The Rockin Ricks

Some lessons learned as a "Working Mom"

2010-05-23T22:09:00.002-06:00

First let me say that I hate the title "working mom". Now that someone actually pays me to get up in the morning and get a job done during the day does not negate the fact that I worked before. It's just that no one paid me to do my work as a stay-at-home mom. It doesn't mean I wasn't working. I just wasn't working for someone else who paid me to do my job.

Before I went "back to the office" I pretty much got to pick and choose what & when I did what I did. My days were actually quite organized into laundry day, shopping/errand day, cleaning house day, volunteer at the school day - well, I'm sure you get the picture. These were days that I planned my kids breakfast, lunch, dinner & snacks down to the tiniest detail. I didn't feel ultra organized, but now I look back on it all, I was a tad over the top. But I loved it.

Then came my 39th birthday. This was the day that I "went back to work". Let me tell you, it was not a good day. I came home every day for the first few weeks and bawled. Yes, bawled. There's just no other way to describe it. Then, something funny started to happen. I started to "own" my job. I started to enjoy it. The bawling settled down to a few crying sessions here and there - but on the whole, I felt empowered. I felt smart. I felt like I could tackle a task and have it DONE, and someone would pay me to do it. At first I felt a little guilty about enjoying my job - but it didn't take long for me to realize that if I have to be working outside the home, I might as well be giving it all I've got.

This transition from stay-at-home to working mom hasn't been easy. I've landed a number of bumps and bruises along the way. It's definitely been a learning process - and here are a few of my first lessons learned:

I'm not the young professional with boundless energy like I used to be. I am not the cute, perky employee of yester year. I'm more like the old reliable. That's a hard one to face.
My kids are pretty darn strong. They've stepped up to the plate. Many of the things I used to keep myself so busy with before, are things my kids can do on their own. This means there is jelly in the peanut butter jar, crumpled clothes in their closets and school projects that are completely kid manufactured. Our lives are messy, but things are getting done.
Messy ain't so bad. I mean, seriously, who really cares? I have yet to have someone come into my house to count the times I've swept or vacuumed the floor.
I will forget treat days at soccer, carpool & cub scouts. I can't beat myself up over it, I just have to do my best, accept the mistakes & move on.
I used to waste a lot of time and money on stuff that honestly DID NOT MATTER.
The things that matter and the things that don't are much more clearly defined. And I simply don't have time for the latter anymore.
My husband rocks. He does laundry, makes meals, runs carpool and volunteers at class parties. He has pulled more than his fair share of the load without a word of complaint.

So, to sum it all up - I'm old, tired, messy and disorganized, but more grounded, focused & content. I guess crazier things have happened.

Dear Dad

2010-04-29T22:44:00.001-06:00

Dear Dad,

I miss you. It’s been nearly 4 months since you left and I still miss you. Desperately. Everyday. I see you everywhere and in everything. It’s heartbreaking and comforting all at the same time.

Do you still see me? Do you hear me crying to God at night? I keep asking Him to tell you that I love you. I hope He has. I need for you to know. I need for you to know that you are a wonderful father and I am so very proud to be your daughter. I need you to know how honored I am to be a little piece of you still living on this earth.

Dad, there is something I need to tell you. You gave me some advice about how I was raising my kids last summer. It made me mad. It made me want to fight back with some harsh words. Instead I just kept it inside. I want you to know that you were right. You were right all along. Please keep sending me your advice. I need it, even when I refuse to realize I need it. I’m stubborn like you, so sometimes it takes a little while to sink in.

I’m trying to be tough, but sometimes I can’t. I’m trying to work hard and be a woman of my word. I’m doing my best to make you proud. I hope you are watching.

I love you dad.

Your daughter,

Kristen

Myron Emil "Andy" Anderson 1942 - 2010

2010-01-09T21:05:00.005-07:00

I gave the life sketch of my father, Andy Anderson, today at his funeral. Here are the words I prepared and delivered:

I am honored to be able to share a little about the life of my father with each of you. It is a priviledge, and honestly, it is one of the remaining gifts I can give him. Please be patient with me, as this will be hard. My heart along with my families, and so many of yours, is broken. A daughter never expects to lose her father so early, so unexpectedly. Especially my dad. He was larger than life to me. I think deep down I still believed he was indestructible. I vividly remember the last time I hugged him just over a month ago. I was struggling and needed my dad & Joyce’s advice. Before he left he gave me a huge hug with that 6 foot four frame. I remember feeling his warmth and his strength. It was as though he passed it on to me, and helped me to know that I could make it through anything. Little did I know how much I would draw upon that last hug of his to make it through this trial we are facing now.

Dad would not have wanted to have me stand here and speak in sorrow. He would want a celebration. And boy, did that man love a good celebration. He would want this to be a celebration of his life. That’s exactly how I am going to structure my thoughts this morning, as a celebration of the life of Andy Anderson.

Dad was born March 21, 1942 in Logan, Utah to Clyde and Wanda Anderson. In fact, his mother passed away just before this past Thanksgiving, and as I watched him take charge in planning Grandma’s funeral, I felt immense pride in being an Anderson, and especially in being his daughter. He is the oldest of five children. His younger brother Ron preceded him in death, but he is survived by his brother Gordon, and his sisters Debbie and Maxine.

Dad spent the majority of his childhood and teenage years right in Salt Lake City. He learned hard and valuable lessons about life, himself, who he was, and who he wanted to be. As an adult he lived all over the Salt Lake Valley, in Bountiful, Park City, Farmington, London, England and his beloved St. George. Wherever he lived, his presence was felt and lives were changed. He didn’t barge into your life with a lot of fanfare. But once he was in your life, you knew it, and you wanted him there. Dad was someone who knew what he wanted, and lived that way.

Dad was a simple man, but at the same time, he was a man who had many layers. He was like a good book that you can’t put down for fear that you might miss something.
I’d like to share some of the many chapters of his life that made up who he was.

He knew how to love

When dad was in Jr. High he fell for a girl at school by the name of Kathy Morris. He didn’t know her real well, but he wanted to. She was actually dating one of his good friends. One day he showed up on her doorstep with his dog Sandy. She didn’t really know who he was or how he knew where she lived, but he kept coming back until she agreed to date him. He was so handsome and funny. They went to movies, had bonfires at Saltair, and took long walks just holding hands. It wasn’t until later that she learned dad had secretly followed her home from school one day to find out where that pretty blond lived. They were married shortly after high school and after many years of waiting were finally blessed with two (and might I add fabulous) children.

They divorced after 16 years of marriage, yet made sure that above all else their children’s needs came first. To this day I can honestly say that neither of them ever disparaged the other in my presence. That alone taught me a lot about my father’s character.

Thankfully, Dad found love again. And this time, it was the love of his life. After some prodding from friends, my dad, and even my mom – Joyce Bingham Willmore finally gave my dad a shot. He actually didn’t give her much of a choice. He called Joyce one night to ask her out, but she was going out to eat and dance with some friends. Well lo and behold - my father took matters into his own hands, and showed up at the restaurant anyway. He crashed their girl’s night out. She remembers him walking in, in his crisp white shirt, looking handsome as ever and asking her to dance. They danced all night, and it wasn’t long before they both knew that something special was happening. I remember hanging out with them at my dad’s little apartment in Bountiful and washing the boat. They splashed, flirted with and teased one another like they were teenagers. I was only twelve, but it still obvious to me that my dad had fallen head over heels in love.

They were married on July 20, 1983 in a gorgeous country wedding. Joyce had two sons, Eric and Terry Willmore, and on that day the six of us became a family. Now blending a family from two separate ones is not an easy task. Nor is it something that can be accomplished in a month, a year, or even a decade. But I thank God for the day my father met his amazing wife. She is his other half. His perfect match. And she brought my father back to me.

He was dedicated to his children

When we were young, Rhett and I remember going to be with our dad over weekends. He’d come pick us up in his big motorhome and take us out to his place. I remember Rhett sitting in the front passenger seat, and I would sit on a small ledge right beside the driver’s seat. I would have to pay attention, because if I didn’t Dad would grab my knee and tickle it every time I got distracted. When we arrived he would feed us what we thought was a gourmet meal of warmed up bean with bacon soup and smashed up white bread for dipping. Once he even forgot to feed me, but I was so darn scared of him that I didn’t dare tell him that I was starving.

As we got older, we spent great time together snow skiing and boating. The boys were the dare devils, I was the fraidy cat, and dad and Joyce kept us all together.

Once he made homemade macaroni and cheese just like grandma Anderson used to make. Rhett and Eric sat at the bar trying desperately to gag down their dinner. Finally dad said in his loud, gruff voice, “What’s the problem, my mom used to make this all the time and it’s delicious.” He then proceeded to take a bite, looked at the boys and pronounced the meal to be disgusting, and threw it all away.

Rhett remembers dad throwing thousands and thousands of baseballs to him while playing catch or for batting practice. He coached his little league teams, and when Rhett was in High School he would look beyond the edge of the field and find dad was there, watching him from his car for every single baseball practice.

I remember driving to Lake Powell, just the two of us, me and my dad, singing along with Neil Diamond and Sheena Easton. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. My dad taught me how to drive a stick shift in the Bountiful High School parking lot. He didn’t freak out when I smashed in the side of his van while I was in college, probably because I was freaking out enough for the both of us, plus it gave him something he could tease me about forever.

I remember him coming with Joyce and Grandma Bingham to pick me up when I was finished with my mission. I remember running into his arms and sobbing because I had missed him so much. We toured the countryside, met people I loved, and he cried every time I spoke.

Dad loved us kids. He wasn’t a gooey, mushy sort of dad – but we knew he was proud of us, that his love was real and would never waiver. When his grandkids came along, the love in his heart expanded exponentially to include them all. Whether it was golfing, swimming, fishing, or his abundant teasing, he loved to spend time with each of them. Grandpa Andy always was and will continue to be one of their greatest heroes.

He was an athlete

Everything about him made him an excellent athlete. His height, his build, his focus and determination. His willingness to work and work and work until he got it right.

Dad played baseball and Basketball in Jr. High and High School. After graduation he got into Fast Pitch Softball, and boy was he was amazing. For his first national fast pitch softball tournament my mom and dad borrowed my grandpa’s brand new car so they could drive all the way to Illinois to play. Rhett and I spent half of our childhood in the playground, dirt and stands surrounding the ball park watching our dad play ball. I remember him playing catcher, he was number 8, and they called him “Stretch”.

In 1986, he and a bunch of his buddies were inducted into the Utah Softball Hall of Fame. Dad was very humble about it all, and honestly didn’t talk about it much, but I know that he was thrilled to be honored for playing a game that he loved with friends that he loved even more.

Then there was golf. Oh how my dad loved golf. He read about golf, talked about golf, and when he wasn’t playing – I’m positive he dreamt about golf. When he was on the golf course he was in his element. He was so ticked that he couldn’t get out for a game the last few months. He wouldn’t have minded his back hurting at all, if only he could only get out and hit a few balls.

Anyone who ever watched my dad swing a driver definitely never forgot it. He could whip men half his age, including my husband and brothers. The funny thing too, was that everyone LOVED to play with him, from young kids to old guys, it didn’t matter. He was so fun to be around and he was GOOD. I mean, how could you not love playing with a man who wore orange golf shoes?

He was educated and well read

He felt that education was a life long process. Dad graduated from Granite High School in 1960, he attended the University of Utah and graduated with a Bachelor of Science in 1965, and received his Masters of Physical Therapy from Stanford University in 1966. The world was his oyster, and he wanted to learn all that he could from it.

Dad was always reading something. It didn’t matter the topic or genre, if it was a good book, then he was hooked. Reading was something he and I had in common. I loved to hunt and find the perfect books for him to read. I loved discussing the stories, ideas and philosophies we were reading about. He was incredibly intelligent and open minded.

One of his favorite things was learning to play the piano. How he loved that beautiful black baby grand that had been a gift from his sweet wife. He would practice for hours. He told me that his goal was to be able to sit down with any piece of music, and play it on the spot. He even took lessons while they were living in London. Once we had him over for dinner when he was retired and Joyce was out of town on business. He quickly started getting restless and finally gathered up his stuff and announced that he needed to get home. I asked why he was leaving so early, as it was only 6 pm. “I need to practice the piano” he said, “I’ve got two hours of practice I need to get in tonight”. Classic Andy.

He was a hard worker

I think he was born with the ability and aptitude for hard work built right into his genetic make-up. He simply didn’t know any other way to do things other than by working hard at them. He started a paper route at a young age, waking up before dawn in order to get all of his papers delivered. Making sure to get all of the money collected from his customers was his least favorite part. But he knew if they didn’t pay, he didn’t get paid, so he just did it. That was the story Rhett and I heard if we ever complained about something being hard. We learned not to complain pretty quickly.

He seemed to be able to do anything or be anything. He worked as a barber along side his dad while he attended the University of Utah. He started and developed two successful businesses; Active Marketing and Thread and Ink Design. He could fix pretty much anything that needed to be fixed. He was a man who knew the value of hard work, and he made sure that he passed that on to his children.

Rhett remembers asking dad for 20 bucks to go to the movies with his friends. Dad said “sure” and then had Rhett wash and wax the van in order to earn it. With dad, nothing came free, and if you wanted something, you had to work for it.

Dad was incredibly proud of the fact that he did not pay for his children’s college education. Now that wasn’t nearly as exciting of a prospect for us kids as we lived on ramen noodles, and worked numerous jobs to pay for school and the bills. But I’ll tell you what; there is an enormous amount of satisfaction that came from getting our degrees from our own blood, sweat and tears. He understood that when we couldn’t. We were pushed, and learned we could achieve anything by working hard and following our dreams.

He was a man who loved adventure

We spent a lot of time at Lake Powell over the years. Dad would always be a bundle of stress until we had that boat in the water. Then, magically, a different side of him would appear. We would travel the entire lake, looking for new canyons to explore and different hikes to take. Dad always, always drove the boat. He was the captain of our family in more ways than one.

Dad and Joyce traveled the world together. With family and dear friends, they crossed the globe seeking out new experiences and cultures. Dad climbed the Great Wall of China, stood in awe St. Peter’s Basilica, and wore his famous red shoes all over England and half of Western Europe. He not only read about life, he lived it, and he lived it with passion.

He was a man of impeccable character

He was full of integrity, loyalty and honesty. He said what he meant and meant what he said. And by golly, you’d better do the same. He was someone you could trust, someone who kept his word.

We learned that you should never ask dad his opinion if you didn’t want the truth. Because that’s what you’d always get from him. I don’t think the man knew how to lie. I remember going to him with problems that I thought were down right discouraging, and having him say so matter of fact, “Kristen, you can do that” o r “Kristen, everyone doesn’t approach this the same way you do, and you can’t expect them to”.

He was humble. When his business was honored for being among the 100 fastest growing small businesses in Utah for several years in a row, he was embarrassed. He felt awkward for receiving an award just for living his life the best way he knew how.

He was loyal to a fault. Once dad was your friend, he was your friend forever. And if anyone ever hurt you – then watch out – he was there to defend you and he did not forget easily. He had the sincere talent of making and keeping life long friends.

I will always remember and admire his loyalty towards Joyce. He was immensely proud of her and all that she had accomplished in life. Talking about her would always light up his face. He was a strong man who revered women, especially the woman he loved.

Our amazing husband, father, grandfather and friend, Myron Emil “Andy” Anderson, unexpectedly left this earthly life the afternoon of Sunday, January 3, 2010. He was truly a giant among men.

Dad, I miss you and I love you. The thought that I will not hear your voice, your laugh, or feel your touch again in this life breaks my heart in two. But I know, that your spirit lives on, and it will live forever. I know there is a God in Heaven, that He loves us, and because of Him I will see you again someday. Until then my sweet father, enjoy your new adventure, learn all that you can, I can only imagine the books you must be reading. Play golf everyday on those immaculate courses on high. We will all do every within our power to honor your memory, to live our lives with honesty, integrity and passion. To always seek out new and great adventures. Your memory and life will never be forgotten. Until we meet again dad.

Aha Moment

2009-11-08T19:44:00.003-07:00

I have been applying for jobs lately. Yea, not a very fun thing to do when you've been out of the professional workforce for 10 plus years. Putting together my resume would have been hilarious had it not been so sad. I mean, how do you explain the talents you have and the experience you've gained due to being to being a stay at home mom? If I were honest, it could have looked something like this:

Stay at home mom 1999 - Present

Vast experience in laundry, dishes, menu planning and conflict resolution. Knows how to clean up messes - especially ones that are not her own.
Incredible ability to multi-task, manage projects, and stay within budgets.
Self motivated and not afraid to get her hands dirty.
Knows how to work her ass off with a smile on her face.

I've quickly learned that the corporate world does not place ANY value on these skills that I have learned as a stay at home mom. Even the substantial volunteer experience I have gained - especially over the last five years - only looks impressive until they realize that NO ONE PAID ME TO DO IT. I mean, how could it really be that important if someone actually got me to do it for free. Silly me.

So, I came home from one of these interviews absolutely exhausted a few weeks ago. If it weren't for this stupid recession, I wouldn't even be interviewing in the first place. I'd still be doing all of my hard work for free. My husband had generously gotten the kids a snack and started on their homework. I felt out of it the entire night because I wasn't at home for the entire routine. After tucking them all into bed, I ignored the laundry and dirty dishes and went into my room to think. Yes all of you out there in corporate world, I actually DO THINK. As I sat on my bed thinking about how in the world I could possibly do it all if I could finally convince someone to give me a job for more than $10 per hour - I had an amazing experience. It was like a door in my mind was opened allowing me to see and understand something I hadn't yet grasped, even though I thought I had. These are the words that came into my mind:

THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING YOU WILL EVER DO.

I pictured my children from infancy to adulthood and finally understood -

THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING I WILL EVER DO.

Suddenly I knew, that if at all possible, I needed to continue to stay at home with these kids. These beautiful, frustrating, gifts from God. They need me. They need a mom who will listen. Who will be her when they get home from school. Who will be an advocate for them throughout their education. They need their mom. And if I have to sell all of my worldly possessions in order to be there for them, then so be it. They need me. And even though this is not the way I envisioned myself making my mark on the world - this is it. Raising these three children is absolutely and unequivocally THE MOST IMPORTANT THING I WILL EVER DO. EVER.

Sometimes there just aren't enough rocks.

2009-10-03T14:50:00.003-06:00

It’s been coming on for a long time now. An emotional breakdown that is. Due to various events and circumstances – this year has been a hard one for my little family. Just one of those “Refiners Fire” experiences we all go through, that hurt like hell while you are in the midst of them, but at the end you can look back and even be grateful for. I’m looking forward to the gratitude stage, as I’m not quite there yet.

