Baby Beluga

Kyla is nine months old. That's the length of an entire pregnancy. Crazy. She is so much fun, although her clinginess to me is getting a little old. She doesn't seem to really like Jeff anymore (if I'm around) and cries more now than she ever has. But she's still so cute. She has learned to clap and will do pat-a-cake, although I am yet to get it on film. Stay tuned for that one (I'm sure no one will die of anticipation). She can't hold still, which has gotten increasingly annoying when I am changing her diaper. Still has no teeth. Is starting to reject baby food in favor of real food. Climbed up three steps at church. Basically, she is just a big girl (19 lbs 4 oz, so not huge).

I think she was getting tired of the same old Bexley shots, and decided to get creative. This is her showing how strong she is.

She constantly gets mistaken for a boy, even when she's wearing pink. I have never been one for big bows, but I decided enough was enough. Now she will be sporting one of these when we go out of the house. Come on hair, grow!

This pic is to show how tiny her nose is. You can barely see it when looking at her profile. Being one who has never been too fond of my nose, I am enjoying looking at hers.

Finally, here are some goodies from Allie:

I told her I needed to try some shorts on while we were at Target. Wide eyed, she said, "But people will see your garments!"

After watching Dora: "Does Swiper have blood inside his body?"

And looking at my ceiling fan, "Does your fan have caterpillars inside?" I think we may have discovered the source of her nightmares...

Now that I type those, they don't seem as funny as when she actually said them. I guess you had to be there.

Tara, this is for you!

Let's make something clear: Damon may look just like Jeff, but he is a totally different person. Jeff loves sports and all things manly. Damon loves dancing and all things girlie. He spends all his time with his mom, two sisters, and 10-year old neighbor girl next door. Honestly, what do you expect? He has recently shared with us his love of dance, and, against Jeff's wishes, I tend to encourage him. When he put these new jammies on last night, I told him they looked like gymnastic pants, but he insisted they were dance pants. Then he proceeded to show me his moves (in my defense, I didn't know they were going to be so tight).



Of course Allie had to get into the act by showing the moves she picked up at the ward talent show a couple of weeks ago. The best part, though, is what Damon is doing in the background. Enjoy!

How old?

At what age can I start leaving my kids in the car while I run an errand?

Scenario: I needed to stop at CVS to get milk. It is $3.99 there (not on sale this week, dang it) and I'm hoping to save myself $.80 or so by not getting it from the grocery store. I pass CVS taking a neighbor girl home from school. My three kids are in the back of the van, and Allie has fallen asleep because she hasn't taken a nap. After dropping neighbor girl off, I stop at CVS. I am only going to run in for a couple of minutes, grab two gallons of milk, and come right back out. Oh, I am going to pay for them, too. Damon is 5 years 7 months old. Can I leave them in the car?

I know the answer to that. And I didn't leave them in the car, so you can stop dialing child services and hang up the phone. I thought about it (briefly), then woke Allie up, got all the kids out of the van, and put the two girls in a cart. Damon pushed while I grabbed the milk and headed back to the van. After paying for it, of course. I think it took as much time (if not more) to get the kids in and out of the van than to actually buy the milk. And now it has got me wondering, how many more years of this do I have to look forward to? How old does my oldest need to be before it doesn't seem negligent to leave him alone in the car with the other kids? 7? 8? Just curious what you think about that. And at what age can I leave him alone with the kids at home so that I can go to the grocery store (another post for another day...)?

TIIIIIIIIRRRREEEEDDDD

I'm tired. I haven't slept well this past week, thanks to my two lovely daughters. I also have posted several times in my head, but haven't actually sat down to write anything. I've missed it.

Allie and I went on a "date" on Wednesday night. Jeff and I decided we would spend some "one on one" time with our kids once a month. In January, Jeff took Damon to Chuck E Cheese and then they brought ice cream home to share with us. So, Allie decided she would do exactly the same thing on her date, only with me. I snapped a pic as she was getting out of the van with her cup of tokens (left over from Damon's date, or night out as Jeff would call it), but didn't take any more once we were inside. Allie is still a little too young to actually play the games, and would lose interest after a few seconds. I didn't want to waste the coins, so I would try to quickly finish the game after she ran away. I actually lost her twice, and once found her riding the big horse with another little girl. Embarrassing, yes. After that I blew most of the tokens playing Wheel of Fortune so we could spend the tickets on a Lik Em Stick and go home. I think she had fun, though, so it was worth it.

