Finding The Light

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

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

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!).

1. You are Special! And ABSOLUTELY NO ONE has the right to hurt you.
2. 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

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

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

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!

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

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?

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

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

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!

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.

1. 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.
2. 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!)
3. I seriously need to take some skiing lessons, as I was way out of my league with these gals.
4. Time spent in the Lodge should be just as fun (if not more so) than time on the slopes.
5. Ice cold wind with flecks of snow do not feel good when inhaled into the lungs.
6. 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.
7. We all fall. It sure does help to have someone help you up & laugh with you when you're done though.
8. This world needs peace. So, let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.
9. Sometimes it is absolutely wonderful to get caught up in the experience of life and forget about everything else.
10. and oh yeah, women rock!

Thanks ladies! I had the best day!

Happy New Year's Everyone!

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!

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 . . .

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.