The straw that broke the camel’s back came a little over a week ago. I forgot to do something for my friend that she was counting on me to do. I was supposed to take her kids to an activity they had been looking forward to, and wouldn’t you know it, I forgot. Normally I would kick myself for not keeping it together, apologize profusely, and do something to try and make up for it. But not this time. This time I completely lost it. I started sobbing uncontrollably while we were talking on the phone (my poor friend – thank goodness she still likes me) and when we hung up I went into my closet and bawled. I mean bawled like a baby. Do you ever have those moments when you think, “S@#t! I just can’t do this anymore!”? This was one of those moments. I was at the end my rope & just plain tired of hanging on.

My sweet husband finally found me, listened to my numerous bottled up reasons for losing it, and then he did an amazing thing. He sat right in front of me and looked directly into my eyes and said with complete conviction, “Kristen, I think you have done some of your best mothering this year. We have had a lot going on. You have been our rock, the glue that holds us all together.” From the look in his eyes I knew he meant it. And then to emphasize the fact that emotionally losing it every now and then is an okay thing, he used one of our favorite Forrest Gump lines, “Sometimes there just aren’t enough rocks.”

So Mike just took over. He planned a weekend “mommy time-out” for me. His mom met us half way from Teton Valley and then took me up to stay with her for four days. Four days to do anything I wanted. The first day I took a five hour nap. Seriously. Five hours. And yes, I was able to sleep that same night without a problem. I read Dan Brown’s new book The Lost Symbol , and finished reading the Book of Mormon. I took multiple naps each day. It took me until the last day to have the energy to venture out on a short hike. My mother-in-law made me her delicious homemade sweet rolls and even bought me a fresh lime freeze. I’ve now returned home refreshed and renewed. Sometimes when there aren’t enough rocks to keep on throwing, it helps to back up and take a look at why you’re throwing them in the first place. It feels good to know I don’t need to throw anymore of them, at least for a little while.

This birthday girl knows how to party!

2009-09-13T21:16:00.009-06:00

Kassidy's birthday was exactly one month ago. Here she is with her brother and sister a few years ago. Kass is the peacemaker in our family. She is thoughtful, kind, and the ultimate "big sister". Watching her grow is awe inspiring and overwhelming.

This year for her birthday she wanted to plan her entire party. She came up with the theme, the menu, all of the ideas and basically told me exactly what she needed me to do. She wanted to have a "Mystery" party where all of her guests showed up in "gowns" and had to solve a mystery that occurred during the party.
Each invitation gave every guest a character name for the party. Caleb was her butler and checked off each guest as she arrived. The girls showed up dressed to play their part. It was so much fun to watch them come in dresses, with their hair all done and jewelry on.

The first activity was decorating masks that the girls could wear throughout the night. Yes - she even convinced her little brother to wear his suit to the party in order to look more like a butler.

The dinner was served in the dining room. Kassidy wanted everything to look "fancy" as they dined on pizza, watermelon, jello and strawberry lemonade.

Kassidy with her maid & butler :)

After dinner, a charity auction was held in our living room. This was pretty much the only part she allowed me to plan. Here are all of the guests waiting for the auction to begin.

Kassidy held up the first item up for auction. It was an "expensive" necklace inside a satin jewelry box. She fainted (which was hilarious btw) when she opened the box and realized the necklace had been stolen.

Thankfully the cook (aka - the mom) recognized that this must be the work of the "sticky fingers bandit" after seeing the signature sticky fingerprint inside the box. A sticky finger print was often left by this thief after he or she had stolen something. Thankfully I happened to have "mystery kits" right there to allow everyone to keep track of clues.

The first place the guest wanted to check for clues was in the kitchen. I mean, that's probably the best place to get sticky treats if you want them. I had a picture here showing the kids finding the next clue but somehow deleted it and I'm too tired to download it again. As they entered the kitchen they found the tv remote for the tv downstairs with another sticky fingerprint right on it. After writing down the clue, we all ran downstairs. I love Kassidy's face here. Her shock looks so lady-like as they find the next clue. Downstairs on the couch in front of the tv they found a bunch of mail with sticky fingerprints all over the envelopes. There was even a half eaten doughnut on top of the mail

The kids all ran to the mail box only to find Kassidy's grandma's car keys. The keys had sticky doughnut fingerprints all over them. Here are the kids literally sprinting to the garage to look for the next clue.

After searching through grandma's car, Kassidy found an entire doughnut along with her grandma Kathy's "To Do List" that had been left on the driver seat. The things her grandma had to do were: 1. Buy doughnuts, 2. Steal necklace, and 3. Watch "The Price is Right". This is Kassidy realizing that her grandma must be the sticky finger bandit. Oh, the horror!

Next, everyone rushed down to grandma Kathy's room. As they entered they found a very guilty looking grandma wearing the auction necklace, eating a doughnut and watching "The Price is Right". It was so much fun - even for the cook!

Here are "The Grandmas" enjoying the party.

Happy Birthday my sweet girl! I'm grateful for every moment that I get to spend being your mother! Even after 11 years, you continue to amaze me every day.

Too vivid of an imagination

2009-09-06T22:05:00.002-06:00

I went to IHOP with the kids and Grandma Kathy yesterday morning. There was a lady walking from table to table making balloon shapes for all the kids - working for tips. As we ate our breakfast Kaitlyn & Caleb asked nearly NON-STOP, "Can I have a balloon Mom?". "How come she isn't here yet Mom?" and "What kind of balloons do you think she makes Mom?". I was about ready to scream at the balloon lady, "WILL YOU JUST GET OVER HERE ALREADY SO I CAN EAT MY BREAKFAST IN PEACE!?!?". Instead I said calmly to my children, "You are going to have to be patient, there are a lot of kids who want balloons, okay".

Just a side note - One of the most difficult parts of motherhood for me is calmly saying one thing while my mind is SCREAMING something else. Still haven't quite mastered it. But being kicked out of IHOP for yelling at the sweet balloon lady was a good deterent.

Fortunately, the balloon lady finally made it to our table before the kids and I had a major melt down and happily pumped out a black weiner dog (for Caleb), a red kitty cat (for Kaitlyn), and a pink humming bird (for Grandma Kathy). Kassidy quietly insisted that she simply did not want a balloon animal, even after several attempts by miss balloon lady to convince her.

After the balloon lady left, I thought to myself, "Darn it. My baby is too old for balloon animals". The sadness stuck in my heart until we reached the car. As soon as Kass sat in the passenger seat beside me she looked at me and said, "Do you know why I didn't want a balloon Mom?". I tried to act all casual as I replied, "No sweetheart, why didn't you want a balloon animal?" while inside I was thinking she was going to say they are for babies, or that they are so lame, or heaven forbid that she just flat out admit that she is too grown up now for something as frivolous as balloon animals. Once again I was able to control my inner voice and just wait for her to answer. And do you know what she said? She said, "I really like balloon animals. But as soon as I saw the lady making them I made up my mind that I wasn't going to get one. I didn't want one because I love them so much and I pretend like they are my real pet and then when they pop it's like my pet has died and it makes me really sad."

I was dumb founded. What do you say to that? I've always encouraged my kids to develop their imaginations and obviously they've done a fantastic job. But a balloon animal as a pet? Had I pushed them overboard? Had I turned my child into the BACKYARDIGANS on steroids? After pondering her comment for a few moments I finally said, "Yeah, that must be really sad honey" and then screamed inside, "HOORAY! She's still my little girl!!" The imagination is here to stay, hopefully for a LONG while, and I'm certainly not going to worry about it.

Our Summer - the "Reader's Digest" version

2009-08-30T18:13:00.009-06:00

Building an AWESOME sandcastle

Two girls laying out by their Aunt Kami. This was too cute!!

Kassidy & friends celebrate the first day of summer

I've been without a computer for about 3 weeks. The summer weeks before that I was "reunion obsessed". Add those two together with a dash of overwhelming emotion and I get an entire summer with one post on my blog. So here is the "Reader's Digest" version. Not as good as the real thing, but hopefully enough to get the story told, and hopefully enough to get me back into the blogging saddle again.

Summer Story #1 - "My Daughter the Party Planner"

Kassidy has always planned parties. When she was about 2 and a half she invited nearly the entire neighborhood to her "Gooey Party". I'm not kidding. Eventually she had invited so many children that I actually had to come up with something. I had numerous kids on the street asking me, "Miss Kristen, when is Kassidy going to have her goey party?" The only problem was WHAT IN THE HECK IS A GOOEY PARTY???? But that's a story for another time. Luckily, Kassidy is now at the age where she can plan the details of the party, invite the guests, and then tell me what I need to do. The last of school this year was Kassidy's first sleepover party with a few of her closest friends from school. They played night games, made homemade pizza, gave themselves facials, and stayed up late at night talking & giggling. Needless to say, Mike and I didn't sleep much.

Summer Story #2 - "Booty Freeze at Bear Lake"

My mom has a fantastic cabin at Bear Lake that she owns with the rest of her siblings. We go there every summer for a week and have a great time. This year it was FREEZING! Let me repeat that - IT WAS FREEZING!! Bear Lake is a mountain lake. It never gets incredibly warm to begin with. With an unusually cold Spring here in Utah- the lake felt like glacier run off. It rained nearly every day and only one of those days got above 70 degrees. It was still a blast. First of, Mike's mom came with us as well this year. She & my mom are a hoot when they are together. More than once Mike would say, "Now Grandmas, if I get any more lip from you I'm gonna pull this van over and make you both walk". This of course just made us all giggle more. We played games, watched movies, did crafts, and even went to the beach to jet ski nearly every day. Call us crazy - but sometimes crazy can be a lot of fun.

Summer Story #3 - Yellowstone

Our family vacations this year were products of the recession - and much closer to home. We spent a very long day in Yellowstone National Park and had a fantastic time. From Old Faithful to mud pots, we saw all we possibly could within the hours of daylight. On one hike the kids were whining about the difficult climb and all I could think of was "I obviously do not subject my children to hard physical labor nearly enough!" We read Harry Potter together during the drive and played a license plate game where we found 40 of the 50 United States represented. It helped all of us appreciate the beauty found within this country just a little more.

I think I'll just stop with three - otherwise I will never publish this post. I hope you all had a wonderful summer and are ready to jump right in to Fall.

BHS Class of 1989 Reunion

2009-07-22T15:30:00.006-06:00

BHS Class of 1989 Classmate Social (Thursday night)

I suddenly feel as though I can blog again. My 20th High School reunion - the one I've been completely obsessed about for months - is over. My mind is no longer completely occupied with menu options & ticket sales. I can finally focus on everyday mommy concerns once again. Today I even ran three errands and was able to immediately recall the location of my car keys, cell phone, and purse prior to each outing. I even did the laundry, fed my children 3 meals & baked brownies. I feel almost normal again! However, before I move on with my life AFTER the reunion, I ought to share photos and a few thoughts about what I loved about the big bash.

Kass helped with nametags & taking money at the Classmate Social. She's wearing my Senior Class Officer sweater. I realize she is my daughter & I'm just a tad prejudiced, but I think she is gorgeous. Mike's already making battle plans for scaring the boys away. I'm just gearing up for the emotions, drama & tears.

Therese, Amy & Me at the main event Friday Night

My 20th High School Reunion was held up at the Red Pine Lodge at the Canyons Ski Resort in Park City. I have to admit, the location all by itself was just plain cool. We all took a gondola ride up the gorgeous mountainside to the Lodge. The night started with appetizers and mingling outside, followed with a yummy meal and a program inside the lodge, with a finale of catching up under the stars, dancing, and being silly inside the photo booth that took hilarious pictures. I wanted it to be an amazing night, and I have to admit that it was. Here are a few of my favorite things.

LOCATION, location, location!!! The top of a ski hill in Park City is absolutely stunning.
LAUGHING, laughing, & more laughing!!! I laughed with the great friends I've made while planning the reunion, laughed some more with friends I haven't seen in years, and even more with the ones who have stood beside me the entire 20 years. AND I laughed hysterically at the program as Jared & Brian made fun of big hair, mullets & photo shopped images of classmates.
MIKE! Yes, my husband. He came early, set up decorations, movies, nametags, and nearly everything else. He put up with his crazy wife all summer and socialized with all my old high school friends. He danced with me, and found new friends while I made sure the evening was running smoothly. On the gondola ride down at the end of the night he rubbed my feet because they hurt so much. He proved to me once again how incredible he is, and why I love him so damn much! He even met old boyfriends & told me what nice guys they were.
The AFTER PARTY! Staying up until 5:30 am with friends was the most memorable way to end the night.
Dancing to 80's music! Need I say more?
Sharing a suite at the hotel with some fabulous friends!

I think this one is funny. I'm standing next to Shane & his wife Tracy. He was the guy I thought I was going to marry, before I served my mission. As things turned out, he met Tracy & married her while I was gone. Of course, I'm eternally grateful now, seeing as I met and married Mike - who (as anyone who knows us would know) is my perfect match. I actually got to know Tracy a little bit at our reunion - and she is quite an amazing lady.

Angela, Amy & Me - the morning (actually afternoon) after. We had breakfast/lunch at a Mexican restaurant in Park City. My stomache wasn't very happy with me!

Mike & I spent an extra day & night in Park City so we could relax a little. Here we are riding the ski lift to ride the Alpine Slide. We also saw a concert in the park with a bunch of hippies. It was the perfect ending to a perfect weekend. And now I can move on with my life with a little less stress and a lot more memories.

I am officially getting old

2009-06-11T18:48:00.002-06:00

There are many signs that I'm getting old. Like the gray hair (that I've actually had since I was 25 due to STRESS) or the plethora of wrinkles and age spots on my face. And let's not forget my complete lack of mental sharpness. These days my I'm quite happy when I can remember the names and birthdays of my children - and consider being "sharp as a butter knife" a good thing. Those days of being "sharp as a tack" are long, long gone.

One of the signs of my ever aging mind and body is the fact that I am currently planning my 20th high school reunion. It has consumed me for a while now. The selling of tickets, planning of events and finding the right entertainment have caused me a few sleepless nights. No one tells you when you are 17 years old and running for Senior Class Office (because you WANT to plan your High School reunions) how incredibly busy you will be in your future life, and the obstacles & yes even stomach ulcers that may come along with it.

At the same time however, they don't tell you how amazingly fun it will be either. Working with people you haven't seen in 20 years, and even some who you never even knew when you were in high school. After nearly every time we meet together, I find myself contemplating how just down right cool these people are. All the "high school" crap has been peeled away throughout these last 20 years, leaving the hearts and minds of some pretty strong people completely exposed. I've grown to love some of them for the first time, and the rest of them I've grown to love all over again.

It's teaching me that I really don't mind getting old. Okay, so I really don't appreciate how difficult it can be to get back up again after I've been sitting on the ground for a while, but other than that sort of stuff - getting older has been much more fun than I ever thought it would be. I've been wondering why God doesn't let our bodies, hearts & minds be at their absolute prime at exactly the same time. I guess it could be dangerous. I'm beginning to understand what they mean when they say "beauty is wasted on the young". But then again, with age I'm gaining an internal peace & confidence that physical appearance simply cannot create. Why does it take 38 years to figure that one out?

May Mahem

2009-05-31T17:08:00.006-06:00

Visiting Grandpa Ricks' grave at with the Tetons in the background
Batter up! Caleb waiting for his chance to bat.

Kaitlyn just being cute.

Kassidy and her friend Alexa at their school "state fair". Her bottle person is Eartha Kitt.

Grandma Kathy's condo after demolition!

Jardine's!!! They have a drive-up window so I don't even have to get out the car to get a diet coke. They also have the BEST ice and the sweetest ladies who own the place. I often begin and end my days (especially in May) at Jardine's.

March Madness has been something of a special holiday in our home for our entire marriage. I have learned to embrace it, understand it, and yes, even love it. But with the addition of kids, and especially now that all of them are in school, I'm now understanding that there is another "M" month every year that truly deserves a chaotic title as well. I'm referring to the completely crazy month of May.

It's a month that I have a love-hate relationship with. It contains many activities, holidays and celebrations that I adore - all smushed in with panic attacks, tears & exhaustion from the enormous amount of activity packed into a short 31 days. I'm considering calling it "May Mahem" but I'm looking for any suggestions as to what it should be titled. Let me know what you think.

Here is a quick look at the month of May for the Ricks family this year:

Kaitlyn's birthday!!! Seeing as it occurred at the beginning of the month, I actually wrote about it since I was still able to form complete sentences without tearing up or falling into a deep sleep at the time.
Mike & I celebrated 15 years of marriage! Celebrating was strictly limited to mushy cards and kisses - due to the crazy day & a cute sister who ran out of gas on the freeway that night.

Mother's Day! I let everyone wait on me for an entire day - and it was sublime! I have to admit, it is one of my favorite days of the year since I pretty much get to do whatever I want (within reason of course).
School Projects. Yes - with the end of the school year closing in, many of those all important projects are coming due. We made posters, miniature floats (like the parade type of float) and a bottle person (seriously, you can't make this stuff up). The kids were writing biographies and book reports. Studying for CRT's (whatever the heck that means!) and other end of year tests. They memorized poems, states & their capitals, and of course those never ending "math facts". This was all on top of their regular school work & homework - which seemed to be assigned in abundance as well.
School Programs. Gotta love 'em! The fairs, field trips, "culminating activities", school olympics, and end of year programs. It's hard for me to keep them all straight & to make sure that I'm seen by my children at each and every one of them. They will continue right up until the last day of school.

SPORTS! It's that time of year. Baseball and soccer dominate three to four evenings a week this month. Thank goodness we've got nothing else on our plates! Actually, we didn't use "plates" very much this month - dinner usually consisted of food stuffed into paper bags or $5 pizza from Little Caesars.
DRAMA! Kassidy has been taking drama classes this entire school year, and they ended it with putting on a musical production - High School Musical. NOTE TO READERS: I didn't "do" drama growing up. I didn't "do" singing either. Holy CRAP a lot of work goes into that stuff! I had absolutely no idea. It consumed weeknights and every Saturday since March. The third week of May Kassidy rehearsed every evening for 4 or 5 hours. Then she had three performances. It was a SERIOUS production, with major work required by all the of the participants. Once again, I HAD NO IDEA!!! Also, I have never been away from her that much for so long - and I missed her desperately. Needless to say, I cried & grinned uncontrollably each time I watched her perform.
Memorial Day! We drove to Idaho on Sunday (the morning after Kassidy's last performance), stopping at the graves of our loved ones along the way. It was a bitter-sweet experience. The absence of Mike's dad was incredibly painful for all of us, but the closeness we had all gained during his illness & death was evident in all we did the entire weekend. He has left an amazing legacy!
Watching Kami (my sister) perform! This was last night, and lasted 3 hours. She sang back-up for other performers and then performed a solo. Once again, I cried. She is a very talented singer. It's a talent she OBVIOUSLY gets from her father (sorry mom, but it's true). I kept thinking that he must be up in heaven watching her, and feeling incredibly proud. It made me wish I could hear the two of them sing together with him playing his guitar.
And last but certainly not least, is something that has been ever present the entire month. Remodeling my mom's new condo. Mike has been in charge, and has done a fantastic job. From demo, hiring contractors, to picking out and purchasing all the supplies - he has been on top of things. I did help out a little, and learned a few new things in the process like: using big tools to tear stuff up is great for anger management, and that old men with nothing else going on in their lives besides being President of the condo HOA will make you mop the garage (and no amount of reasoning will make them change their minds).