Wednesday night was a rough night for Kyla (Monday and Tuesday hadn't been great, either). She had been coughing like a seal for a few days, but developed a fever Wednesday. After I got home from my date with Allie, I woke her up to feed her before going to bed. She threw up on me, and acted plain miserable.

Neither of us slept much that night. She was breathing so fast, really laboring, and couldn't seem to get comfortable. I thought it might be easier for her to breathe if I was holding her upright, so I spent a lot of the night in the recliner trying to make her comfortable. Nothing worked, and I couldn't sleep with her breathing so loudly on me, so I ended up back in my bed listening to her restless sleep. Thursday I took her in to the doctor and he decided it was probably something viral (croup usually is, and since that is what I thought she had anyway, I wasn't surprised). her fever had gone down and she was actually acted much happier, but because of her rapid breathing he decided to start her on some breathing treatments. We give them to her every 4-6 hours and she seems to be doing much better. She is coughing a lot more (a good sign, if you ask me) and hasn't had a fever in days. Damon even likes helping out if she'll let him.

So, we thought we were doing better and I slept pretty good Friday and Saturday (although Ky Ky was waking up more often than usual, one night even messing her diaper at around 3:00 am). But last night was horrible, and it was due to daughter #1. She woke up at about 3:30 crying about a scary dream she was having. I tried many things over the next couple of hours, but she couldn't seem to get control of herself enough to fall asleep. She wanted to get in bed with us, but that wasn't going to happen. Jeff and I decided when we got married that our kids would never sleep with us. There were a few reasons, such as no one really sleeps when a child is thrashing around, but we never have let our kids sleep with us. I gave Allie four options: she could sleep in her bed, she could get in bed with Damon (who was awake and begging her to stop crying), she could sleep on the couch, or she could lay on our floor. There was something wrong with all options, according to her, and she drifted from one to the other without making a decision. It must have been 5:00 (and after many tears) that she finally went back to her bed and went to sleep. At 6:00, Kyla woke up hungry and I practically slept walked into her room. She went back to sleep, though, thankfully. Needless to say, it was a bad night for everyone. And today hasn't been a picnic either, with a sleep deprived Allie to deal with. Cross your fingers for a better night tonight and a more patient mommy to deal with her the rest of today.

Here are a couple more shots of her shiner, which is pretty much gone now. Although I may have been tempted to give her another one last night when she wouldn't stop crying, she made it through without any bodily harm (not even a thump on the head from Jeff).

We've decided that we're not going to make her take naps anymore. She is trying to make the transition, but hasn't quite got there yet. On days she does take a nap, she doesn't fall asleep until 9:30 or 10:00, yet she seems to still need a nap most days (she'll often fall asleep in the car around 5:00 if she hasn't had a nap). I'm trying to compromise by letting her take a "rest," or stay in her room for an hour reading books and listening to music so I can have some peace and quiet myself. We'll see how this goes...

As a side note, Allie asked if we could take her hair elastics out while we were waiting to see the doctor with Kyla. I asked her why. "I want Dr Joyner to see my long hair," she said. What kind of child do I have on my hands?

Okay. I know I got "bag tagged" a while back, but have been avoiding posting because mine is ever so boring. If you haven't seen this going around, someone tags you to take a picture of the contents of your purse and post it on your blog. Here's mine:

1. My $3 planner from Costco
2. My wallet
3. My cell phone
4. My mp3 player
5. A tiny notepad
6. Flavored lip gloss from Bath and Body (an item Allie covets)
7. gum
8. 2 mustard packets (not sure why those were there)
9. baggie with cheerios
10. empty baggie
11. 2 diapers
12. wipes
13. medicine dropper

Told you it was boring. I tag anyone who hasn't done this and has any interest at all in cleaning out a purse (how about you, Lindsay?). Okay, my hour of "me time" is passing quickly, so I am off. I just finished A Thousand Splendid Suns if you're interested in reading my take on it. I'm probably not going to post when I have written a book review, so if you care about reading reviews, I hope you have added my book blog to your google reader (and if you don't use google reader, which tells you when blogs have been updated, you should!).

The End of the World

This could be a long one. Brace yourself...

Valentine's Day was fun. We got a babysitter and went to a party (something new for us on V-day, for sure). We ate our favorite sushi and then played The Not-so-Newlywed game. We must have been on the same wavelength (I'll attribute it to the sushi), because we did fairly well. We were tied for the lead after the last question and went into a tiebreaker. I was answering the question, with Jeff trying to match my answer. The question was, "When is your mother-in-law's birthday?" We got it wrong (by one day) and lost. I'll let you guess which one of us didn't know when her birthday was. We also had a little white elephant gift exchange. The candy bra I found was a hit. By the time we got home, I was way too full to eat any dessert (again, blame the sushi), but we've been snacking on this tasty treat for days:

Jeff did good--something unexpected, thoughtful, and goes well with ice cream. Just what I love. Oh, and the best part was that after the party the girl who was watching our kids wouldn't let us pay her, even after we insisted several times. Now we have to find a way to make it up to her.

Damon asked me last week if I was perfect. Laughing, I told him of course not. "Almost," he said, perfectly serious. Touched, I smiled at him. "Not even close, " I said. "But thank you."

A week ago, our ward primary had a talent show. I asked Damon what, if anything, he wanted to do for it. He told me he wanted to play the piano. Now, he doesn't know how to play the piano, but has taught himself "Mary Had a Little Lamb" during choir practice at the church. Okay by me. He decided to sing a verse, too. This was all him. Sorry about the bad lighting--still pretty cute.

Allie has a black eye. She was wrestling with Damon, hit some part of the fireplace, and came away like this:

We thought it would be fun to teach her something to say when people asked her what happened. This is what we came up with. I know, we're dorks.

I think it looks better today, so I'll take another pic after she gets up from her nap. She had a tough morning this morning, sneaking frosting from my giant cookie and applying makeup to both herself and Kyla. I love the second pic of Kyla. She looks pretty with makeup on, don't you think? Allie wasn't smiling immediately after these pics, as I sent her to timeout.

Oh, and Allie still hates Jonny (my brother, who she hasn't seen since Christmas). We had the following conversation last week:

A:I don't like Jonny without his shirt on.

K: He has big muscles, don't you like that?

A: No. When I grow up, and get big muscles, I'm going to smack him.

What a sweetie. Speaking of sweeties, I looked over at the high chair the other day, and noticed Kyla doing this:

I so remember both of my other kids doing this, and for some reason, it just made my day. I love that girl.

Alright, pictures out of the way, basic catch up completed. On to what I wanted to write about. Friday was one of those days. You know the kind, where everything (and everyone) is irritating for no particular reason? I was sweeping the floor AGAIN, and I started looking around. Everywhere I looked I saw something that needed to be cleaned; the walls, which don't clean up well at all, looked dirtier than usual. The windows were dirty, the carpet needed to be cleaned...the list just grew longer and longer the more I looked around. And my spirits sank. I started feeling like no matter what I do, it's not good enough. And everything I could see was reminding me of that fact. The dirty floor, the clutter on the dresser, fingerprints on the mirror--they were all mocking me, telling me that I'm just not good enough.

I put the girls down for a nap and started watching a show that had come in the mail from Netflix (an awesome Christmas present we got this year!). I'll spare you the details, but the point of this particular episode was this: "What would you do if you knew it was going to be your last day on earth?" While completely unbelievable and implausible, I got sucked into the drama of the show, and when Jeff got home from golfing, I was riveted, and emotionally involved. I had to pause it with about 10 minutes left so that I could go pick up Damon from the bus. On my way to the bus stop, I just keep thinking about that, and asking myself what I would do (or wouldn't do) if I knew it was going to be my last day on earth.

I wouldn't make Damon go to school, but would spend the morning snuggling with him and letting him play with my hair. I'd let him eat candy for breakfast and wouldn't tell him he needed to make his bed or clean up after himself.

I wouldn't get mad at Allie when she had an accident. I also wouldn't make her go to timeout for anything but hurting someone else. I wouldn't tell her we needed to comb her hair or that she was singing too loudly. I would let her eat whatever she wanted all day long, including my giant cookie with the frosting on it. I wouldn't make her take a nap and would let her wear whatever she wanted.

When Kyla cried, I wouldn't just put her in her high chair with some cheerios or a meat stick and hoped she would feel better. I wouldn't put her down because I had something else I needed to do, or let her cry for a few extra minutes while I finished something up.

I wouldn't exercise or even make my bed, and I would eat whatever I wanted all day long, too.

I would make Jeff stay home from school and would take any last requests from him (dinner, getting things ready for the kids, etc). I would hug and kiss him, never wanting to let him go.

I definitely wouldn't spend any time cleaning (unless, of course, Jeff requested it). And I doubt I'd get angry with any of them all day long.