That brings me to today - the last day of May. We are going to let it go out with bang by watching a movie & snuggling on the couch, while munching on Mike's homemade carmel popcorn. It'll be the perfect ending to a perfectly crazy May!

Happy Birthday Sweet & Sassy Kaitlyn!

2009-05-07T19:20:00.005-06:00

We call Kaitlyn "Sparkle" because her eyes light up everytime she smiles!

Kaitlyn has always been very shy. A sure sign that she is feeling shy is when she sticks her fingers in her mouth.

Kaitlyn making wishes at her Grandma Ricks' house.

Kaitlyn wanted to take her friends ice skating for her 6th birthday. Eight 6 year olds ice skating is very stressful on mom, but the kids had a ball!

Last Saturday was Kaitlyn’s 6th birthday. If I were on top of things, I’d have posted this on her actual birthday. Instead, I’m writing it on my Anniversary. Maybe I’ll write about my Anniversary on Mother’s Day J.

Kaitlyn is my dichotomy. She is incredibly shy in groups or in front of people she doesn’t know very well, but in our home she is the clown, the ham, THE entertainer. Kaitlyn is smart as a whip with rock solid determination. When she decides to do something, she does it. End of story.

This is my child who cherishes flash cards, homework, and practice. No lie. At school she is the first one with her hand up to answer a question, then impossible to understand because she sticks her fingers in her mouth.

Before Kaitlyn was born, Mike and I literally laid out a plan for how to deal with my post-partum depression. The plan mainly consisted of my getting on medication (prozac), and hiring a nanny for the summer (Robyn – who was awesome btw!). The result was something I had never experienced previously – thoroughly enjoying a new born baby. Please don’t get me wrong, I love all my kids. I loved them all as babies. But my experience with Kaitlyn was completely different, as my emotions were in check and I was actually well rested.

I remember staying up with Kaitlyn all night long when she was fussy. I would hold her with her head on my shoulder with her legs all scrunched up – like only newborn babies can do – and savoring every moment. I loved the way she smelled, the feel of her fuzzy hair on my cheeks, and the sound of her breathing. Then Robyn would walk in at 8am and I would hand her Kaitlyn and go upstairs to take a nap. Like I said, a completely new experience.

I love you Kaitlyn! I love your soft squeaky voice, your curly hair, and even the way you yell at anyone or anything that gets in your way. I love to watch you practice cartwheels, soccer, reading, math and swimming. I love snuggling with you in the morning, and tickling you for hours. You are tough, tender and absolutely amazing! Happy Birthday!

One Fine Day

2009-04-21T19:19:00.004-06:00

My "Square Foot Garden" is full of dirt and ready for planting. This is one of three planting boxes scattered around my yard.

Kaitlyn swinging high!

Caleb & Daddy fighting with his Transformers. I should probably specify here that they are Caleb's Transformers - he just "shares" them with his dad :)

This will be the year that I start a new kind of garden. A "Square Foot Garden" that is. After being convinced by Chelsea and Maureen that this is THE way to garden, and after yet another dismal attempt at gardening last year, I've been all over the square foot garden thing. I spent the winter reading and obsessing over the book about the square foot gardening method. Then a few weeks ago Mike built my very own square foot gardening boxes. Today I finally mixed the very specific compost/vermiculite/peat moss mixture and shoveled it into the boxes. Mike helped me with the messy job - and now we have 3 garden boxes ready for planting. I am so excited, and honestly a little worried. I mean, what if my vegetable still don't grow after moving to this supposedly "fail proof" system? I guess it will officially mean that I was not meant to garden in this life. But at least I gave it a good try.

Working outside, watching my kids play in the sunshine & hang out with their dad, has turned today into one fine day. To finish things off, my mom (who lives with us until her condo is ready) made a delicious spagetti dinner with salad & garlic bread for all of us to enjoy. Our family tradition during dinner is for each person to share two things that were their favorite parts of the day. The kids favorites included playing with friends, watching basketball with dad, and jumping on the trampoline. When it came to be my turn I said, "My favorite part of today is right now eating dinner with my family, and doing dirt with dad." As soon as I said "doing dirt with dad" I started to blush & my mom started to laugh. Mike then said, "No Kristen, that's for later tonight".

Needless to say, we had a great evening, and it promises to only get better. So please excuse me now, I've got some dirt to go and take care of. :)

Spring Break, Caleb's Baptism, & Easter

2009-04-17T21:38:00.006-06:00

Let me just start by saying that I've done something funky to my camera, so all of my pictures from Spring Break, Easter & Caleb's Baptism are messed up. But, it's the best I've got, so here they are. In a seven day period our little family drove to and from Las Vegas to spend a few days in the sun, then we made it home in time for Caleb's baptism and finally for Easter. It was a crazy, fun-filled week that left all of us smiling and exhausted. I meant to post the photos in chronological order, but ended up getting them backwards. I seem to do most things that way anyway, so I guess it's only appropriate.

I hope you can actually see Kaitlyn's face in this photo. She waited for a long time for this egg hunt on Easter Sunday. I was sorely tempted to ask the Easter Bunny to please NOT hide Easter eggs at our house this year. That was until Kaitlyn confided in me that the egg hunt is her favorite part of Easter, and she had been looking forward to it all year. Her face says it all. The bunny hid the eggs, and she thoroughly enjoyed finding them. Caleb & Kass enjoyed it as well, but Kaitlyn was absolutely thrilled to be chasing down those bright plastic eggs.

This is Mike and Caleb before Caleb was baptized. Caleb was so excited about his baptism that he couldn't stop grinning & jumping around. Caleb was baptized on the same day as one of his close friends. As they were walking to the baptism font with their dads, they jumped up in the air and gave each other a high five. I wish I had a picture of that one.

Caleb with his sisters right before his baptism. This is one of the only photos I have of them in their Easter dresses.

Caleb looking so darn cute!

Caleb & his daddy taking a gondola ride in Las Vegas.

Kaitlyn and Kassidy enjoying their gondola ride. You can tell that Kaitlyn in feeling shy because her fingers are stuck in her mouth.

Caleb chilling out in his daddy's office

The handsome birthday boy.

My little wild angel taking a much needed nap. It was one crazy & fun week.

Why Mormon's Build Temples

2009-04-14T13:03:00.006-06:00

I've got a lot to blog about - with Easter, Spring Break, and Caleb's baptism all happening within a one week period. But, I'll have to save that for another day. Sometimes when I get an idea in my head for a post, I can't focus on anything else until I write about it.

My thoughts started a few weeks ago when I was made aware that the HBO "Big Love" would be airring an episode with a scene from a Mormon Temple. I didn't watch the episode, but apparently it was supposed to feature detailled depictions of our temple clothing, ordinance rooms, and temple ceremonies. Needless to say, I was TICKED at the idea of a movie/television studio using something incredibly sacred to me and millions of others in a way to sensationalize their programming, and hopefully lure in new viewers. I almost hate to admit it, but I was surprised as well. Call me naive, but I honestly was stunned to see my beliefs ridiculed and belittled in such a way.

My first innate response was to lash out. Like I said, I was TICKED! I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs at anyone and everyone involved in writing, producing, or marketing the episode. I wanted to throw a fit and let the world know how absolutely disgusting this was to me. I decided instead to allow myself a "cooling down" period before doing anything crazy like storming HBO Headquarters like a mad woman.

That brings me to today. I've been cleaning my house, trying to recover from the holiday, spring break, baptism week, and I was listening to General Conference at the same time. (Thank goodness for DVR that allows me to do this! Wow - what an amazing invention). For my non-Mormon friends, General Conference is a series of meetings held twice a year where the leadership of the Mormon church speaks to the church members. I wasn't home this year to listen to it, so I used the trusty DVR to record all sessions, so I could listen to and enjoy them later. Today happened to be one of those days. The talk from Elder David Bednar stopped me in my tracks. His entire talk was about temples and why they are so important to us. He said,

"We live in a great day of temple building around the world. And the adversary surely is mindful of the increasing number of temples that now dot the earth. As always, the building and dedicating of these sacred structures are accompanied by opposition from enemies of the Church as well as by ill-advised criticism from some within the Church.
Such antagonism is not new. In 1861, while the Salt Lake Temple was under construction, Brigham Young encouraged the Saints: “If you wish this Temple built, go to work and do all you can. . . . Some say, ‘I do not like to do it, for we never began to build a Temple without the bells of hell beginning to ring.’ I want to hear them ring again. All the tribes of hell will be on the move, . . . but what do you think it will amount to? You have all the time seen what it has amounted to” (Deseret News, Apr. 10, 1861, 41).
We as faithful Saints have been strengthened by adversity and are the recipients of the Lord’s tender mercies. We have moved forward under the promise of the Lord: “I will not suffer that [mine enemies] shall destroy my work; yea, I will show unto them that my wisdom is greater than the cunning of the devil” (D&C 10:43).
We should not be surprised by Satan’s efforts to thwart or discredit temple worship and work. The devil despises the purity in and the power of the Lord’s house. And the protection available to each of us in and through temple ordinances and covenants stands as a great obstacle to the evil designs of Lucifer."

Well there was my answer. I shouldn't be surprised that temple of God is and will continue to be under attack from the adversary. Storming HBO headquarters obviously wasn't an appropriate action either. I don't need to act like a mad woman in defense of what I truly love and believe to be a precious gift from God. I just need to live the way I have promised to live in that very same temple I profess to love. AND - while living what I believe to the best of my ability, I need to be respectful towards all those who have differing beliefs concerning the nature of God and His purpose for them here on earth. I must show them the respect that I hope to receive in return.

For those of you who are interested in watching the video the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has released about "Why Mormons Build Temples" I've include link below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-x_-TQivCx8 -30,00.html

Random thoughts that have filled my brain this week

2009-03-26T09:11:00.003-06:00

I've been missing being able to just sit down and write. I started re-reading my favorite book a few weeks ago, so I've spent any precious spare moments reading instead of writing. This morning I decided to let the dishes stay dirty, the laundry remain unfolded, and my cute 5 year old run wild (and naked I might add). I'm going to write about some of the random things that have been filling my brain & life this week.

Should I allow my ten year old daughter to watch Twilight? I haven't allowed her to read the books, even though it seems like every other girl her age has. Call me crazy, but I believe she'll have plenty of sexual tension to deal with during her teenage years, so I'd prefer NOT to give her a head start on that one. I actually did allow her to watch the movie this week - with me acting as a censor for the things I didn't want her to see. I think it was a good compromise. Although, as the credits rolled at the end of the movie she looked at me with a curious look on her face and said, "That's it?" Almost like she was saying, "Why is everyone making such a big deal about THAT?".
Caleb's questions about vampires and Twilight. Why is Edward's skin white? Does he have fangs? Why doesn't he drink Bella's blood? Are his fangs permanent, or do they just appear when he needs them? Does Edward turn into a bat? SERIOUSLY! I finally had to say NO MORE QUESTIONS ABOUT VAMPIRES! I was losing my mind.
WHY is my five year old SO DARN GRUMPY?!?! She and I have mornings alone together before she heads off to Kindergarten. Usually, this is some pretty great time we get to spend together reading, snuggling, playing & talking. But this week, she is grumpy like nobody's business - And I was quickly on my way to the funny farm. Thankfully, she woke up this morning bright & cheery. Phew! Just in the nick of time.
Will my children ever learn to flush the toilets after they use them? I am flat out TIRED of being surprised by floaties and stinky smells that seem to never go away.
After reading an article one morning this week about the dangers of drinking too much caffeine I decided to give up diet coke.
By 9:30 am that same morning I cracked open my first diet coke & decided to give up swearing instead.
Are there any other creative ways I can find to stretch my dollar? This whole recession/ cash crunching time we're in is making me more careful, creative, and obsessive with how & where I spend my money.
Will I ever figure out this whole Boy Scout program thing? Caleb has been eight for a whopping 2 weeks, and I'm already completely stressed out! We've already had a "space derby", a shirt mishap, a manual that sounds like gibberish to me, and all these stinkin' patches that I'm supposed to attach to the darn shirt. HELP! Someone please help me!
Watching Kassidy resting on my bed and thinking to myself, "Wow, she is really mine. She is a part of me. She is amazing."
No matter how much I volunteer at school with parties, activities & field trips - What matters most to my kids is the last party, activity, or field-trip. And if I wasn't there, then WHY NOT!?!?
Should the Jazz keep Boozer around? 'Cause seriously, his defense stinks & I think Millsap is the man.

Obviously, a trip to the funny farm for me isn't very far away. However, I am enjoying the ride.

Hey y'all - my sister rocks!

2009-03-21T19:52:00.006-06:00

My mom, Kassidy & I went to the "Zen Center" in Salt Lake to listen to my sister sing. She has a fantastic voice, and Kassidy thinks her Aunt Kami is the coolest EVER (well, she pretty much is) so we were very excited to hear her sing her heart out.

Here we are waiting for the show to begin.

Yeah, I know, she ROCKS!

Happy Birthday Special Agent Caleb!!

2009-03-19T10:10:00.003-06:00

My little guy turned eight years old a week ago today. I spent two weeks preparing for his "Spy Party" and the last week recovering from it, so I'm completely behind in blogging. Let me tell you, 15 kids - most of them 8 year old boys - running around in one house for 2 hours is exhausting! But we had a lot of fun and I think the party turned out pretty great.

First, I want to write about this little guy who has stolen my heart. Before he was born, I was absolutely certain that he was a girl. We couldn't tell from the ultra-sound, but I always knew that I'd end up with another girl, so I was positive he was a she. I even went out and bought brand new baby girl clothes that would match his big sister's spring outfits. No lie! Caleb was delivered by c-section, and the moment he was born the doctor held him "bootie first" over the paper drape between my head and tummy, and announced, "it's a boy!". That was the moment he stole my heart, and he's kept stealing it on a daily basis for the last 8 years.

But first, here are a few photos from when he was a baby. Please forgive me, I just took digital photos of them from the poster on his bedroom wall. Hence, the flash that I couldn't figure out how to turn off. This one is from Holden Beach, NC when he was 6 months old. We used to spend a week at the beach every summer when we lived in Charlotte. This was his first experience with crawling around in & eating the sand.
Caleb has always, always adored his big sister. He used to roll, crawl, scoot, or whatever else he could make his little body do to get close to her. From the moment he could stand up, he started to run. I don't think the boy ever walked. He was an absolute TANK and it cracked me up to see him running as fast as he could to whatever it was that he wanted. The icecream man used to roll through our neighborhood in Charlotte at least 2 to 3 times a day. When Caleb was only about 15 months old, he would hear that icecream tune coming from the truck and there was no stopping him. He would start running as fast as his little chubby feet would carry him to the icecream truck hollering "Iceceam!! Iceceam!!" before I even had a chance to grab my wallet. Thankfully, I lived by some really great ladies who would often buy him his icecream before I even showed up.

I love this photo for SO MANY reasons! It captures his smile that lights up the world and his love for his sisters all in one shot.

Caleb's brain must go a million miles a minute, because the guy never stops asking questions. Sometimes, he doesn't even wait for the answer before he is blurting out another question. He also uses the cutest darn words on the planet. When we first moved to Utah, he and I went to a candy shop together. He was about 2 and a half years old. The first words out of his mouth when he saw all of the candy were, "This is AMAZING!". He loves to call it the way he see's it, and definitely has the words to do it.

Caleb is also very tender hearted and extremely in-tune with the spirit of God. I went up to tuck him in once when he was about 6 years old. I found him sitting on his bed with tears rolling down his cheeks. He looked at me and said, "Mommy, does it ever make you cry when you pray?". The other day in church, I heard a boy his age ask Caleb, "Why do we even need Jesus?" Caleb's immediate reply was, "Because Jesus shares his perfection with us!". He has always been mischievious, but I've never doubted that his heart is sweet and tender down to the very core.

For his 8th birthday, Caleb wanted a SPY PARTY. We sent out "Top Secret" invitations to all of his friends to attend a spy camp at our house. The kids got their own spy hats, spy badges, and played games teaching them spy techniques. After dinner, cake & presents, they went off on a secret mission to find their goodie bags that contained the rest of the spy items they would need.

Here is Caleb reading the first clue for their secret mission.

I even made the cake with some help from my niece Tiff.

It was a chocolate cake with white frosting. Everything else was black. And no, those aren't rotten plums on his cake, they are BOMBS! Actually, they were tangerines wrapped in black buttercream fondant with tinfoil fuses.

Every child had their picture taken at the beginning of the party for their very own I.D. badge.

On our kids actual birthdays, they get to choose what they want for breakfast (Caleb chose German Pancakes) and where they would like to go out to eat for dinner. Here is a photo of the kids at their favorite eating establishment, Chuck-a-rama :). Mike calls it barf-a-rama, but the kids love it because it's an all you can eat buffet.

Happy 8th Birthday Caleb! We love you!

Why yes, I am on Prozac - why do you ask?

2009-03-04T14:50:00.010-07:00

Crap. So the cat's out of the bag. It's probably pretty obvious at this point that yes, I suffer from depression. Surprise, surprise! I'm pretty good at managing it anymore, except for when life throws me a curve ball & then I have to improvise until I get myself back on track. Hence, my most recent state & inability to manage my life in a semi-normal way since the beginning of 2009.

I used to absolutely HATE admitting to anyone, myself included, that I struggle with depression. I mean, what type A person out there really wants to admit to the world that they honestly can't control everything about their own lives like they'd like to think they can. I certainly didn't want to. I like order. Depression is not conducive to an orderly lifestyle. So, at times it is just easier to pretend that the depression does not exist. This works okay when it is just you. But you add a spouse & kids and suddenly pretending is NOT an option anymore. 'Cause when all hell breaks lose, they kind-of notice.

For me, the struggle with depression & anxiety (seriously, as though life isn't tough enough already!) has been lifelong. I remember my first anxiety attack like it were yesterday, and I was 10. It was enough to scare the daylights out of me, so I can only imagine what it did to my mom. Considering what little information and research we had back then on the subject, she did a pretty damn good job!

So why did I finally admit to myself that this was a problem that needed to be dealt with? Pretty much when Mike said to me, "Kristen, before we have this third baby that you seem to know needs to come to our family, you need to get some help for your depression". My response prior to having 2 children would have been something like, " Me? Depressed? You must be joking! You obviously must have me mixed up with some other amazing woman you know." But by that time, it was quite obvious that I had something going on in the depression department. So I did what I do every time my sweet husband asks me to do something, I obeyed. (Okay, so that was in jest, poor Mike doesn't have a very "obedient" wife - but this time I did). I went to my doctor, and he prescribed an anti-depressent. Taking those damn pills was a hard thing for me to do. In my mind, I had failed. I had lost the battle of "self-control".

About 2 weeks into taking those damn pills, I noticed a change. I felt level headed without even trying. I was no longer an emotional yo-yo in perpetual motion. I looked at Mike and said, "Is this how it feels to feel normal?". It was something I had honestly NEVER experienced before. My life before anti-depressants felt like I was walking around with a bad sunburn covering my entire body and heart. Literally EVERYTHING felt like it was scratching on this sunburn. Some were little scratches, while others were deep gouges, but the scratching was continuous. It took enormous mental energy for me to not scream out at the world and yell, "Hey, watch it buddy! That hurts!" I used all of my energy protecting that stupid sunburn, which is incredibly hard, not to mention exhausting, when you have 2 kids running around.

For the first time that I could ever remember, I didn't have to focus all of that energy to keep me from going up and down like a yo-yo. It came automatically. I could relax and actually enjoy the ride. From that moment on I made a promise to myself that I would never hide the fact that I have depression and I take medication to control it. Maybe if I talk about it without embarassment, then other people won't be embarassed if they are facing the same thing. Maybe I can help keep one person from living on this earth for 32 years before they actually realize there are treatments available for their illness. I don't know. I guess it's worth a try. For what it's worth - I have depression and take medication to help me live a non-depresssed life. It works for me, and I am not embarassed by it. Enough said.

Finding The Light

2009-02-28T09:16:00.004-07:00

It's probably been obvious to anyone who knows me even remotely that I am struggling. I have been trying to pull myself out of it but to no avail. Ever since Mike & I learned that his dad was in the hospital for the very first time, I've felt as though I'm wearing a weighted body suit and I have to fight with every ounce of strength within me to get anything done. And just because it's been a month since he passed away, it doesn't mean the sorrow has left my heart. So - my heart, body, and brain have been in survival mode. I seriously dislike living in survival mode. It is not an easy way to live. I feel as though a dark, thick cloud has encircled me, and to be honest, I'm exhausted from fighting it.

It's funny how when I find myself confronted with something like this, how easily I forget to turn to what I know without a doubt to be an absolute source of peace. A few days ago, I picked up my scriptures for the first time in a number of days. Before beginning to read, I silently prayed to God that he would help me PLEASE find a way out of the dark cloud I am currently in. Or at least, help me to deal with it until it goes away. I am reading in the Book of Mormon. My goal was to read it cover to cover before the end of the year 2008. Obviously - I haven't "checked off" that goal yet, as it's the end of February 2009, and I'm only two thirds of the way through. However, as I began to read, I immediately realized that God knew I would need this scripture at this point in time, NOT in December of 2008.

I'm reading in the book of Helaman about the missionaries Nephi and Lehi. They had dedicated their lives to the preaching of God's word, and were ultimately cast into prison by a city of unbelievers. As I began to read, these are honestly the first words I read, "And it came to pass that they were overshadowed with a cloud of darkness". It is talking about the other people in the prison with Nephi & Lehi, who were covered in darkness as Nephi & Lehi were encircled about "as if by fire". Now, I've read this exact same story countless times, but on this day as I read my heart and mind SHOUTED within me, "that is EXACTLY how I feel!". And immediately the peace I had been seeking entered my heart as I finally realized - He knows! God knows! He knows that I'm encircled about with a cloud of darkness, and He will help me find my way out.

I continued to read, and I continued to find peace. At that moment, the spirit of God spoke to my soul. The sorrow hasn't lifted, but I do feel as the cloud of darkness is gone and I am encircled by light.

For the past few days as I've thought about exactly what to write about on my blog, this is the only thing I can even think about writing - because at that moment, it was life changing. I always tell myself that I use my blog as a way to record & share my thoughts and feelings with others, with the hope that someday I will share it with my children. So my post for today is this: God knows me, He loves me, and He wants me to find peace. AND I have NO DOUBT that He wants the same for you.

4th photo in my 4th folder

2009-02-24T09:40:00.004-07:00

So I'm stealing this idea from my nephew's wife. She has a darling blog, and wrote a post about the fourth photo in her fourth folder. So I'm copying her, because ... 1. I was curious what my photo was, and 2. I thought it might force me to write about something new. I was right. This photo is from our trip to Paris a year and a half ago. Mike took it for me while standing in the middle of the busy street. Apparently it's a famous street known for it's famous fashion designers and all that (blah, blah, blah) but as you've probably noticed I'm not all that into fashion. I shop for my clothing at Costco, Target, and sometimes even Old Navy if I'm feeling a little "wild and crazy". Thinking about fashion is about as exciting to me as folding the laundry, so obviously, the importance of this street was lost on plain ole' me.

But as for Paris, I WAS BLOWN AWAY!!! I used to always think, why do they always call Paris the most romantic city in the world? I figured it was just due to the French exaggerating about their own feelings of self-importance. I mean - where do they get off calling it that? Well, now I understand. I must preface this by saying that I have not been to every city in the world, BUT I have been to Paris. And I can now say that it is most definitely the most romantic city in my world.

The history, the museums, the architecture, the art, holy cow - the HISTORY! And that crazy tall tower that everyone always makes such a big deal about. They are ALL AMAZING!!! And the lights, the languages, the unique neighborhoods, the old subway, the trains, the FOOD - I loved it all. Mike and I wandered around Paris from sun up to way past sun down for three days. The fashion may have been lost on me, but the city itself was not.

RAD Kids

2009-02-19T21:17:00.005-07:00

This past year there have been atleast two attempted abductions of children in my neighborhood. These attempts were fairly aggressive, and thankfully both children were able to run away. The reaction of the parents in our neighborhood was certainly something to behold. Information about the individual seeking to harm our children was circulated quickly and thoroughly with flyiers and via email. There were neighborhood discussions, and meetings with police.

Then this summer some concerned parents went the extra mile, and introduced our community to something called "RAD Kids". RAD in an acronymn for Resisting Aggression Defensively. It is an absolutely amazing program designed to teach kids how to protect themselves. They don't just talk about being safe, they let them practice how to keep themselves safe. It contains a fairly intensive curriculum, and requires those hoping to be instructors in the RAD Kids program to participate in a very rigorous training program.

After learning about the program - many elementary schools in our area found volunteers and financial assistance in creating a RAD Kids program for their students. My own children have been lucky enough to have dedicated parents & school personel institute a RAD Kids program for our school. This January I watched my sweet Kassidy literally "practice" getting away from a "bad guy". It made me so proud and grateful for the program. I'm going to include a video of her "practice" session, and a link to the RAD Kids website. But, before I do, I wanted to tell you the first two RAD Kid rules (that personally I think are AWESOME!).

You are Special! And ABSOLUTELY NO ONE has the right to hurt you.
You do not have the right to hurt anyone else, Including yourself, UNLESS you are stopping someone from hurting you.

I've had some pretty frank conversations with my kids this year about bullies, strangers, and anyone else who could try to hurt them (including friends and relatives), and how they should respond. But the cool thing is, they have been able to physically practice how to resist aggression from others on a consistent basis. I hope you check out the website - I promise it will be worth your time.

www.radkids.org

I'm just freakin tired

2009-02-17T22:21:00.002-07:00

I've always hated the word "freakin". I mean, we all know what word is actually going through your mind when you say "freakin", but you just don't say it. However, I am grateful that it is used instead of the other word, because, well - I hate that one even more.

But here I am using it. FREAKIN. FREAKIN. FREAKIN. There, I said it again. I am just freakin tired. I am. I keep trying not to be, but I am. And tonight I'm just freakin tired of being freakin tired, and I'm freakin tired of pretending I'm not.

My awesome sister gave me this book that's all about "positive thinking" and that sort of stuff. (I'm working on the "no swearing" goal, can you tell?). To be honest, I believe in it. Probably not in the exact same way that she does, but I do believe in it. And man alive have I seen an amazing change in her since she began practicing that sort of stuff. (See, I avoided swearing again!) So I've been working on coming up with an "Affirmation" that I can repeatedly tell myself so I can be positive, productive, and generally happy. This is what I've come up with:

I am filled with energy, truth & light. I show respect for my mind, body & spirit by "feeding" them "healthy" things.

Okay, so that last sentence still needs a little work, but I've been working on it for a month already. Seriously! So here's the problem. Sometimes I'm just TIRED and I want to admit to myself that I'm tired. Sometimes I just want to eat a huge bowl of Dreyers Icecream or down 6 oatmeal cookies even though it is completely NOT healthy for my body. And, sometimes I just want to drive along in my wicked mini-van, listening to Def Leppard or AC/DC and sing at the top of my lungs to their NOT so spiritual songs. But damn it, I love 'em! (Oh crap, sorry about that one).

So, tomorrow when I wake up I'm going to tell myself that I'm "filled with energy, truth & light" and that I need to show respect for my mind, body & spirit. But for tonight, I am just freakin tired.

A place for everything, and everything in it's place

2009-02-05T21:36:00.003-07:00

Hooray, Hooray, HOORAY!!! I worked my bootie off today organizing and cleaning, and it felt so darn good. For two days in a row now I've actually showered and worn something other than my p.j's. Okay, let me back up, this last week has been a hard one for me. I've spent the last week struggling to even get the basics done. The basics for me are feeding, clothing, and interacting with my kids. Oh yeah, and sometimes feeding me. Anything above and beyond that is more than the basics for this mommy. Showering and changing clothes are a luxury. Don't get me wrong, I'm not digusting (okay so not really disgusting), I just wear the same flannel bottoms for a couple of days before I finally shower, put my hair in a ponytail, and put on a new pair of flannel bottoms. So, a few days ago I was snuggling with Kaitlyn when she said to me, "Mommy, you kind of stink." Nothing like blazing honesty from my 5 year old to help me realize - I'VE GOT TO START SNAPPING OUT OF THIS! So yesterday I started small. I showered, I blow dried my hair (I even wore it DOWN!), and put on some make-up. I went to lunch with some great girlfriends and CONVERSED with them for two whole hours. This morning I decided to do it again, and maybe up the momentum a little bit. I thought to myself, "Come on now Kristen, you can do it! You can shower, get ready and have a productive day." Well guess what? I DID. I worked hard & it was awesome!

Today I attacked the playroom. Now the playroom in our house is like the eternal thorn in my side. It is a mess. My kids have way too much stuff & boy am I ever paying for it. Ever since Christmas it has been the usual mess times ten. It was crowded & disorganized & driving me CRAZY! One of the hardest things for me about motherhood is dealing with this sort of stuff. I like things to be organized. I like to put things in bins or on shelves and label it all so I actually know where it is. I do not do well in chaos. This is a verifiable fact. Just ask Mike.

After my own personal pep talk, I started on the playroom. I began by putting everything into the center of the room in one big pile. I even dump out everything that is in bins or drawers so I am starting from scratch. If you've never done that, it's actually a LOT of fun. Call me crazy if you want, but it's the truth. I was tossing baby dolls, star wars figures, and stuffed animals. I swear, I created my own Mt. Everest in the middle of my house out of barbies and legos. Then I vacuumed everywhere I normally can't reach with a vacuum, wiped off all of the big plastic toys Mike hates, and rearranged them. At this point I realize I'm going to need a few more plastic bins. Four more to be exact. As I found the bins I was looking for at Smith's MarketPlace a beautiful thing happened - they were on sale!! I knew at that moment that TODAY was THE day for me to be organizing. I mean, sales on organization supplies are almost like a sign from heaven aren't they?

Now with my new shiny plastic bins all lined up and all of the big toys in place, I began sorting through the enormous pile of stuff in the middle of the playroom. Everything has a place in the playroom. The kids don't always put everything in the right place, but everything has a place. I label the bins (before my kids could read I even put pictures on them), throw junk away, make a pile for donations, and put every toy in its new little home. As the pile dwindles and everything is so neat & organized, I feel like everything is all right in the world. At least in that one room. It becomes my own little "happy place" for this one, beautiful, organized moment in time. And let me tell you, it feels good!

Celebrating 25 Years of Friendship

2009-02-03T22:38:00.005-07:00

Therese, me, some guy named Mark, and Amy (our 2009 trip)

Amy with her good friend Kevin Bacon, me & my pal Tom Hanks, and Therese with ole' what's his name at Universal Studios. (2007 trip)

Every year I get to take a trip with two of my closest girlfriends. We go away for 3 or 4 days and just have an absolute ball. These girls have been my friends since I was 13 years old. This year marks 25 years of friendship. 25 YEARS!!! They know ALL of my dirt, and thankfully, I know all of theirs as well. Between the three of us, that's some serious dirt! 25 years of dirt to be exact. We laugh hysterically from the moment we hit the airport terminal (we can't laugh until then because I'm always freaked out until we are sitting in the CORRECT terminal prior to our plane taking off), and don't stop for pretty much the entire trip. We've been doing this for 5 years now, and have been to St. George, Phoenix, Park City, McCall (Idaho), and So. California. What's hilarious is that we just pick up exactly where we left off the previous year. It's like one enormous party with year long potty breaks scattered throughout. We stay up late, eat way too many treats, and have one heckuva good time. We also tease the daylights out of each other, just like we were still in Jr. High. And oh, the stories I could tell, but many of them I'll have to take to the grave right along with me. But that is one of the most amazing things about REAL friends. They know the good, the bad, and the ugly, and they still love you. Thanks ladies! I'm already lookin' forward to next year!

Good Grief!

2009-02-02T20:45:00.002-07:00

Anyone who has had their heart broken before, in any shape or form, knows in their gut that grieving is hard. It is not an easy process, it hurts like hell, and there is absolutely no way around it. I think all of us have done our own fair share of grieving in our lives. This past weekend my son even did a little grieving over the fact that Burger King only had girl toys to include in his kids meal (or maybe it's just that he gave me a lot of grief over it, I can't remember which).

I've watched four different people that I loved deeply exit this life before I was ready for them to leave. Every single time, it has literally brought me to my knees in sorrow. And even though I firmly believe that God has a purpose in taking them, it doesn't always stop me from just being ticked off anyway. These are people I love. These are people I want HERE. ON THIS EARTH. So I can hug them, talk with them, and tell them I love them just one more time. Call me selfish, but I'm telling you the truth. Yes, grieving is hard.

I've started to pay attention to the way I grieve. It's always a complicated process, and what worked the last time my heart was broken like this doesn't always seem to work this time around. Here are some of the things that I do when my heart is broken:

I cry. A lot. Especially in the car when I'm alone. Or in the shower. Or sometimes in front of the entire world. I just cry a lot. It seems to cleanse my soul.

I pray. A lot. Especially in the car, or in the shower, in my closet, or while I'm lying in bed. Sometimes God is the only one who I tell how I really feel about the whole situation. And even though I'm ticked off - He still listens. And He still loves me. Imagine that.

I eat chocolate. Especially semi-sweet chocolate chips. I had bought a big bag of chocolate chips from Costco for the holidays, and I had maybe used a third of them. That bag is now empty. I refuse to buy another bag, because ten pounds is enough in grieving chocolate weight.

I sit and stare into space. I honestly can't explain this one, or why I do it. But I do. I just sit. And stare into space.

I laugh. As much as I can. With my girlfriends, my family, my sweet husband. It helps me to remember that someday out there in the future I won't feel so completely lost. I will feel normal again. Whatever that means.

So thank you. To those of you who have watched me eat enormous amounts of chocolate and stare into space - and love me anyway. To those of you who have listened to me cry, sometimes even wail. To those of you who have made me laugh when my world feels like it's been turned upside down. Thank you for helping me, and allowing me to grieve. It has meant more than you'll ever know.

Larry Hugh Ricks 1935 - 2009

2009-01-30T21:19:00.006-07:00

This is the last photo that I have of my kids with their Grandpa Ricks (Mike's dad). This was taken before he went to the hospital to have a biopsy taken from his lung. In my gut I had a feeling that it would be the last time we would see him in this life, so I made sure the kids gave him a hug & I took this photo. Then I hugged him, kissed his cheek, and told him that I loved him. By Saturday he was gone. As a family, our hearts are broken and grieving right now. I'm posting the life sketch of my sweet father-in-law that was written for & delivered at his funeral this past Wednesday by his granddaughter Tiffany Logan and myself.

Life Sketch for Larry Hugh Ricks

We feel very honored to have been given the opportunity to write and deliver the life sketch of Larry Ricks. To all of us here, Larry was a loved one, friend, sweetheart, dad, Grandpa and Great-Grandpa. He was indeed a man who lived his life, his way. When he made up his mind to do something, he did it. He was a man known for his loyalty, honesty, and humor. Contemplating his life these last few days has been a humbling experience, and we are grateful to be able to share moments from his life with you.

Larry Hugh Ricks was born on Thursday July 25th, 1935 in his Grandmother Hicks’ house in Rexburg, Idaho. Larry was the son of Silas Edwin and Georgia Theola Green Ricks and younger brother to Jean Ricks Wolfley. His amazing mother wrote about his life on an almost daily basis. Reading these journals filled with stories from his youth made it difficult to choose which to share. These are a few that stood out the most.

Throughout much of his life, Larry lived on his family’s homestead in Alta, Wyoming. As a small child he was sick quite often, but was strong willed and survived Scarlet Fever, Chicken Pox, the Measles, and the Mumps – all before he turned five years old. During his younger years he was the typical old time farm boy. Larry traveled everywhere on his trusty mare, Old Clara. He claimed he could tromp and ride after the cows, sheep, and anything else he needed to. Most times you could find him with a trap in one hand and either a gun or a bow and arrow grasped tightly in the other, waiting to wreak havoc on any small unsuspecting creature that crossed his path. Larry was taught to make his own arrows and would always volunteer to unload any shells in his Daddy’s shotguns when needed. Since his Daddy was gone much of the time, either herding sheep on the mountain or at the mill, Larry would take the opportunity to be the man of the house and get dinner for the women when needed. Once his Daddy even told him, “Son, we can’t afford to feed you.” and he responded with “That’s okay ‘cause I can feed myself”. He would trap squirrels in small traps, hunt rabbits with a gun, and use his bow and arrow to get a chicken for his mamma’s supper. At the age of eight, Grandpa Green caught a bear in a trap and let Larry shoot it. For an eight year old boy, that was pretty exciting!