My mind was whirling as I thought of all these things, and Damon stepped off the bus, happy to see me, but not quite the perfect son I had been remembering in my mind. When we got back home, the house still wasn't as clean as I wish it had been, but I was more okay with it. Allie woke up from her nap a little sad, and I held her a little longer than I normally would have. I was more patient with Kyla when she sat on the floor crying, waiting for me to pick her up.

Soon, though, everything was back to normal. I never did let the kids eat whatever they wanted or skip timeout just because I was feeling nice. I resumed my role as mom, doing the best that I can. And even though I know that I am not perfect (or even "almost" like Damon thinks I am), I'm the only mom they have. And I think they know that I love them. So, for today, that's enough. Fortunately, there's always tomorrow to work on being better.

History of Love: Part III, or THE FINALE!

NOTE: Any mocking of me in these pictures will not be tolerated. No mention of my eyebrows or my chubby cheeks, either. I can hardly believe I am posting these. Feel free to mock any of the boys, though. These are not necessarily the best pics I have, but they were the first ones I could find. At least you'll get a taste.

So, where were we? Ah, yes. The Mark/Russ saga. Here I am at Junior Prom with Russ. You can see how tall he is. Also, Jake is just below me and Mark is sitting on the farthest right. Yes, I got to have conflicted feelings all night that night.

And you have to throw Jake back in there, because that boy had some kind of spell over me. Even though I was "with" Mark, and we had some real good times together, I just couldn't get over Jake. A guy from high school actually wrote in my yearbook, "I am interested to see if you end up with Mark or Jake." I guess I didn't hide it too well. The summer after 11th, I decided to give up boys altogether. I was tired of it all. But it didn't take long for me to rethink that decision.

Here's Mark and me at Preference, the night we first kissed. Could I have invested in a nice self tanner? Sure. But that wouldn't leave us much to laugh about now, would it?

The beginning of my senior year, an old crush resurfaced. Tyler Campbell, the boy who couldn't come with me to The Sandlot date, was in my Sports Psychology class and he was dang good-looking. Tall (6'2"), dark, and athletic (catcher on the baseball team), he hadn't given me the time of day when we were juniors, so I wasn't too hopeful, but he made my heart race, and I liked it. I went to Homecoming with Mark, but it was pretty much over. My friends and I suddenly became fans of Campbell's soup (Tyler's nickname was "Soup"), and brought it up frequently in our conversations. It seemed to be very one-sided at first, but eventually, he started flirting with me. He later told one of my friends, "I was sitting there in class one day and she smiled at me. That's all it took." Man, if I had known that, I would've smiled at him more when we were juniors...Anyway, we started dating, and were together until he left on his mission the next September. Tyler was the BEST high school boyfriend. Here's why:

• Girls told me all the time how jealous they were that I was dating him. In high school, you know that validation means so much.
• He was an awesome baseball player. I loved going to watch him, and was so happy that he was winking at me between innings.
• He would do anything for me. I know that was true. One Friday, I was stuck at school after a softball game. Heather must have taken the car home, not knowing I didn't have a ride. I was trying to figure out how I was going to get home, when Tyler showed up (he lived close to the school). He said he had been trying to find me and my mom told him I might need a ride home. He drove me home (about 20 minutes away), asking me what my plans were for later that night. I told him I had made plans with some of my girlfriends, feeling a little guilty. He wasn't upset; he wasn't disappointed. He just told me to have fun. What a great guy.
• He was proud to be with me. He made a t-shirt with my number on it and wore it to basketball games (where we didn't have that many fans). He always told me how great I was, even when I wasn't. He was so supportive. He also surprised me by showing up in Heber at an all-star game I was playing in. It was several hours out of his way.
• He was respectful of me. Even though I heard he cussed a lot on the baseball field, I never heard him swear. That meant a lot to me. He also waited about five months before he kissed me, because he knew it scared me (that makes me laugh to think about now--I was so anti-NCMO in favor of an actual relationship that I freaked myself out. I can't believe he put up with me).

He was just the best. Senior year was the best. Here we are at Preference,

Senior Ball (the night he first kissed me),

and Graduation.

The summer after senior year was the best. Then real life started. Tyler got his mission call to Argentina and I left for BYU. He told me that he loved me and hoped I would still be around when he got home (he didn't ask me to wait for him, let that be known!). I was crushed when he left. And lonely. And preemies (Pre-Missionaries) at BYU were safe...

I met Randy Hunter about a month after Tyler left. He was in my freshman ward, living in Helaman Halls. He was so much fun, and took my mind off of being so sad all the time. It was nice not to be alone (I was never one to just play the field, can you tell? I needed to be in a relationship!). We dated from about November to April, with our ups and downs. He knew I had a missionary, I knew he was getting ready to go on a mission, so really there was no reason for any kind of commitment. He told me that he loved me, which left me feeling entirely conflicted, as I couldn't say it back. We broke up in April, and I realized that I was a lot more emotionally invested in him than I would have guessed. He offered to fly me to Oregon (Brookings, his hometown) for his mission farewell, and I decided to go. Here's Randy and me on the Heber Creeper. This was the first time...okay, not the first time he kissed me. That was a couple weeks later.

In the meantime, Jake was getting ready to leave on his mission. He and I had managed to become really good friends during the years, and got really close right before he left. I even went with him and his family the night he got set apart (WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT??). He was sort of dating one of my friends from BYU, but it's obvious now, in hindsight, that he and I had something undefinable going on and I could never quite get him out of my heart. Of all the guys I dated in high school, he was the one I thought I would be most likely to marry. Timing is everything, and we certainly didn't have that. My biggest regret from high school is that I never kissed him. I think it would've been awesome.

Here's a major flashback that should've been in the last post. This is Jake and me at Preference when we were sophomores. Jaesi, I left Paul in the pic just for you!

Okay, back to Randy. I flew to Oregon with no expectations for what was to come, but what else was going to happen? Of course we got back together, I sent him on his mission, then headed back to BYU writing to Tyler, Jake and Randy. What a time that was.

Two months after Randy left, I met and dated my first RM. He was in my ward at BYU. I myself was planning on going on a mission, so I guess that made RM's safe. Jeff was an amazing person, and everything I was looking for in a man. He was smart, like Mark, athletic, like Tyler, musical, like Jake, and fun, like Randy. I just wasn't ready to meet him then. I thought I should just stay single for a while, and not get my heart involved in something else.

Here we are on the couch at my apartment, in our "usual spots." This was long before I knew he was the one, but you can tell it's there (for me, anyway). Notice he let me hold the remote? He still does that.

I failed miserably. I started falling for him. It was hard not to. He was everything I'd ever wanted. Last year, for Valentine's Day, I wrote about our story, so I'm not going to go through it all again here. It took a lot of doing, but I finally realized that I couldn't live without him. I decided that all of my missionaries, and a mission myself, were not much to sacrifice when I had Jeff on the other side. Choosing him was the best decision I ever made. And I honestly believe that all the boys I loved throughout my life helped me to see that. From Kylen to Clint and Brent to Tyler, I began piecing together a picture of what my eternal companion would be like. And so, when Jeff came along, I was able to recognize that he was the one I had been looking for.

I'm sure there will be future posts dedicated to my sweetie (I will dig out wedding pictures someday), but for this Valentine's Day I want to thank all the boys I ever loved (or crushed on), who helped make me the person Jeff fell in love with. I owe you one. Love you Jeff! Seven (plus) years later and never been happier. Happy Valentine's Day all!

History of Love: Part II

Okay, now it gets juicy. Actually, strike that. With me, it never got JUICY, but it did get better.



Ninth grade is one I would like to forget (crush-wise). I started liking this boy named Clint Barney after he asked me to dance at a stake dance one time. He smelled good. I think it was Eternity. That did it for me. I think I liked him all year. I had a friend who was always trying to hook us up. She convinced me to write him a note that she would deliver to him. I am pretty sure it was about the NCAA March Madness tournament. I also am pretty sure she added some things to the note before she gave it to him. He started avoiding me after that. And one day in Geometry, I found a note on my desk from Clint's "anonymous friend." Basically, it said "Clint doesn't like you. Leave him alone." I didn't tell anyone about it; I was humiliated. I mean, I wasn't some crazy stalker girl. I was a nice, quiet girl who happened to have some very vocal friends. I still to this day wonder what Melody wrote in that note...