Just like any other younger brother, Larry had a strong personality and enjoyed teasing his sister at every opportunity. As a result of his teasing, he ended up on the receiving end of numerous spankings. He even wrote in his journal, “I was kinda naughty. I really don’t mean to be but things just don’t go right sometimes. Daddy had to spank me. I don’t think it helps.”

During High School Larry was a little bit of a rebel. He was one of the guys out in back of the school, smoking and drinking. Even as a teacher’s son, he absolutely hated to go to school. His journal is full of entries that included the phrase “I can’t wait until the weekend”. While nearly every Monday was described as something he dreaded as he knew he had to head back to school for another week. In fact, when Larry was a Senior in High School, he decided he had simply had enough of school. He had only 2 weeks left until graduation, but decided he was quitting school altogether, and headed home. That day when he announced to his mom exactly what he had done she made it known that he obviously hadn’t thought very hard about his decision. Then she said, “Two weeks? Two weeks isn’t a very long time. You can stand on your head for two weeks if you had to.” Needless to say, he went back to school the very next day and finished. Larry shared this story with his kids as they grew up and faced hard times. In fact, it had a tremendous impact on Mike. When he is facing a difficult trial or challenge he will often remind himself of Grandma Ricks’ words to his father, “I could stand on my head for two weeks if I have to.”

Larry was two years older than Nelda Ard. They went to high school together, but never hung around with the same group of friends. It wasn’t until Spring of 1956 that they had their first date when Larry took her to Green Canyon. After that, he would simply pick her up from work at the drug store so they could take long drives or cruise Main Street together. What happened next is a perfect example of how when Larry made up his mind about something, he did it. He had decided that he wanted to marry Nelda Ard. So when Nelda left for LDS Business College in Salt Lake City, he followed her. They married on December 28, 1956.

Larry was a hard worker. He drove truck for many years for various companies including Morgan Driveway and Barrett Mobile Homes where he would haul trailers. Vicky remembered this most vividly because she would drive the pilot car for Dad and he would inform her before, during and after the trip that she was doing it all wrong. Though the only reason it was wrong was because Dad couldn’t be in the pilot car and the big truck at the same time. Larry also worked as a “Bugger” where he would spray trees. Pam recalls her Daddy coming home from work and running to give him a big hug, only to break out into hives a couple of hours later. She always thought she was allergic to her Daddy but later learned that it was just an allergy to the pesticides. Larry worked for Fall River Electric for many years where he worked as a Power Plant Operator and the final twelve years before retiring as a meter reader.

These are only some of the jobs that Larry held in order to support his growing family. Larry and Nelda became the loving parents of five children. The oldest being Vicky who recalls Dad teaching her to spin cookies in her pinto correctly after observing her try without success. She recalls “Dad took me down to the school yard and showed me how to spin a cookie using the parking brake. Then to make sure I would be able to do it correctly he had me practice it all the way back home. “

Second in line was Pam who remembers relating to her Dad most during her self-proclaimed “hooligan days”. It was at this time that he understood her best because he had been there himself. Larry remembered vividly being a rebel in High School. He would counsel her about the choices she was making and what she was doing. But he always made sure to let Pam know that no matter what she did, it would never change the way he loved her and cared for her.

The third of the five children was Kirk. He reminisced about the time when dad woke him up at 5am one morning, so they could take dad’s boat and go fishing. They drove up to Yellowstone Lake and spent an entire day together, just the two of them, talking and fishing.

The fourth and only planned child of the family was Georgia. She fondly recalls night after night sitting with Dad watching T.V. shows and scratching his back. As soon as she would stop scratching for even a moment, Dad would gladly tug on one of her toes to remind her about what she had been doing so that she would start scratching his back again.

The fifth and final surprise for Larry and Nelda was Mike who was born four years after Georgia and was fourteen years younger than his eldest sister. Growing up he probably had the most time by himself with Dad than any of the other kids just because he was so much younger than the others. Mike remembers spending time together with Dad riding horses, hunting and fishing. To this day he doesn’t really recall how many fish were caught, or whether they shot anything. What he does remember is that they spent time together as a father and son doing the things they both loved.

Larry loved a lot of things. But one of those things that he loved, and could absolutely never get enough of was cars. He loved everything about them – driving them, fixing them, buying them, selling them, and looking for them. After Larry went to the hospital in St. George for the first time, nearly the entire family made it down to visit with him. As we were driving Larry’s pick-up between their St. George home & the hospital, we found a section of newspaper stuffed in-between the seats. Upon further examination, we realized that it was the classified ads listing cars for sale. Larry had circled dozens of them. It brought a smile to our faces and tears to our eyes - He could just never get enough of cars.

One other thing that Larry loved, was telling stories. They were as simple as his latest argument and as complicated as his relationships with his children. They reflected his greatest joys, hardest challenges, or his favorite Alaskan adventure. He would tell these stories over & over again until all who were close to him, knew them by heart. The last few years he would often say, “I’ve probably already told you this story before, but I don’t care, I’m going to tell it again” and then he was off & sharing.

For those of us who “joined” the Ricks family by marrying into it, we knew we had finally become a real piece in this wonderful family puzzle when a story about you was finally being told by Larry. It was one of those things that made you feel like you truly belonged. I still remember very clearly the first one that was “truly mine” in Larry’s story arsenal. I’d share it with you, but like a lot of Larry’s stories, it’s not exactly church material.

One of the last stories that Larry thoroughly enjoyed sharing with his family & friends was about something that happened to him while he was in the hospital in St. George. A doctor, whom everyone called Dr. “Sam”, was describing to Larry & his family about the mass they had found in his lungs. This doctor was from Africa, and had moved to the United States to practice medicine. When Larry asked Dr. Sam, “What do we do if it’s cancer?”. Dr. Sam replied in is thick African accent, “This is America man, we fix it!”.

Larry also loved Teton Valley. He loved fishing, hunting, and riding his snow machine. He loved driving to town and eating at local café’s mainly so he could enjoy the company of good friends. He loved watching westerns and his yellow cat that he had appropriately named “number 1”. He loved his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Most of them were scared to death of him at first, but soon came to understand that he loved them deeply, and missed them dearly when they weren’t around. And above all else, he loved his sweetheart.

In fact, a few years back Larry surprised us all. He had decided that he wanted to be sealed to his loving wife of 47 years in the temple. And like so many other times in Larry’s life, once the decision was made, he did all within his power to insure that it happened. On August 2, 2003 he took his sweetheart & loving wife to the Idaho Falls Temple so they could be sealed together eternally. His love for and relationship with Nelda Ard Ricks was now something that he could look forward to treasuring forever.

As Larry and Nelda got into their later life, they retired to enjoy their winters in St. George where Larry spent his time four wheeling with his many friends down there. There he was also known as Squeaky due to the bicycle that he rode around that would squeak every time the pedal made a full rotation. Larry enjoyed the sun, the peacefulness, and the laid back nature of the St. George area but just like when he was a child, he greatly yearned to be where his heart always stayed. In his home at the base of the Tetons.

As Larry learned of his cancer, he took his final journey to Teton Valley, where he spent his last few days surrounded by family and loved ones. His final precious moments were spent holding the hand of his one true love. On Saturday, January 24th, 2009, with the winds howling & the snow falling, Larry left us with warmth in our hearts and a smile on his face as he went to join his mother and father once again.

While he was in the Valley enjoying his days of retirement, Larry always made at least one trip every day into town. As he would drive by Georgia’s house on the way in, she would look at her family and say, “There’s dad checking up on us again”. It is small and simple things like these that will be sorely missed

Larry’s favorite quote hangs on the bulletin board in the kitchen in Alta. It is a quote from President Gordon B. Hinckley, and has been printed on the back of your program. We’d like to close our remarks by reading it to you.

“Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he’s been robbed. The fact is that most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is like an old time rail journey … delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, & interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas, and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.”

Today we thank God for the life and example of Larry Hugh Ricks, whose ride on that “old time rail journey” came to its final stop last Saturday. Larry, we love you, we will always remember you, and we look forward to the day we can be with you again. We can’t wait to hear about the new stories & adventures you will have to share.

What does it means to be a Ricks?

2009-01-12T20:55:00.005-07:00

Grandma Ricks 100th Birthday Party.
Kassidy, Kaitlyn & Caleb sitting with their Great Grandma Ricks

It’s been a nearly 15 years now that I’ve been a Ricks. When Mike asked me to marry him after our date on December 10, 1993 (yes – call me corny – I remember the date) I had not even met his family. (Note to my children – this is NOT a nice thing to do to your parents!!!) Now, when a woman finds someone that she wants to marry, and decides to take his name as her own, it is a big deal. Okay, maybe not for everyone, but for this woman it was a big deal. I grew up an Anderson. At the very core of me I still am an Anderson. I am incredibly stubborn & independent just like generations of Andersons who have gone before me. I watch my dad today and continually think to myself, “Hell, I am just like him!”. And I mean that in a good way. My dad is someone I want to be like, and I’m proud to be an Anderson. But lately, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a Ricks. After all, I am one, and I’m raising 3 of them.

It all started last weekend during chores. We do chores every Saturday. This is not a new development btw, but they sure act like it is every Saturday. We have daily chores and weekly chores. Without fail, my kids especially complain about the weekly chores. You would think that after years of Saturday chores they would have finally given up with the complaining, but they haven’t. In fact, this last weekend it was more than usual and I had HAD ENOUGH! Finally I sat all three of them down in the hall and said, “Do you know who we are? We are Rickses. And do you know what that means? We come from generations of Rickses who have worked hard and sacrificed much so we could have this amazing life that we have today. How do you think it makes our ancestors feel when we waste time complaining about laundry, messy rooms, and having to scrub toilets? They didn’t even have toilets for crying out loud! They crossed the plains, worked the land, and gave their all for their families, and you thank them by complaining about how hard your life is?” Man, I was on a roll, and it got my kids attention. I insured them that it is their job to carry on the family name in a way that will make generations of parents and grandparents proud. So stop the complaining and start working! Then I sent them off with a “Make ‘em proud!” pep talk and it seemed to work. But is also got me thinking. What does it really mean to be a Ricks?

I was mulling this question around in my brain when we received word on Thursday that my father-in-law was in the hospital with pneumonia and had a large mass growing in his lungs. It is most likely lung cancer. And at the moment, we didn’t know if he would be able to even beat the pneumonia. This was a scary call to receive. Suddenly I went from pondering what it meant to be a part of this family, to watching it in real time. What happened was quite amazing. I watched a family of Rickses jump into action. A family that has had its differences, hang ups, and struggles. A family that can fight and hold grudges with the best of them. A family that put all of that a side, came together and did the things that needed to be done. Nearly our entire family made it down to St. George to be with my mother-in-law and father-in-law. They analyzed the situation, discussed the options, and made things happen. It was a weekend where nothing was sugar coated, we just faced the facts head on. I was present for a few days at the hospital, watching brothers & sisters taking care of their mom & dad, and in the process they were taking care of one another. After a short glimpse into this difficult situation, I have now returned home with my heart full of love for this amazing family.

So what does it mean to be a Ricks? It means you are strong. It means you work hard. It means you don’t whine about the cards life deals you, you just play them the best way that you can. It means you are resourceful, and can approach life with a no nonsense attitude and a sense of humor at the same time. It means when the chips are down, you are there for each other. It means that love really can conquer all. Yes, I’ve spent 15 years among the Ricks family, and the stories I’ve heard, and the moments I’ve witnessed have forever engraved in my soul what it truly means to be a Ricks. I pray that I too will make them proud, and through my actions add only strength to the definition.

Typical Caleb

2009-01-09T20:29:00.005-07:00

Caleb was in his bedroom getting ready for bed tonight when he came out onto the landing to tell me something. He hollered, "Hey mom! Guess What?". To which I responded, "What is it buddy?". This was what he had to tell me, WORD FOR WORD.

"In Science today we were learning about cells, that make up tissue, that make up organs, that make up organ systems, that make up the digestive system."

"Oh really? That's pretty cool buddy!" was my response. He then began to list the organs involved in his digestive system while pointing to his body to indicate where they are located. After explaining how the liver sends bile to the stomach to break up molecules from the food we eat, I finally asked the all important questions I must ask my 7 year old before bed each night. "So did you brush your teeth and go potty?" He nodded yes & I sent him off to bed. I stood there wondering - where did this kid come from & how can I get him to share some of his brain cells with me? He's so darn cute that I just want to eat him up!

No New Year's Resolutions

2009-01-07T17:11:00.007-07:00

With it being the a new year and all, I've been thinking a lot about New Year's Resolutions. I come up with 'em every year. Sometimes I even write them down or share them with Mike thinking that'll make me more "accountable" and therefore, more willing to work on them consistently. Well, I've come to realize there is only one consistent thing with ALL of my New Year's Resolutions. That is - without a doubt - I ALWAYS forget about them. Usually around March when I'm getting ready for Caleb's birthday. Then it's Easter & the kids Spring vacation. Which leads into the last 6 weeks of school which is chuck full of field trips, recitals, teacher appreciation stuff, programs, etc. Then we run FULL FORCE into summer. Catch my drift? How in the world I'm I supposed to remember to work on specific goals for an entire year? Seriously? I feel like I'm on the top of my game when I remember my kids piano lessons and car pool all in the same week. Don't believe me? Let me share a couple of examples from this week alone. Saturday morning I'm up and cleaning my house, totally in a work my butt off mood. Cute Kaitlyn asks me if she can please call her best friend Lauren around noon. "Of course you can!" I say, as she is the only child done with all of her chores (man, that girl can work!). As I'm chatting with Marianne, Lauren's mom, I suddenly realize that her other daughter Maren was baptized this morning. I was supposed to be there. I wanted to be there. I told her 2 days ago that I would be there. But somehow I totally forgot. Now, this wouldn't be so frustrating & embarrassing if I hadn't also forgotten Maren's birthday party a few weeks ago. And then to top it all off, I got our girls gymnastics carpool all confused in my brain just today. These are all examples are all just from my dealings with Marianne! So again I ask you, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REMEMBER TO WORK ON SPECIFIC GOALS FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR?!?!

So this year I'm trying something new. I'm going to make "New Month's Resolutions". I realize this doesn't sound nearly as catchy as the original, so you'll have to forgive me. I'm shooting from the hip here. I figure that these "New Month's Resolutions" might be something I can hopefully remember to work on. So here's the deal. I'm going to make 2 goals with each "New Month" and once the month is gone, I'll focus on something new. For January my goals are pretty easy to remember, and are intended to help me retain (or actually regain) my sanity after the holidays. They are #1 - exercise for at least 30 minutes, 5 days a week. And #2 - engage in meaningful prayer 2 times a day. I can't be doing anything else during these moments of prayer, so driving down the road and praying that God will help me to not swear at crazy drivers doesn't count. I'm in my first week and so far so good!

Now I'm just hoping I remember to make my goals, remember what my goals actually are, and remember when a new month begins. Phew! I'll definitely need to spend some time praying for a better memory. But that'll have to wait until later. I gotta go now as I just realized that I never mailed Marianne's Christmas card, so I'll drop it off when I pick Kaitlyn up from her house. Cross your fingers for me will ya?

Utah does have the greatest snow on earth!

2009-01-02T19:27:00.003-07:00

I went skiing today for the first time this season. I'm not the best skier, as I'm just too dang cautious (and chicken) to be really good. But since our family returned to Utah, I've fallen in love with snow skiing all over again. So today I went skiing with 6 high school girlfriends and had an absolute ball. It was a day full of fun, some pain :), and life lessons. I've discovered that there is much to be learned each day if I will only pay attention to the little pieces of life that seem to pass by so quickly. Here are a few things I learned today on the ski slopes with some fantastic ladies.

Women ROCK!!! Okay, okay, so I already knew that one. But it was confirmed again today as I talked with, laughed with, and skied with these ladies.
Please don't ever, and I mean EVER talk about your bowel movements with a complete stranger. Jessie and I shared a chair lift with a gentleman from San Francisco who felt compelled to share with us the difficulties involved in snow skiing while constipated. SERIOUSLY! He was quite detailed in his explanation, and I was at a loss for words, as was Jessie, which is highly unusual! (I love ya Jess!)
I seriously need to take some skiing lessons, as I was way out of my league with these gals.
Time spent in the Lodge should be just as fun (if not more so) than time on the slopes.
Ice cold wind with flecks of snow do not feel good when inhaled into the lungs.
There will always be rocks in life. You can dodge them, pretend they aren't there, or just plain run over them. But find a way to deal with the rocks, then move on and have some fun.
We all fall. It sure does help to have someone help you up & laugh with you when you're done though.
This world needs peace. So, let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.
Sometimes it is absolutely wonderful to get caught up in the experience of life and forget about everything else.
and oh yeah, women rock!

Thanks ladies! I had the best day!

Happy New Year's Everyone!

2009-01-01T18:10:00.004-07:00

It was the first year that I let the kids have a New Year's Eve party that was pretty much all their own. I've been a horrible planner this holiday season, and since I hadn't planned anything for Mike & I to do, I figured the kids might as well live it up!!! I bought the ingredients for cheese & chocolate fondue, party hats and noise makers, and then the kids supplied the guests. Caleb invited his friend Christian. Here they are after diving (literally) into the chocolate fondue.
Kassidy was the only one who was allowed to have her friends stay until midnight. They all played Wii, put on a fashion show (Caleb was the judge) and a magic show.

Here the girls are enjoying chocolate fondue as well. Life doesn't get much better than this.

All the party guest surrounding the fondue pot. We hope that your 2009 got off to as good of a start as ours did. Happy New Year Everyone!!!

We love Christmas!

2008-12-27T09:30:00.004-07:00

The kids slept in until 8 am on Christmas morning. This would have been perfect if I had been able to sleep past 6 am - I still get as excited as the kids to see what Santa has brought. Except for my excitement is all about the grins on their faces and their shouts of delight. This year was fantastic. We got together as a family in November and talked about how many families are struggling with having enough money right now. We drew a "Christmas Pie" to represent what our kids usually receive for Christmas, and asked them how much of their pie they would be willing to give to another family who didn't have a very large "Christmas Pie" of their own. The generosity of kids never ceases to amaze me.

Merry Christmas Daddy! The kids gave Mike the first season of "The Simpsons"

Kaitlyn asked Santa for "American Doll Girl" twins. Yes, that's how she says it, no matter how many times we ask, "are you sure they aren't called American Girl Dolls?". She saw a picture of them in August when Kass & I returned from our trip to Chicago. She carried that picture around until it literally fell apart into little pieces. Here she is opening the only gift she wanted from Santa.