Let's leave that painful memory behind us. Tenth grade brought with it my all-time #1 crush, my "comebacker." Over the next four years, and in between many other guys, I always seemed to come back to this one. His name was Jake Stevenson, and I still smile when I think about him. He had dark skin, dark hair and the best smile you've ever seen. We were friends in ninth grade, but my bff Melissa had a thing for him, so I refrained. But by the time we were sophomores, she had moved on. And that left the door open for me. One of the best things about Jake was his voice. The boy could sing. He also played football and baseball and was just about the best thing ever. Needless to say, girls loved him. And he loved girls. He knew the power he had over girls and flaunted it to his advantage. The years have made the details a little fuzzy, but we started hanging out. I asked him to Preference at the end of the year (he turned 16 just a few weeks before--I was his first date). We danced close. He held my hand (my first real hand hold, not counting the one at EFY). I was smitten. I wanted him to kiss me good night, but I was scared, so I took him home before the other couple in my car. After that, things got weird. He sort of acted like that date never happened, and that we were just friends. For the next year, I went back and forth between hating him and falling for him again and again. Like I said, he was my comebacker.

Junior year, as I tried not to think about Jake, I dated two very different guys. First was Russ Broadhead. He was the tallest guy I dated, at 6'4". He tricked me into liking him. I told him I had a crush on someone, he told me he liked someone else, and so I thought it was safe to hang out with him. I asked him to be my date to movie night in the park, as the guy I asked first (Tyler Campbell) couldn't come. There is a park behind my parents house, and a bunch of my friends from the volleyball team decided it would be a good idea to run an extension cord from the house down to the park, set up a tv, and have a movie night. We chose The Sandlot, although I can't remember why. We all invited dates, took blankets and snacks, and watched the movie. Russ kept me warm (don't read too much into that). I realized by the end of the night that he liked me. That was a surprise. I had never thought of him like that. But there's something very appealing about a boy who likes you. I fell for it. He took me on a date. Finally got the courage to hold my hand. It was fun. And then another boy asked me to a dance, and so Russ thought it would be okay to ask my sister. And that bothered me. He didn't really even know her. Why did he have to go there?

The guy I went to the dance with was Mark Madsen. He was super smart, probably the smartest person I have ever met. He was also very skinny. I bet I weighed more than he did. He wasn't really all that handsome, either. I don't know what it was about him that attracted me to him, but it may have had something to do with the fact that he liked me, too. It's so nice to be liked. After the dance, I had sort of a love triangle with Mark and Russ. I had feelings for both of them (which was great, because it left me very little time to think about Jake), and spent many hours trying to decide what to do. I eventually chose Mark. I think it was his intelligence that won me over. That, and the fact that I didn't get a pain in my neck when I danced with him. I asked him to Preference, the last dance of the year, and he kissed me. It was my first kiss. I was 17.

This is becoming a marathon, so I'll end for now. I'm going to go see if I can dig up any pictures. Now that would be fun...

History of Love: Part I

This post has kind of been kicking around in my head for a while. A couple months ago, some friends and I were talking about how sometimes our husbands don't like talking about past boyfriends, relationships, etc. Jeff doesn't get annoyed whenever I bring up a past boyfriend (which really isn't all that often), but it's not like it's his favorite subject either. But I think it's fun to OCCASIONALLY remember different stages of my life, because somehow, they all prepared me to be able to recognize that Jeff was my perfect match. So, what better time to pay homage to those boys who helped me find true love than Valentine's Day (and the week leading up to it).

I have always been a one-man woman. I would choose a boy to like and would be loyal and faithful to him for a long time (part of my blue nature). I also was very shy. I'm sure at least half of the boys I liked never even knew it (unless my sister or my friends told them). So, although it's probably not much of a history, it IS me.

Let's start way back....kindergarten. I started early with my crushes. The first boy I ever remember liking was Kylen Hansen. We were in kindergarten together, and his dark hair and high waisted jeans made my heart race. After my mom got to know his mom, she let me go home with him one day after school. I think she thought "Kylen and Krystal" sounded good together. I carried my "after school clothes" in a bag so I could change once I was there. I don't remember what we did, but I bet I even got to go in his room, and maybe we even were allowed to shut the door. A couple months later, Kylen choked on a butterscotch at my birthday party and my mom had to do the heimlich on him. And then there was the end of the year program when our teacher paired us together to do the Mexican Hat Dance. As far as kindergarten romances go, this was a good one. Topped off with us swinging arm in arm around a sombraro. I don't know what happened after kindergarten, but I'm guessing we drifted apart. We managed to stay friends, though. In fact, Kylen took me to Homecoming when we were juniors. My mom was the happiest lady on the block. Maybe it was the fact that she saved his life, but she always had a special place in her heart for him.

My next noteworthy crush came in third grade (and then again in fifth grade). His name was Brent Guerisoli. Boy, he was cute. His dad worked for the recreation department and Brent's wardrobe consisted mostly of St. George marathon t-shirts. I was very jealous. Brent was also super smart. He gave me a wallet sized picture of himself one day after he came home from lunch. It was the best day. Lisha was jealous (you may have a different take on the story, Lisha!). Her mom told me that Lisha started going to choir at church just so she could stand by Brent. How could I compete with that? Fourth grade is sort of a lost year, but we were back together in fifth grade. And we happened to be in the most competitive classroom imaginable. Everything was a competition, and my little heart loved every moment of it. Every Friday we would have "championships," which was nothing more than pitting students against each other to see who could correctly answer questions on flashcards the fastest. I was hard to beat: addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, states and capitals...I was good at it all, and every time I lost, I took it hard. Brent did, too, and I can't forget the time he cried after I beat him (although I'm sure I cried every time I lost). Looking back on it, that's probably why he never seemed to return my affection--who could like someone who was constantly trying to bash them into the ground? But I couldn't help it. I loved the smart boy. And I loved beating him.



Sixth grade was not my finest year. Physically, that is. I had braces and big bangs. It's amazing boys liked me at all, especially since I still wanted to beat them at anything and everything. But I managed to fall for two different boys that year. Blake Niederhauser (did I search out the best last names or what?) was cute. He rode on my bus, and seemed a little dangerous because he had a tail. His hair was short everywhere else, but a little rats tail grew out the back. It was black, like the rest of his hair, until he dyed it blonde. Ooh, I really did like a bad boy (if any of you know Blake, you probably wonder how I ever could've imagined him to be a bad boy. It was the tail). He also played the trombone. That's pretty much all I knew about him at the time, but that was enough. My journal is filled with entries about him and how cute he was. Very mature. But unfortunately, we didn't have any classes together. And so it was only inevitable that my heart would wander (especially since I'm pretty sure Blake didn't know I was alive). It was during our class read-a-thon that a boy named Jay Winward caught my eye. He sat near me (and even rested against my legs!) all afternoon, and that clinched it for me. Blake and his blonde tail were a distant memory, as my affection shifted to Jay. I remember him blushing one day when he told me I looked nice in glasses, and I was sure my feelings were returned. But that was as far as it went--accidentally touching each other and blushing.

By the time I started seventh grade, I had forgotten all about him. There was the cutest boy in my shop class named Nick Larsen. He was smaller than me, but in seventh grade, most boys are smaller than the girls, so no one seems to mind. Nick had blonde hair and there was something about the way he looked in those shop glasses...he was also the first boy I ever knew about that liked me back. I knew it because one day after shop he asked, "will you go with me?" My heart was beating fast, and I wanted to jump up and down screaming "yes!," but instead I answered, "My mom won't let me." Nick was blushing even more than Jay had been, and seemed to take the disappointment fairly well. Except that he didn't talk to me anymore after that. Oh well, easy come, easy go.

Eighth grade was all about Sam Banks. He was my debate partner in Mrs. Lewis' class and I thought he was adorable. Even though when he talked he always sounded like he needed to blow his nose. He was really quiet, and I had high hopes that the hours we spent together practicing for our debate would bring us together. At night I would listen to Debbie Gibson's "Lost in Your Eyes" and imagine the moment when he realized his feelings for me. That moment never came. While I suppose you could say that we were friends once our big debate was over, nothing more ever came of it. And I am quite sure Sam would've been surprised to find out that I liked him.

Okay...stay tuned for part two...

Love

Here's a little quip from Allie.

"Rule #1: You love me. Rule #2: I....love....lipgloss."

She also loves blowdryers.

Mrs. Nephi

Because I am using my blog as a journal, I thought I should include some of the thoughts that I have as our family is reading the Book of Mormon together. That is a warning to all of you reading--this is going to be a post about the Book of Mormon, so feel free to stop reading now. I won't be offended.

My kids have been really good about reminding us to read the scriptures before they go to bed. We have even read on Fridays and Saturdays, which never happened before. Damon stumbles his way through a verse or two (he is actually doing quite well, and only needs a little help), and Allie tries to participate, too. Damon was reading a verse the other night and said, "And it came to pass that the Lord said..." He paused while he tried to decipher the next word. Allie, who knew what the chapter was about, leaned over and whispered to Damon, "to build a ship." I chuckled a little at that.