Kassidy wanted Santa to bring her a chair for her bedroom. He brought her an ottoman, rug & lamp as well. It made Santa kind of sad to hear that her list now consists of furnishings and clothing instead of Barbies and toys. I had to explain to him that kids grow up. He shed a few tears over that one. :)

Caleb's facial expressions are priceless. Here he is opening up his Wii sports pack. As soon as he saw the "Mario Cart" steering wheel - he knew that he must be getting the game as well. He has played Mario Cart so much in the last 2 days, that I think his eyes may permanently glaze over.

We have spent the last few days in our pj's, eating treats, and enjoying Christmas! We hope that you've been able to do some of the same.

Merry Christmas everyone!

I am . . .

2008-12-19T22:08:00.001-07:00

I am . . . almost 38 years old. Wow that went by really fast.
I think. . . way too much, half of the time about stuff that doesn’t really matter.
I know. . . my friends are there for me. They may be laughing, but they are there!
I want. . . to be able to run forever without getting tired.
I have. . . laughed so hard I peed my pants. Seriously.
I dislike. . . really bad chocolate. If you are going to make chocolate, make it right, dang it!
I miss. . . the fall in Vermont.
I fear. . . dying in an airplane crash. Irrational, yet true.
I feel. . . content.
I hear . . . my kids playing star wars.
I smell. . . popcorn.
I crave. . . really good chocolate, diet coke, and . . . I’ll just leave it at that :)
I cry . . . too much, but at least it means I can still feel.
I search. . . Caleb’s eyes to determine if he is telling the truth.
I wonder. . . if I am being a good mom.
I regret. . . not talking about post-partum depression until after the birth of my third child.
I wish. . . I had my own soda fountain with endless diet coke and yummy ice.
I love. . . snuggles, hugs & kisses.
I care. . . about crumbs in my silverware drawer. There seems to be an endless supply of them.
I always. . . sleep with a full glass of water by the side of my bed.
I worry. . . about my kids growing up in a crazy world.
I am not. . . a fashionista. Blue jeans, t-shirts & sweatshirts. That pretty much sums it up.
I remember. . . budgeting $25 a week for groceries.
I believe. . . in Karma.
I sing. . . in the car. Big time.
I don’t . . . like sarcasm.
I argue. . . very seldomly. But when I do, watch out!
I write. . . to unclog my brain and my heart.
I win. . . sometimes I guess, but it’s not a big deal to me.
I lose. . . at rock, paper, scissors. EVERY TIME.
I listen. . . to the news, talk radio, and 80’s rock.
I don’t understand. . . a whole heckuva lot.
I can usually be found. . . drinking a diet coke.
I need. . . sleep. Tons & tons of sleep.
I forget. . . my keys, my phone, my phone number, pretty much anything and everything that can be forgotten.
I am happy. . . period.

A few of the things I'm grateful for...

2008-12-18T19:47:00.008-07:00

I meant to write this one a few weeks ago, and I'm finally getting to it, even without the photos from my infuriating camera. So here are a few of the things that I am really grateful for as 2008 draws to a close...

Sleeping Children. Now don't get me wrong, I love my children when they are awake as well. But there is nothing, and I mean NOTHING like watching these sweet little stinkers sleep. They are absolutely perfect. It warms my heart, makes all life's troubles melt away, and even makes me giggle just watching them sleep. (just look at the shin guards on Caleb's legs and you'll see a great example of why I giggle.)
My new washer and dryer. I've wanted a front load washer and dryer for what feels like forever! I've gone from trudging through my laundry ALL WEEK LONG to starting and finishing it in a single day. What is there not to love about that? Plus they are my favorite color - RED. Even better, they play a little melody to remind me that it's time to switch out the clothes I'm washing/drying. And my favorite - they have a "steam" cycle where you put in a few items that need to be ironed, and it steams the wrinkles right out of them. I'm in laundry heaven I tell you. The only thing that I can imagine that could make it even better would be if a little elf came in every week and did it all for me. I always believed that possessions couldn't bring happiness until I was introduced to these little beauties. They're bringing me some serious happiness.
My running shoes. I've decided that buying new running shoes every six months is considerably cheaper than therapy. And that is exactly what they are to me. Therapy. Really good therapy! I've been running since I was 13 years old, and this year it means even more to me. Why? I spent a few years being sick, and I remember the day I told Mike, "I'm not a runner anymore." I just took too much out of me physically to justify it's "mental" benefits. It was a sad day for me. It makes me cry to think about it. I honestly didn't think I'd ever run a considerable distance again. But this year I've been able to start running again. It's like I've reconnected with a good friend that I thought I'd lost forever. This year, I'm lovin' my running shoes, and it feels good.
Good friends. I have friends who've been there for me since Jr. High, friends strewn across the country from the many places I've lived, and friends in my own neighborhood who make my life on so much brighter on a daily basis. Women need other women. It's just the way it is. I'm grateful to have some absolutely amazing women in my life.
My sweetheart. He loves me, believes in me, and makes me laugh. Who could ask for more? Our first date was 15 years ago this month, and he hasn't been able to shake me since :).
The Gospel of Jesus Christ. With each passing year I realize more and more how little I actually know, how imperfect I am, and how completely dependent I am upon Him.

I have much to be grateful for - but these are a few of my favorites. Life is good.

The Power of a Woman

2008-12-09T16:23:00.007-07:00

This last week I've done a lot of thinking about the strength I see in the women I know. I have friends who are going through or still dealing with the effects of divorce, many facing what seem to be enormous financial struggles, another mourning the loss of her mother, and others who face the challenges of raising small children in a harsh and often unforgiving world.

It's made me think about the power that resides within every woman. You know what? They are strong. They are powerful. And there's a bunch of them who don't even know it. Now don't get me wrong, I know that men have incredible strengths as well, I just don't know that much about men other my own husband & the cute little 7 year old running around that looks just like him. I see their personal strengths on a daily basis, but other than them I'm pretty much clueless when it comes to men. But women I get. Being a woman kind of gives me an unfair advantage on this one.

The power within a woman differs from person to person, but it's there. You can feel it when you are around them. Do you know what I mean? You can honestly feel it when they are using their strength. Maybe that sounds weird, but for me it's true. It's power that can be seen or felt in their determination, kindness, and strong will. It's there in the smallest and most encompassing aspects of a women's life. It's there in the way she treats her children, her husband, her friends. So why am I writing about it, and for that matter thinking about it?

I believe so strongly in the power of women that I honestly know the power to change the world lies within them. This is the reason that the adversary (or whatever you want to call that stinkin' force that just wants to screw up the world) does everything within his power to keep women from seeing just how amazing they are. Get a woman to focus on anything other than what really matters in life, and you've got her. Get her to focus on having the perfect body, the perfect clothing, the perfect home, the perfect ANYTHING, and you get her to stop focusing on the stuff that really does matter. Her strength is lost. Get her to treat others with disdain and disrespect, and her power fades away. And in the process, you literally affect everyone around her.

So my question is, why in the world do we women seem to be so willing to turn over our God given power to anyone who wants to claim it? Why? I just don't get it. I guess it's easy for nearly everyone of us to say, "oh, it's because all the media does these days is focus on physical beauty." or "I've had a really hard life, and I just don't have control over this stuff" And all of that is true, but you want to know what I think? I think we hand it over to anyone else because we either don't have a clue how strong we are, or it's just easier to let it go.

My son came home today in tears. Since kindergarten he's been best buddies with two boys at school. They play together, have class together, and ride the bus together. Well, at the beginning of the year a new kid moved in. Nice kid by the way. BUT - only 3 kids can sit on the same seat on the bus. Guess who got kicked out of the "best buddy club"? My kid. I'm sure I don't have to tell you how hard it is to watch your own child confront something that painful. "Buck up" and "Make some new friends!" just don't seem to cut it. Crap, I've had friends do the same thing to me and I'm 37. It hurts a helluva lot let me tell you. After consoling him, I have to go somewhere else in the house to hide so I can cry. Honestly, it's breaking my heart. He's seven. He doesn't see his strength. He doesn't know how absolutely amazing he is. I'm trying my best to teach him, but this is life. And sometimes life stinks!

So why in the world am I sharing this story and talking about women? Because we do the same damn thing to each other ALL THE TIME!!! Some of us are so used to giving our own power away that we can't stand to see another woman be strong. Not only do we have to get rid of our own, we have to take everyone else down in the process. And I am sick of it! Did you hear that? SICK OF IT!

So ladies - gather together those women in your life who inspire you, and in the process you will inspire them. Get rid of the meanness, the cattyness, all of the crap that doesn't matter one little bit. Seriously, whatever your passion is in life, whether it is your job, your kids, your spouse, the environment, your faith, WHATEVER - just grab onto it and stand up for it. Make it important. Make it matter. Do not let anyone or anything take that power within you away.

Thank you to my girlfriends, my family, and the women out there who don't have a clue that I am watching, for inspiring me. Thank you for being strong. Thank you for showing me that the power of a woman is indeed immeasurable and everlasting.

There's always time for diet coke!

2008-12-03T17:12:00.001-07:00

ubersearch.: "
http://www.blogger.com/www.nataliedee.com"

A day in the life...

2008-12-03T15:08:00.008-07:00

I've been thinking about a really nice post that I wanted to do for my blog about all the things I'm thankful for. I even took pictures of my washer & dryer and running shoes for crying out loud! And everyone else was doing the whole "gratitude" thing on their blogs so I just wanted to join in. But, I can't figure out how to get the stupid pictures off of my camera and on to my blog. I think the entire photo importing process secretly changes everytime I attempt it. You would think after doing it a number of times that I wouldn't have to go to Mike for help - but I do. EVERY TIME.

So I'm giving up on the gratitude stuff for a day and writing about life. My life. Here goes...

Alarm goes off at 4:50 am. Seriously, 4:50 am! I STUMBLE into the bathroom to put on fifty million layers of clothes so I don't freeze my butt off while running with Chelsea. I was sick last week so I put in a total pansy run. TOTAL PANSY!!! I got my butt out of bed before the sun was up to run like a total pansy. Chelsea is awesome for giving me a little slack though.

6:00 am it's off to Winegars. Why in the world would I go to Winegars at 6am? To buy my daughter her poster board of course. I've known about the poster board since Monday, but did I buy it then? No. That would make too much sense. That would be too easy. So while I'm in Winegars I think to myself, I might as well buy a few other things that I need as long as I'm here. So I pile in the Marshmellow Matey's (better than the real thing btw), mandarin oranges, pancake mix and whatever else I can get my hands on. I pay the cashier, load the groceries in the car, and suddenly realize, I FORGOT THE POSTER BOARD!!! I seriously thought about how I could possibly send Kass to school without the poster board. Maybe the teacher really meant Thursday instead of Wednesday or maybe she'll have extras for the kids with slacker parents. Reluctantly, I head back in to buy the 65 cent poster board and put it on my credit card. I don't have any cash.

6:30 am and I'm trying to use my nice mommy voice and convince my children that they really DO want to climb out of their nice warm beds and head off to school. They don't seem to believe me. Finally, I end up telling each of them, "I swear, if you miss the bus again today you will have to pay me five dollars!". This time they listen - money seriously does talk! Then it's my version of the amazing race - make breakfast, pack lunches, make sure everyone's brushed teeth & hair, and has their homework, backpack, jacket. This race usually ends with me hollering, "I love you!" followed by "run guys! RUN! The bus is on its way!".

By this time my body is screaming, "must have more sleep!" while my mind is running a million miles a minute. How can I shower, clean the kitchen, and have the laundry folded, and read with Kaitlyn by the time I need to be at my hair appointment. I made a hair appointment for today after seeing a couple of photos of me taken last week. SCARY HAIR! Sadly, photos don't lie. I don't get it all done, but hey, I showered and read with Kaitlyn so the rest can wait.

11:00 am I arrive at a new hair salon, because they are the only ones who were able to fit me in at the last minute. And I couldn't wait another day. I haven't had my hair cut or colored for 6 months. It's time for some desperate measures. The gray hairs that I like to pretend are "highlights" are starting to make me look like a female Jay Leno. This is NOT a good thing! I describe to Heather, my 20 something "stylist" what I want in a hairstyle (ie. try to make me look like I actually HAVE a hairstyle and hide the gray hair please). She then proceeds to take 3 hours - 3 HOURS - to highlight and cut my hair. She is obviously not a mother of three children. She obviously does NOT understand that when you are a mom, every second you have without a child hanging on your leg is as precious as gold. She kept saying things like, "oh, I need to go mix up some more color" and "Let's just let that process a while", and "I'm going to need more foil". Once, I got so sick of waiting that I actually went looking for her. And I found her. Putting on her make-up! She was trying various shades of lipgloss from the display case in the salon, and had obviously added new eyeshadow and liner. I wanted to FREAK OUT! I wanted to say, "I'm wasting my child-free minutes waiting on you to find the right shade of lip gloss?". However, I was sane enough to realize that yelling at one's "stylist" is NOT a good idea BEFORE they take sharp scissors to your over processed hair.

2:00 pm I am livid, yes livid, over the fact that I cannot run to Costco as planned due to the insane hair appointment. No time. Kids are coming home. I run home to face the piles of dishes and laundry that I didn't conquer this morning. They are still there taunting me, so I sit down to commiserate and drink a diet coke. Hooray! There is always time for Diet Coke.

3 ish pm the kids come home and it's "how was your day?" and "hang up your jacket", and "how much homework do you have". The questions are followed by a snack and absolute chaos as we try to get everything done in the small amount of time allotted for these sorts of things. The dishes are still staring at me, so instead of tackling them, I sit down to write. Writing is good therapy, and the rates are cheap.

So the day isn't done, but I can tell you how it will end. A made rush to lessons, and friends, dinner, scriptures, Harry Potter, brushing teeth and prayers. Followed by a dash of "stay in bed" and "If you're so hungry, you should've eaten more at dinner". At the end of which I end up exhausted on the couch sitting next to that handsome man I married.

I may still be ticked at Heather for taking twice as long to do her job, but don't get me wrong, I realize that I do have a good life. A damn good life in fact. Thanks for listening, I feel much better :)

high school advice for my kids

2008-11-25T15:23:00.001-07:00

So I'm in the midst of planning my 20th reunion from high school, and I must admit I'm enjoying it even more than I thought I would. It certainly causes me stress, but the connections I've made with old friends, and even finding some new ones has been a blast! It's got me thinking about my own kids. They seem so far away from high school at the moment, but while I'm in the midst of walking down memory lane I thought I'd share some advice about high school with them. So here goes...

To my girls...

Be a loyal friend! Make tons of friends in high school, but above all else, be loyal to them. That way you will never regret the way in which you treated those precious friendships.

Find a couple of girlfriends that you know you can trust and KEEP THEM. Who knows, when you are nearing 40 you may have a few friends that have been there during the best & worst times of your life. They will know everything about you, and love you in spite of it all.

DON'T BE CATTY or MEAN!!!! For some reason, this is something that many girls, and sadly women, are like. You can't change this about others. Sometimes you will have to walk away from friendships for this very reason, but do not participate in it yourselves!

Don't be afraid to love. Yes, your heart will get broken, but it WILL heal, so let go of the fear and just love. The lessons you learn by loving in high school will help you to love more completely in marriage. Might sound silly now, but alas, it's very true.

Love does not equal physical intimacy. That means ANY physical intimacy. They are not the same thing. At some point, someone may try to make you think that they are. THEY AREN'T.

And while we're on the subject, physical intimacy in high school (and quite frankly before marriage) has limits. Very specific limits. Don't forget to tell the boys you date exactly what these limits are. This doesn't mean I don't want you to ever kiss a boy or hold his hand, just do not go beyond that. Period. And honestly, if you are going to kiss them, make sure you are both standing up. It's much more difficult to go beyond that while you are both standing up. :)

Take the time to find out who you are, what you believe, and what type of person you want to become. Learning more about yourself during high school will help you to make good choices today, rather than bad choices you'll regret later.

No matter how hard you try, there will always be choices you regret. Learn to forgive yourself and move on.

Get involved. In clubs, sports, student government, choir, WHATEVER interests you. Just get involved.

Do not, under any circumstances, drink alcohol or take any drugs of any kind. Sometimes it takes just once. I know from heart wrenching experience that drug & alcohol addiction can happen to "all american kids". Drug addiction destroys lives. It destroys families. It breaks hearts. It kills.

Work hard and play hard. Keep a balance between work and play, otherwise you'll graduate and think to yourself, "I wish I hadn't missed out on so much!".

Tell your mom what you're feeling and what you're up to, because I KNOW she'll want to hear about it.

To my little guy...

Ditto to everything I said to the girls, plus a few extras.

Open doors for your dates. Every. Time.

Be Strong. Not just physically, but spiritually, emotionally & socially.

ALWAYS, ALWAYS Stand up for yourself and others. Be a protector of what is right. It just takes one person to treat themselves and others this way for the rest to follow.

AVOID PORNOGRAPHY as if it were the plague!!!! It is. It will affect your life FOREVER if you don't. Sadly, this is not an exaggeration.

To all three of you...Your mom and dad do love you. They want you to be happy. They want to be involved in your lives. Please let them.

Happy Birthday Mike!

2008-11-22T12:40:00.010-07:00

Call me weird, but I love this photo. This is how Mike and I end up every night after we put the kids to bed. Side by side on the couch, watching tv, holding hands & playing footsie. Life is good!

Mike and I on one of our annual family trips to the pumpkin patch. Yes, he is texting. One of the good/bad things about owning your own business and using your blackberry as your office, it goes with you where ever you go. :)

Enjoying each other at a family party at Aunt June's house.

Snuggling with daddy before they're off to bed!

Caleb working on his swing with help from dad.

Happy Birthday to my sweet husband! He turns 37 today, so he is finally the same age as me for a couple of months before he can accuse me of robbing the cradle again. I love this man! He and I met while serving missions for our church in New England. He was one of the missionaries who took me to the airport to fly home when I was finished, and I knew then at the very least I wanted to marry someone exactly like him. I mean, how often do you find someone who is incredibly hard working and yearns for adventure at the same time? Not very often. I had dated enough in college to know, that's for sure. So why do I love him? First off, he loves that I'm crazy. How lucky am I? Second, he isn't perfect, and he sure as hell doesn't pretend to be. (side note - I'm trying to curb my cussing habit, but it's been difficult. It's just two cuss words that I use, that can't be too bad can it?). Sometimes as little girls, we often dream about the handsome prince that is going to come and carry us off to live happily ever after. Instead, I was lucky enough to find someone who is handsome, but wants to enjoy the journey with me rather than carry me through it. Believe me, after nearly 15 years of being together, he is still the man I absolutely and completely adore. Happy Birthday Mike!

Definitely NOT Politics as Usual

2008-11-19T20:06:00.014-07:00

It is 5:47 am after a morning run and I have 45 minutes to spare. Instead of sleeping or even showering I am blogging instead. I'm beginning to think that I may have a blogging problem. Is there a support group out there that I should know about? But, I have SERIOUSLY wanted to write about everything going on in my brain and heart since the election, but my last post consumed me for a while. Thank you, by the way, to everyone who read it and commented. Writing it made me feel incredibly vulnerable, but it was something that I knew I needed to do for my own sanity.

So, what about the rest of the election? Honestly, I found it to be quite amazing! I think I ended up crying at least 3 times while listening to various speeches. Now that I think about it, that's pretty sad. I mean who cries over someone's political speech? I guess I do. Sometimes watching politics play out is like watching a good movie for me. Sometimes it's a comedy that is funny as heck, sometimes a horror show and I'm afraid to even watch, and like this one, sometimes it's a really good drama. First off, let me say that things didn't exactly turn out the way I was hoping. I voted for the other guy. BUT, I am a realist and it was quite obvious that my guy was going to get blown out for quite a while now. And, since Presidential elections only come around every 4 years, I watched nearly every minute of both conventions (thank heavens for tivo) and soaked in McCain's concession along with Obama's acceptance speeches. Here are a few of the things that I loved about this Presidential election.

The nomination of Sarah Palin for the Republican VP. Okay, now time for a little more honesty, I didn't think she was the best choice. I know, I know, I got all fired up on this very blog due to the way she was being treated by feminists. And believe me, I was fired up! That post had to do with FEMINISM, not with being the Vice President of the United States. In my gut I just don't think it was a wise choice. In all honesty, I was rooting for Lieberman (no, not Mitt, because as I said, I'm a realist when it comes to politics, and the religious bigotry issue is still a major issue). When I heard that she was going to get the Republican VP nod I kind-of cringed inside. I think she has serious potential in the Republican party, but was thrown into the thick of things a little to soon. Needless to say, I was very curious to hear her nomination acceptance speech. As I sat on my couch and watched as she was introduced at the National Republican Convention the tears started rolling down my cheeks. Maybe I've been a little crazy since childhood, but my childhood dream was to become President, before I realized that women in this country just don't "become president". Watching the first woman being added to a Republican national ticket was pretty darn awesome, whether I felt she was the best choice or not. As I listened to her, I thought to myself, "this woman is a spit-fire!", and sometimes there's nothing like watching a strong woman go out and kick some butt - no matter what side of the political isle she is on, or whether you would vote for her or not. She and Hillary Clinton made it possible for little girls all over our country to dream about becoming president without our sometimes idiotic system knocking the wind out of their sails.

It wasn't long before I was crying again - just the next night in fact during John McCain's speech. Listening to him describe his captivity while serving our country was gut wrenching to say the least. To hear him describe how upon receiving his freedom his life was no longer his own, but belonged to his beloved country was inspiring. Then he did something I will never forget. He passionately implored each of us to "Stand up and fight" with him for the that very country. Anyone who has watched John McCain speak knows that "passion" is usually the last word you could use to describe it. However, this night I saw something that is rarely seen in politics, raw and honest emotion. There was no doubting that he would do anything for his country.

I watched Barack Obama's speech at the Democratic National Convention hoping to be swept off my feet, but only ended up thinking to myself, "I wish I could believe you man". I'm a lower taxes, smaller government, stay out of my way and let me succeed type of gal. I'm also a big believer in "sharing the wealth" philosophy, but I want to determine who to share it with and how to share it. But despite our political differences, his acceptance speech the night of the election did not disappoint! It was a surreal feeling, watching the first African American being elected to our nation's highest office. The only thing I can really compare it to from my own life experience, is watching the Berlin Wall being torn down in 1989. Both were something as Americans we had always dreamed of, but didn't know whether or not we'd live to see happen. The humility and resolve in his voice and words that night are truly something I hope I can believe in. I hope that he has an amazingly successful first term as President of the United States. Why? Not because of his gender, political party, or the color of his skin, but because this is America - and I hope to always see her rise above any challenges that lie in her way. I hope that we are better off fours years from now than we are today. I hope that in four years I'll be running to the polls to vote for Barack Obama because of what he has done for our country. Only time will tell.

Why and What I Believe

2008-11-14T21:03:00.006-07:00

I’ll be honest; I’ve always believed that one’s religion and faith is something to be ingrained into the heart and soul of the believer, not onto their sleeve for the masses to view. My religious faith is at the very center of who and what I am. I am certainly not perfect at practicing it, but that is what makes faith so amazing.

So why am I now writing about what I believe and why I believe it? It’s a long story but I will try desperately to sum it all up. In a nutshell, it’s the state of California’s vote on Proposition 8. The vigorous way in which my church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (or Mormons), sought to ensure that Proposition 8 passed has opened it up to vicious attacks on individuals, businesses, and the church in general. I have no problem with the peaceful protests. To be honest, they make me proud of the country that I live in and love. I certainly don’t agree with everyone in this world, why would I expect everyone to agree with me? In fact, I think that a civil discourse about our nations’ differences is healthy and necessary. However, when homes & churches are being severely vandalized, families are forced from their homes, and people become targets of violent attacks, then sitting quietly in my peaceful home is no longer an option.

Rather than fighting fire with fire, and hatred with anger, the only thing I can do as a Christian is explain what and why I believe. My intent is absolutely not to convert or convince the reader, but simply to explain WHY Mormons worked so diligently for the passage of Proposition 8. Then maybe, just maybe, the community we have so obviously offended will offer us the same “tolerance” they fought for these many years.

I am a practicing member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, often referred to as “Mormons”. Having been born and raised in Bountiful, Utah it would be easy to assume that this faith was pounded into my head from birth until I no longer had any choice but to believe. However, this couldn’t be farther from the truth. I grew up in a family that didn’t actively participate in any religious activities. I was taught that there was a God, and that I was His child, and quite frankly that was all that mattered at the time. I was baptized at the age of 8, but had absolutely no understanding as to what this meant.

At the age of 6, my parents divorced. For a young girl, my world as I had known it seemed to crumble around me. What on earth could I believe in if it wasn’t that my mom and dad would always love one another? If their love could die, was there anything out there that could possibly remain true forever? I obviously didn’t realize it at the time, but this began my quest for truth. My desire to find something that was constant, absolute, and never changing.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I became pretty serious about my “search for truth”. I had a lot of crazy friends at the time (wonderful, yet crazy) and I started to think, “Why am I trying so hard to be good, when all the while I just seem to be missing out on a lot of fun”. I decided to study religion, and if I didn’t find what I was looking for, then to hell with it all – I was going to join in on the craziness. What happened next was completely unexpected. I remember distinctly going up to my bedroom and locking my bedroom door so I could kneel by my bed and pray. Heaven forbid that someone actually find me praying! It certainly was not something I was used to or comfortable doing. After talking to a number of adults that I trusted, I had started reading the Book of Mormon. A book revered as scripture along with the Bible by those of the Mormon faith. I honestly wanted to plead with God to know if it really was what it claimed to be, “Another Testament of Jesus Christ”. I don’t know if I expected to get an answer or not, but in my heart of hearts I know I got one. This was the moment that my life changed; the first moment I knew what I was reading was true.

Since that day I have done my best to live in accordance with what I believe to be true. And what does this mean exactly? It means that I believe I am a daughter of God, that He knows me and loves me unconditionally, just as He does every human being who has ever lived on this earth regardless of their faith, gender, ethnicity, or any other characteristic that make each of us unique. I also believe that God reveals His will to His people through His prophets. These prophets include those from the Old Testament such as Adam, Abraham, and Moses. They also include what we consider to be “Latter-day” prophets who continue to live on the earth today. The man who I believe to be the Lord’s prophet on the earth today is Thomas S. Monson. He is also the President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Since I believe these men to be prophets of God, it is vitally important to my faith that I listen to what they say, and pray to know that it is right. Contrary to popular belief, we are not simply “brainwashed” into believing whatever our prophet says. We are strongly encouraged to always listen to his words, ponder them in our hearts, and then pray to know of their truthfulness.

In 1995, the prophet and President of our church introduced a statement to the entire membership that is now considered to be sacred truth. It is titled, “The Family: A Proclamation to the World”. It begins by stating, “We, the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, solemnly proclaim that marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God and that family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children. All human beings - male and female - are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny." The entire document is a powerful affirmation of what God expects of His children regarding their family relationships while they are on this earth. Literally millions of Latter-day Saints read and re-read this statement and prayed to know if it truly was from God. As the membership of the Lord’s church, we accepted it as such.

Little did we know that in 13 short years our belief in this document would be severely tested. With the introduction of Proposition 8 to the ballot in California this year, it surely was. The leadership of our church asked members, especially those in California, to contribute their time, money and talents into making sure that Proposition 8 passed. Did they issue it as a requirement for continued membership in the church? Absolutely not. President Monson did tell us that one of his roles as a prophet of God was to act as a “watchman on a tower”, and that though we may not see the importance of the proposition passing at this time, the Lord certainly did. I have no doubt that hundreds of thousands of members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in California did exactly what we have always been asked to do. They considered the statement of the prophet, and prayed for direction from the Lord. It is certain that not every member of the church in California voted in favor of Proposition 8. For those who did, I am positive their decision was not based on bigotry and intolerance, but instead on a desire to follow their spiritual leader’s counsel.

With the membership of the Mormon Church making up only 2% of the population in California, and 52% of the entire Californian population voting in favor of Proposition 8, I continue to ask myself why is it that Mormons seem to have taken the brunt of the vicious attacks by recent protestors? The only conclusion I can come to is that for some reason, in this supposedly “progressive” and “tolerant” nation of ours, it is still socially acceptable to rage against the Mormon’s. After all, we are a peculiar people. We have traditions and beliefs that make us stand out even among other Christian faiths. However, we do have the courage and determination to stand firm against accusations that we are somehow prejudiced against homosexuals and others who choose to pursue an alternative lifestyle. How can we do this? Because we know what we believe and why we believe it. We are following the counsel of a man whom we believe to be a prophet of God, nothing more and nothing less. We believe that every single person on this earth, regardless of their beliefs, is a child of God. At the same time, we also believe marriage to be a sacred institution. To those who preach or espouse violence against us for adhering to our religious beliefs, I ask you to please consider if maybe, just maybe, we Mormons are simply doing what we consider to be tolerant and faithful at the same time.

Kristen Ricks

Man, I love this little guy!

2008-11-03T20:18:00.008-07:00

Okay, so my son Caleb is a little too much like his mom when it comes to loving and needing sleep. This makes it very difficult to get him out of bed in the mornings for school. The school bus comes at 7:30 am, which means I wake the kids at 6:30 am. It usually takes Caleb at least 2 times of being "officially woken up" before he can actually function and get his clothes on. It's when I have to trudge up the stairs 3 or 4 times that I really begin to loose my patience.

This morning I sent Kassidy back up stairs for me to see if Caleb was out of bed and getting dressed yet, while I manned the Cinderella waffle maker. And surprise, surprise, he was still sleeping. So I started a new waffle and hustled upstairs to push and prod my seven year old stinker into waking up. I was NOT HAPPY when I entered his room, so I was prepared to use my "mean mommy" voice and demand that he GET OUT OF BED!!! But as I turned him over to give him a little talking to I noticed a tiny yellow paper airplane laying on the bed beside him. I picked it up, it was quite intricate as far as paper airplanes go, and noticed that he had written something on it. I quietly opened the airplane, praying that I would somehow know how to refold it when I was done, and read the words he had written. This is what it said:

To: Dad
Your the best. I love you dad.
And you are realy silly.
I love you dad. The end.
From: Caleb

He looked at me with his sleepy little eyes and said, "that's why I'm so tired mom, I stayed up late making that paper airplane". There was no "mean mommy" voice left in me. How could there be? He had stayed up late writing his daddy a note and making him a paper airplane. My heart literally melted on the spot, and I just had to hug him. Then I proceeded to help him get dressed in record time before I burnt the next Cinderella waffle. Man, I love this little guy!

Here he is gettin down at the Jazz game last Saturday night. You'll have to tilt your head to the side, as the mom videotaping still doesn't have much to speak of in the tech skills department.

Apparently I've been tagged ...

2008-11-02T16:28:00.007-07:00

5 things I was doing 10 years ago ...

1. I was living in Northern Virginia with my husband and 2 1/2 month old baby girl.
2. Wondering, "Will I ever get enough sleep again in my entire life?"
3. Wondering, "How come everyone makes this mommy thing look so easy, and I'm just not getting it?"
4. Wondering, "Will I ever feel normal again?"
5. Obviously doing a lot of wondering in my sleep deprived state. I must have been absent that day in school when some competent adult explained how INCREDIBLY HARD being a parent is. I mean, seriously, they wouldn't just send me off completely unprepared for this insane adventure they call parenthood would they?

5 things on today's "to do" list...

1. Get an extra hour of sleep! Man, I LOVE the end of Daylight Savings Time for this very reason. (DONE!)
2. Go to church, and try to gain some spiritual insight into my life without falling asleep or yelling at my kids. (DID MY BEST!)
3. Clean my laundryroom. I kind of threw everything in there for my Halloween Party the other night so my home would "appear" clean. Today I had to pay the piper for that one. (DONE!)
4. Watch "Journey to the Center of the Earth" with my family. (DONE! this was totally fun, and we ate tons of Halloween candy at the same time. Wahoo!)
5. Snuggle with Mike. (Still lookin' forward to this one!)

5 snacks I enjoy...

1. Really good icecream (Dreyers/Edy's happens to be my favorite)
2. Tortilla chips and homemade salsa. (I'm starting to drool just thinking about it)
3. Costco's chocolate cake (the round one with chocolate shavings on top). YUM!
4. 3 Musketeer's candybar. Also YUM!
5. My mother-in-laws homemade sweetrolls! DOUBLE YUM!

5 things I would do if I were a millionaire...

1. Hire a housekeeper to clean my house EVERY DAY and do my laundry for me EVERY WEEK!
2. Hire a chef to cook all of my and my families meals.
3. Buy a houseboat & ski boat and leave them at Lake Powell. Spend LOADS of time there!
4. TRAVEL!!!!! Everywhere and anywhere.
5. Share it with those I love.

5 places I have lived...

1. Utah (Go Beehive state)
2. New Hampshire (Live Free or Die! I love that slogan!)
3. Vermont (Nothing like Autumn in the Green Mountain State. Sigh...)
4. Virginia (They aren't kidding, Virginia truly is for lovers. wink wink.)
5. North Carolina (In my mind I'm goin' to Carolina - miss that place)

5 jobs that I have had...

1. Subway Sandwich builder (high school)
2. MTC Teacher/Supervisor (college)
3. 8th grade history teacher (intern for 1 year)
4. Political Fundraiser (fresh out of college and still an idealist)
5. The best one ever that only offers "on the job training" - Mommy!

Rules: Each player answers the question themselves. At the end of the post the player then tags 5 people and posts their names, Let the person that tagged you know when you've answered the questions on your blog.

Okay, so I don't know if I even have 5 people who read my blog. So if you are reading this, consider yourself tagged!

Our Annual "Frank & Stein"

2008-11-01T22:58:00.003-06:00

Kassidy, Kaitlyn & their cute neighborhood friends!!

My Mom & Kami as the Pink Ladies (I was one too, but someone had to take this cute picture)

Kassidy (a ghost from the 1800's), Caleb (Star Wars Clone Captain) & Kaitlyn (Dorthy)

Around our house we love to celebrate nearly everything, but we especially love to celebrate birthdays, the 4th of July, Christmas & Halloween. I think it has to do with the fact that these are my FAVORITE - and as the mom - I get to decide when & how to celebrate most of these things. I must say, this is one of the very cool benefits of being the mom :). So every year since moving to North Salt Lake we have held our own version of Halloween fun. It's called the "Frank & Stein" and it is always held the evening of Halloween. We buy yummy hotdogs from Costco & I wrap smaller hots dogs in Rhodes dinner rolls to create hotdog mummies, which happen to be very spooktaculer I might add! We also serve homemade rootbeer in frosted mugs (our makeshift "steins"). It's all very casual, and our friends come and celebrate with us before heading out to go trick-or-treating. Needless to say, it was once again a very, very

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Will I ever get it together?

2008-10-23T21:16:00.003-06:00

Today I told my friend Marianne that I'd pick up her daughter from school along with Kaitlyn since I would be driving them along with 2 other 5 year olds to dance. No problem right? So I go about my day doing all of the mom stuff that fills up every day, and as I send Kaitlyn off to kindergarten I think to myself "a nap would be perfect right now" especially since I was yawning every 30 seconds. What do I do? I set my alarm so I will wake up in 1 hour and have plenty of time to shake out the cobwebs before driving down to get the girls. I even put the phone beside me on the bed with the ringer on low in case someone calls (the "mom, I just threw up" calls always seem to come during a nap). Then I curl up on the bed, having been so responsible in making sure that I won't sleep the day away.

The next thing I know, I'm looking at my little alarm clock that I'm holding in my hand for some strange reason and it says it's 2:54 pm. My first thought is that my clock is obviously NOT working because I set the alarm for 1:30 pm and I hadn't heard it yet. That's when it hits me - the alarm is in my hand because I turned it off in my coma like sleep. 2:54 pm? School gets out at 2:50 pm, so I have 2 kindergartners who are either on the bus when they shouldn't be, or they are crying their eyes out wondering why Kaitlyn's mommy didn't show up. This is when I run around the house looking for the phone, mumbling words that I know I shouldn't say (hello! didn't I put the phone right beside me on the bed? Why am I wasting time running around looking for the stinkin phone?).

I finally get a hold of Marianne and the school and explain my complete LACK of responsibility. They help me pick up the pieces like good friends do, and we actually make it to dance on time. Just when I think I might possibly be getting it together - life throws me a curve ball and I'm not even standing in the batter's box. Sigh...maybe someday it'll happen, but that day obviously is not today.

Treadmills are a necessary evil

2008-10-22T21:47:00.002-06:00

The time has finally come when I trudge downstairs to my treadmill at 5 am instead of running outside. It saves my lungs from the freezing and often smoggy Salt Lake air, but it sure does come at a cost. One of my favorite things about running is the simplicity of it all. I run to a certain spot, then I turn around and run home. That's pretty much it. When I'm alone I just think my crazy, jumbled up thoughts and sing silently along with my ipod. Lately, I've been lucky enough to run with Maureen, and we get to talk about family, politics, the crazy economy, and anything else that might seem important at the moment.

But on the treadmill it's a different story. There are numbers blaring out at me know matter how hard I try to ignore them. Numbers relating how fast I'm running, how far I've gone, how many calories I've burned, and if I really feel like it, what my heart rate is. And even though Maureen meets me in my basement at 5:10 (I certainly wouldn't get up at that insane hour if I didn't know she would be counting on me to be there) we can't discuss much over the monotonously loud hum of the treadmill. It's kind of like eating fat free icecream - It gets the job done but isn't ANYTHING like the real thing. It's a means to an end, a necessary evil.