My insight comes from 1 Nephi 16 and 17. After Ishmael died, Laman and Lemuel (as well as some of the others) began to complain again about their afflictions in the wilderness. They mention specifically the fact that their wives have had to bear children in the wilderness, and go as far as to say that it would have been better if they had died at Jerusalem than to suffer all that they had (17:20). I get the feeling that their wives were probably big complainers, too, and heaven knows there is a lot to complain about during pregnancy.

The interesting thing is Nephi's take on the same situation. Instead of focusing on the negative, and how hard it must have been for the women, he focuses on the blessings of the Lord. In 17:2, he tells how the Lord blessed the women to provide nourishment for their babies and to be strong like the men, even though they were living on raw meat. He also says that they began to bear their journeyings without murmurings. There are two interesting things to learn from this: 1. Nephi's wife was an amazing woman. She had to have been. Nephi says in 16:8, just after talking about marrying one of Ishmael's daughters, that he "had been blessed of the Lord exceedingly." He got a good one; one that didn't murmur and complain while she was trudging through the wilderness pregnant and miserablem, but was strong like her husband. I love this woman that we know very little about.
2. Nephi (and probably his wonderful wife) were able to see the Lord's blessings even in their trials, while Laman and Lemuel (and probably their wives, too), were only able to see their suffering. I was really struck by this, and wondered how often I get caught up in how hard things are or how much I am asked to suffer. I want to be more like Nephi (and his unnamed wife) and to see the blessings the Lord is always pouring out on us, even when things seem so hard.

Okay, that's all for now.

It Felt Like Springtime on this February Morning

Today is one of those days when you look outside and are reminded why you live in Florida. I know many of you are stuck in a neverending winter, but today in Jacksonville, it is gorgeous. I feel like belting "As I Lay me Down" as loud as I can, like I used to do in college on those rare beautiful February days in Provo. I thought I should make note of it before summer comes and I'm cursing JU's ortho school that brought us here.

I made a list of things I wanted to write about, is that dumb? Too bad. It's what you're getting today. Mostly it's just things I wanted to have recorded somewhere for later.

1. I don't think I have ever mentioned my new calling at church. I have the very best calling imaginable. I play the piano for the primary. It is so much fun! I get to go to most of Sunday School, slip out to play for the primary, and catch the end of Relief Society. There is no preparation involved and I don't ever have to worry about how well I'm doing, because it's just for the primary kids and they don't mind if I stumble my way through a song or two. I love it because I get to check on Damon and make sure he is behaving himself. I love hearing the kids learn new songs (right now we are learning I Am a Child of God in Spanish and they love it!), and then I love getting to leave and not having to babysit anyone. It's so great.

2. Allie is no longer going to be saying prayers at our house. Every time her turn comes around, it is a struggle to get anything more out of her than "thankful for this day, bless the food...," and actually that sounds more like, "thankfulday blessfood," and Jeff and I are past the point of patience with her. We have had many lessons about how to pray, including making a list of everything we are thankful for; we discuss possible prayer topics seconds before she begins. Nothing has helped. She ALWAYS says, "what else?" before she has even come up with one idea of her own. Damon is finally to the point where he can pray by himself, although it has taken 5+ years to get to that point. He was just as pathetic as she is. So, we have decided that Allie is going to take a break from praying until she decides she wants to. It will save us all a great deal of annoyance.

3. Camping in Florida isn't really considered camping. Campsites not only have a firepit and running water, they also have electrial outlets. We have had friends who have brought along a spaceheater for their tent, so they wouldn't get too cold. We spent Friday night camping at just such a location. It was a lot of fun (we went with a couple other families this time), and I know the kids loved it, but it's still relatively hard to camp with a baby. Kyla didn't want to sleep in her own bed (it was pretty cold, and she won't keep blankets or a hat on), and I was afraid I was going to smother her in my sleeping bag, so it wasn't the best night's sleep I've ever had. And despite the chilly temperatures, a fire and bug spray, I still got bit a few times by mosquitoes, my mortal enemies.

4. I'm so glad the Patriots lost last night. How can I be such a big Red Sox fan and such a Patriot hater? Obviously I'm not from Boston. I could go on and on about the game and how glad I am that New England didn't end up perfect, but I won't. Yay for Eli Manning and the rest of the Giants. Jordin Sparks was awesome, too.

Best Super Bowl Commercial- I liked a lot of them, but this one was our favorite. It was funnier when we rewound it and watched it again.