We are as the Army of Helaman

2008-10-11T19:47:00.009-06:00

Sometimes watching my kids go through the tough lessons of life is a painful thing. Sometimes, friends can be mean, bullies abound, and homework is tough. Sometimes we aren't in the "in" crowd, or we don't feel a part of any crowd. Sometimes we have to do things over and over again, and we still never seem to get them right. With all of the things that seem to shift with the wind in a child's life, I suddenly felt an enormous need to teach my children that some things are constant. No passing fad, shifting view, or changing opinions have an impact on whether or not these things are important.

So we read from the Book of Mormon about the Army of Helaman, yes those 2,000 strippling warriors who fought for the cause of freedom with such strength, bravery and faith that not one of them died in battle. All of the them were wounded mind you, but not one of them died. "How amazing is that" I asked them. They seemed to be quite impressed, but then I told them, "do you know that you can be just like Helaman's Warriors?", which they didn't seem to completely believe. Caleb struck a fabulous fighter pose, and asked, "Can I wear a knife in my sleeve?". I had to explain that this was not the kind of warrior I was talking about. I meant that they could be like "Helaman's Warriors" by surviving life's daily battles with their heads held high. Wounds are inevitable, but our integrity can and should stay intact.

We decided that Helaman's Warriors were true to 3 very important things: their God, themselves, and their family. When it comes right down to it, nothing else matters very much if you don't have those three things.

Just today Caleb came home from school and told me of an experience he had standing up for himself to a bully on the bus. We celebrated with a hug & high five. Way to go my little warrior!

Girls Night Out

2008-10-11T19:36:00.004-06:00

It started with yummy Italian food, and then after a crazed search for parking, we were off to the main event. The main event? The Reba & Kelly Clarkson concert at the Energy Solutions Arena. The girls on a night out? Me, my mom, Kami, her friend Tonya, and Kassidy. After a frantic rush to our seats (3rd row dead center I might add) we barely had time to catch our breath before the concert began. I don't remember what they sang first, but man alive, those ladies can sing! And they sang for 2 hours straight, and of course we danced & sang right along with them. That is except for mom who certainly can't stand that long, and Kassidy who fell asleep halfway into the concert. But when she was awake, she did me proud! Dancing and singing along with the best of them. What an amazing, giddy, glorious girls night out!

Just a tad neurotic

2008-10-03T10:42:00.004-06:00

For some crazy reason, I have to have a full glass of water beside my bed in order to go to sleep at night. Two-thirds full or even three-fourths full just doesn't cut it. So last night I had my glass of water at my sink as I was brushing my teeth. Mike came over to take medicine for his headache using MY glass of water, and then stood patiently behind me as I finished. I looked at him in the mirror and asked "So, are you just waiting to see if I'll fill it up again?" He laughed and nodded yes, and then I proceeded to fill up my glass of water to the very top. As he turned to go into the bedroom he said, "That's why I love you baby, you are completely comfortable with your neuroticism". Touche' and I just gotta love him back!

5 am comes mighty early

2008-10-01T13:56:00.002-06:00

I have a couple of girlfriends that I workout with in the mornings. Now, I'm pretty obsessive when it comes to getting enough sleep, so for the past few weeks I've been thinking about why in the world I roll my hiney (spelling doesn't count on blogs does it?) out of bed at 5 am every morning. I mean, it is pitch black, I'm nearly delirious, and everyone else in my home is still snug in their beds sleeping. I know that I do it because it makes me feel strong and all that...but, I've concluded that if I'm really honest with myself, I do it because it is one of the ONLY things that I do in this life that is just for me. Sometimes I think as we become husbands & wives, moms & dads, employees, employers, and followers of our faith, we can easily forget to spend quality time just on ourselves. Five o'clock in the morning has become that little piece of heaven that I have carved out just for me. As exhausting as it may be, dang it sure feels good!

Our week was exciting because...

2008-09-27T10:48:00.010-06:00

2 teeth were lost! Caleb lost one of his two front teeth while playing with classmates on his field trip. This was a good thing, as it was so loose that it was literally pointing straight out (No lie!). He still hasn't put it under his pillow, but is saving it in his sock drawer. I had to convince him that the tooth fairy will only come and take it if it is under his pillow. Right now he just thinks it is too cool looking to part with. Kaitlyn lost her first tooth EVER while she was in kindergarten. She cried at first because it scared her, but then was excited to be getting so big. She placed it under her pillow as soon as she got home from school as the prospect of money is much more exciting to her than a cool looking tooth.

I bottled peaches! No that is not a misprint - I seriously bottled peaches & peach jam - and I seriously loved it! This was my first time bottling anything, as I made a promise to myself when I was young that I would never bottle anything. Don't ask why as it is a complicated answer, but oh the naivete of youth. I'm finally learning to never promise myself that I will never do something based on ideas that I honestly know little about (buying the minivan starting breaking me in to this new doctrine of "never saying never", as I had also once swore that I would never own a minivan). Needless to say, oh the practicality of adulthood. I must also say that I did it with 2 of the greatest girlfriends. We had such a fabulous time. Chelsea & Maureen - you both rock!

Kassidy and I went for our first run together! How cool is that? Hopefully it will become a regular activity. I told her that running is such a great thing to do together, because we can do it together for years to come. "That is until you are old and get arthritis" she told me. Very true, yet not something I enjoy being reminded of.

With the economic chaos swirling around these days, I just thought it would be nice to think about the simple things that make life good.

September 24th

2008-09-24T12:00:00.004-06:00

My little sister will probably want to kick me for putting this here, but she says things so well that I had to do it. My mom married Lynn Balmforth when I was seven years old. The next year they gave me the best little sister ever - Kami Balmforth. If you know her, then you know why I say that. She is strong, smart, talented, and down right hilarious. Lynn died right before Easter in 2000. Though it's been over 8 years, it still hurts like hell. One of the hardest parts about him being gone is watching my mom and sweet little sister without him. It hurts when people you love die, and it hurts even more watching people you love live on without them. So here is a little tribute from Kami to her dad, and I just had to share it. Kami, I love you! Just an explanation to those who didn't know Lynn, he collected pennies. Jars and JARS of pennies.

september 24th...

i don't like to reminisce about my dad. he's dead, i miss him, yada yada yada. i don't like to end up in a sobbing mess. i don't like it when my mom cries. i don't like to be out of control. but a few things have happened recently so he's been on my mind quite a bit, way more than i prefer. so obviously i need to purge. this summer mom and i tried to kill two birds with one stone by visiting dad's grave and then traveling to bear lake. don't try that, because it takes you about a bazillion hours in the wrong direction and then you just end up pissy and not really in the mood to memorialize a loved one. we got to the cemetery and went to stand by the headstone. it's actually a pretty cool little cemetery out in the middle of nowhere. although at night, i bet it's totally creepy. mom is good not to make me stay for very long. there really isn't much you can do there. but as we were getting in the car, i noticed that there was a penny on my seat. it wasn't there before, the car was clean. i don't usually indulge in beliefs beyond what i can see, but i like to think it was his way of saying hello and that he's at least aware that he left us too quickly.

my uncle also found some video clips of him singing at family parties and such. i have mixed feelings about that. i had forgotten what his voice sounded like. i had forgotten what it was like to hang out with my dad. i'm grateful to have the memento, but it doesn't feel good. i still don't know about that.

i miss my dad terribly. i miss the way he would tickle my chin when he got home from work. i miss the way he would poke his head into my room at night and say, "i sure love you." i miss his pocket protector and how my face would smush into it when he hugged me. i miss the suspenders. i miss how he smelled. i miss the way my cats always loved him more than they loved me. i miss the way he would file things. whatever he could find, as long as it could be put into a manila folder (with a typed label of course) and filed, it was worth something. who knows, you may need that all important article on UFO's in the near future.

i'm angry that i never really got to have a grown up conversation with him or ask him certain questions. even if he had to make up the answer, he'd still have one. i'm angry that he told me that everything was going to be fine. even though he was hard to live with, i still wish he was here. tomorrow is my dad's birthday. he would have been 75 years old. three quarters of a century with more experience and wisdom than i can imagine at 29. i suppose that's why it's bugging me so much this year. 75 is a milestone. dad and mom would have been married 30 years this year. so many things that i feel like i should have been able to share with my parents. i would have bought him some kind of awesome tie and a shirt because he never bought anything for himself. he would have pretended that he didn't want a party, but would be in the middle of it all if we threw him one. he would break out the old spice for the special occasion. he would play the guitar. he was good at that.

A few things I've just got to say

2008-09-21T22:46:00.002-06:00

So, I've been a political junkie since High School, and various aspects of this Presidential Election have been like a dream come true for me. Now with the nomination of Sarah Palin to the VP position on the Republican ticket, there are a few things that I just have to get off my chest. I am absolutely sick and tired of the "feminist establishment" out there telling me that because I happen to be a stay-at-home mom and pro-life that I am somehow NOT a feminist. They are now employing the same techniques to discredit my belief system that they themselves fought against for nearly 40 years. I am grateful to those strong women who have gone before me clearing the way for choices and freedoms I now enjoy that women before me would never have dreamed were possible. I happen to be incredibly lucky to have 2 amazing women as my mom and step-mom who helped me to believe that I could do anything and achieve anything. So, let me set the record straight with the "feminist establishment" (not that they would actually read this, but it sure does make me feel better). I am INDEED a feminist. To be more specific, I would consider myself to be a Cultural Feminist, meaning that I believe men and women are intrinsically different, but these differences and their contributions to society should be valued equally. So to Sarah Palin I say, you go girl! And to the so called establishment I say, take a look at the strong women I am priviledged to know who are raising sons to respect and revere womanhood, and daughters to embrace and be empowered by their womanhood, and you will have a glimpse of how these woman are literally changing the world in a way that your ranting, raving & protesting never will. Yes, these are the women who are changing the world, and I am proud to among them

Teton Valley Rocks!

2008-09-09T10:16:00.004-06:00

We went up to visit Mike's parents this weekend. It had been way too long since our last visit, so all 5 of us were mighty excited to get to Grandma & Grandpa Ricks' house at the base of the Teton Mountains. Before I married Mike, my exposure to Idaho had pretty much been limited to the Pocatello area, which I didn't find all that exciting (sorry to all you Pocatello fans). I remember the first time I visited Mike's childhood home in Driggs, Idaho. We got there around midnight so I had no idea how incredibly BEAUTIFUL it was until I woke up the next morning. For those of you who have never been to Teton Valley - it is absolutely amazing. The beauty of the mountains surrounded by rolling farms and small towns is the best stress reliever that I have ever found. Mike and I joke that even the clocks run slower there. It has become as dear to my heart as my own hometown, and now I get to watch my children take advantage of all that it has to offer. For the entire weekend they filled their days with throwing rocks, riding horses with their Uncle Tim, and "swimming" in Grandma & Grandpa's hot tub. It is a beautiful, serene, and simple place. Visiting has always helped me to look at my life from a new perspective, and I always leave with a strong desire to SIMPLIFY! If you haven't been there, boy are you missing out!

First Day of Kindergarten

2008-08-25T20:33:00.003-06:00

Today I sent my baby off to kindergarten. I couldn't decide whether to cry or giggle uncontrollably - so I just stared blankly at the school doors after walking her inside. What did I do with my four hours of complete, independent freedom? First things first, I went to lunch at the Paradise Bakery with my mom. (I must say that their crumbly blue cheese salad IS paradise!) Then it was off to Costco with no children in tow, and after putting away the groceries I took a nap. Yes, let me repeat that, I TOOK A NAP!! I did all of that while Kaitlyn was in kindergarten. No wonder I wanted to giggle uncontrollably - it's been 10 years since I've had that kind of freedom. I woke up from my nap as the bus was driving around the neighborhood dropping off children from school. I ran to the front porch and waited anxiously for Kaitlyn. I saw her come around the corner holding hands with her big sister in that cute little uniform, and what did I do? I started to cry.

Enough with the Chaos already!

2008-08-17T18:57:00.000-06:00

School starts this week. I'm torn because I love being with my kids during the summer. NOTHING beats the combination of sunshine, laziness & giggling. But I can only handle the chaos summer brings for so long. Do you know what I mean? I started out the summer so organized with chore charts, summer homework and clipboards. About 3 weeks into it is when I feel myself submitting to the craziness - telling myself to just enjoy these summer moments and to go with the flow. For the "Type A" person that I am, it takes enormous mental effort to just go with the flow. Pretty sad, but still true. So by the end of the summer when absolutely everything that can possible be messy and cluttered in my house is now messy and cluttered I begin to worry a tad bit about my sanity. Seriously, I can barely make my way through my kids rooms, the playroom, and the garage. So I'm doing my best to not be running around like a crazy woman shouting, "enough with the chaos already!" I keep reminding myself that in a few weeks I will have the time to clean, organize, and straighten, and it honestly isn't going to kill me if I just let it go for now. Sometimes I just have a hard time believing. So I'm going to take a deep breath and keep trying to go with the flow.

The Most Miserable Joy

2008-08-15T20:48:00.001-06:00

Okay, so Kassidy turned 10 years old this week and will be going into 5th grade. This is really freaking me out!!! I VIVIDLY remember 5th grade - I honestly thought that I was so old, and now that's how old my little girl is. Yesterday she came to me with tears in her eyes and she said, "Mom, I just feel so sad today and I don't know why." I almost said, welcome to the emotions of womanhood honey. But instead I just hugged her and we talked about it.

To celebrate her birthday, Kassidy and I took a special trip to Chicago. Yes, I'm a little crazy with the birthday thing, but I so wanted to take her to the American Girl Place and I knew that her interest in American Girl dolls wasn't going to last forever. So I spent 4 days just hanging out with my little Kassidy. We shopped (boy did we ever shop), we got room service, we ate tons of pancakes and pizza, and yes - we spent countless hours in the American Doll Place. She's my first, the one that taught me how amazing motherhood could be. Also, the one who offered me her unconditional love as I figured out what type of mother I wanted to be. I never knew that I would love being a mom this much, that I would love these three little people in a way that I could never have imagined. As I watch Kassidy grow (and Caleb & Kaitlyn), I feel like my heart is going to burst with pride, love, and sadness because it is going so quickly. As my mom says, it's, "the most miserable joy". It truly is.

Why the Rockin Ricks?

2008-08-05T21:10:00.000-06:00

My cute children love to name things: their stuffed animals, paper towels (no kidding), and our cars. So I thought it was pretty cute when one day this summer, Caleb decided that we should be called the rockin ricks. All three kids agreed that was the perfect name for our family and I just had to grin. After all, I always holler "rock -n- roll, let's go!" when it's time for the kids to hop into the lovely family minivan (which is named "Princess" by the way). We listen to "We Will Rock You" at the start of any family adventure, such a trip to the lake or a museum. And ultimately, they've been subjected to many fine musical artitists such as ABBA, Queen, Def Leppard, Bon Jovi, and yes even some AC/DC since birth. In fact, when Kaitlyn was 2 years old, she and I were driving around town and I turned on a country radio station. She immediately hollered, "No Mommy! I want Rock -n- Roll!" That's my girl! So the rockin ricks has stuck, for the summer at least. I hope it's here to stay, because it will always remind me of their sweet innocence!

Grandma Kathy turns 66!

2008-07-31T09:30:00.000-06:00

My cute mom had her 66th birthday this week. In honor of that amazing little lady (she's shrinking - the doctor even confirmed it), I thought I'd write 6 things that my mom taught me that have helped me throughout this crazy adventure we call life.

No - my legs are NOT painted on! This was a phrase she used to throw at us when we were little and wanted to be lazy and make her do all of the work. Translation - you have legs that work so get up and use them. Use them to work hard, play hard and pray hard and you'll be at peace with who you are.

"Polyester Bendovers" work just fine! Ok, these were the pants my mom used to wear to work because she was in sales. She used to sell CANDY!! How cool is that when you are growing up. Anyway, her job required a lot of building displays and hauling candy and materials around and her polyester bendover pants (with the elastic waste) worked out just perfectly. Translation - It doesn't matter what brand of clothing you wear, what you drive, or where you live, it's what's inside of you that counts!

Honey, we're rich, we just don't have any money! Richness in life comes from what you make with the relationships you have, NOT by how much money you make. No translation needed on that one :).

She (or he) is doing the best that she can with the tools that she has! This one used to and still does gets repeated all of the time, and now I even find myself repeating it in my own mind. Translation - we need to be patient, understanding, and kind with one another. You never know what someone else is dealing with, and they usually are doing the best that they can. This one is still hard for me to remember sometimes. Sorry mom, I'll keep working on it.

Diet Coke runs rule! While I was growing up we used to make a run to the local Maverick (convenience store) ATLEAST once a week to get a diet coke together. We even had our own special orange "Mav Mugs" that we could wash at home and refill for 25 cents on our next diet coke run. We still do these to this day and I LOVE them! Translation - sometimes you just need a break, someone to talk to, cry with or laugh with. Who better than your own mom?

Laughter is the BEST Medicine! Anyone who knows my mom and has heard her laugh understands what I mean by this one, so no translation is needed here either!

Thanks mom! Happy Birthday!

Washing Windows

2008-07-18T23:13:00.000-06:00

I've been waiting for over a week now to receive some manifestation of what I should blog about. What in the world am I supposed to be writing here anyway? No such manifestation has been received so I'm just going to have to wing it. Here I go: Yesterday, a man knocked on my front door and asked if I would like to have the windows in my house cleaned. "Absolutely" I replied, I mean, who doesn't like clean windows? So after agreeing upon a reasonable price, he and his three employees went to work. It had been two years since I last had my windows cleaned, and the debris accumulated on all of these glass panes throughout my home was quite astonishing, and definitely disgusting. When they finished I couldn't get over how beautiful it was to see the outside world without all of the water marks, dust, and scum marring my view. For the first time in a long time, I could see! Last night as I was walking through my living room I actually took time to gaze out at the stars and the gorgeous full moon, all shining brightly through my pristine windows. As I went to bed contemplating the difference a clean window can make, I thought, "Wow, if only I could clean my mind's eye view of the world the way these men cleaned my windows". If only I could wipe away the cob webs, dust and scum that clutter my heart and mind as easily. If only I had an internal source of soap and a squeegee that would always allow me to see the beauty and majesty that exists within the walls of my own home no matter the circumstances. If only...

Becoming a Blogger

2008-07-10T20:29:00.000-06:00

Tech Savvy is not the term you would use to describe me. I finally carry a cell phone with me, it actually has a few phone numbers programed into it and I even text every now and then. So when my friend Chelsea told me that she was a "blogger" I just chalked it up to the fact that she is totally hip, and I'm - well I'm totally unhip me. But then I thought - why not me? So here I am, becoming a blogger. Rock on!