Dream On

I had a dream about my sister last night. It was so powerful and so real that this morning I felt like I had really been with her. It took me a while to realize it wasn't real. It was so sad to me that I just wanted to go back to bed and find my way back to that dream.
I so miss my sister this time of year. Starting in September, when the air gets a little cooler, I really start missing her. She could light up a room with her smile and her excitement for the Holidays coming. I wish she was in the kitchen with me baking up a storm and throwing a little bit of love into each dish. Time has helped ease the pain of her passing, but it really never goes away. Oh, how I love that dear girl.

Good Night, Love You, See You In The Morning Erin.

Not Rising, Just Shouting

Neal here. I had to wait a couple of weeks after BYU's despicable loss to the Utes to make sure my feelings were legitimate and not just the rantings of a rabid Cougar fan. Now that I've had time to calm down, I went back and looked at a posting I made on my family website about the game. And what do you know: Those feelings are legit. Here's the post:

(Commenting on my brother's desire to continue "Rising and Shouting" for the Cougs) I ain't risin', but I certainly will do a lot of shouting.

My assessment differs from Joel's slightly. Here's my post-game assessment on Facebook.

Ahem.

"I've never been more embarrassed to be a Cougar fan. What a bunch of spineless, gutless, worthless, amorphous piles of steaming, wreaking, monkey poo! Where's your pride Cougs? Where's your heart? When o when will you finally show up to play? Consider this my resignation for Cougar fan-dom for the rest of the season."

Call me a fair-weather fan. Call me whatever you want. But I'm making good on my threat. I will only watch ONE more game this year, and that's only because I promised to take Joseph to a game (Those promises from father to son are so darn binding. Grrr!).

I'm madder than a hippo with a hernia. Don't the Cougs realize how big this fetchin' game is??? Don't they realize how much heat us Utah Blue Bloods take from those fetchin' red-bloods when the Cougs get it handed to 'em like this? How could they fail to show up when the pride, the hope, and the fondest wishes of Cougar Nation rest squarely on their shoulders? To lose is perfectly acceptable. To go down fighting is noble. To completely give up and let the scum of the football universe walk all over them is ten shades of pathetic.

That was the Cougar's worst loss to Utes since 1922! That's almost 90 years peeps! If we legitimately sucked, something like that would be forgivable. But to suffer a HISTORIC loss when we have so much ability and so much opportunity is absolutely outrageous.

A friend in our Ward works for BYU as a corporate sponsor coordinator. As such, he is often on the practice field, in the work out room, and on the field during games. Would you like to hear HIS assessment? "They needed to be humbled," he said. In his particularly astute opinion, it's PRIDE that brought them down. He said that Jake Heaps is full of himself. He's a five-star recruit who knows it, and he's not the only one. In my humble and mad-as-h-e-double-ho­ckey-sticks opinion, it wasn't turnovers that brought them down. It was the air being let out as their big heads were popped and quickly deflated.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm no closer to sharing my allegiance with the Utes than I am to giving up on Quaker Honey Graham Oh's (ooo baby. That's one fine cereal). Their victory has only solidified my hatred. I wish them nothing but the worst in their PAC 12 schedule. That being said, BYU's performance does deserve a good and proper shunning. And I shall give it to them. My refusal to participate in all but one of their games for the rest of the season is the best form of protest I can muster.

Which home game do you think I should pick to attend? Think the Cougs can keep their heads inflated long enough to handle IDAHO STATE?

I wonder what else is on TV this Saturday.

Speak Kind Words, Hear Kind.....Choes?

A couple of years ago, my sister Keri and I were out shopping. We stopped at Tai Pan Trading and were just browsing the store when we came across a sign that said "Speak Kind Words, Hear Kind Choes." We could not figure out what in the world it meant. What is a choe?
Finally, a woman who had been watching us pointed out another sign with the same saying, except the last word said "Echoes." Oh. Duh. We laughed our heads off! The sign we picked up was missing that important letter for that important final word.

I have been thinking about that saying/experience a lot because I have been feeling sad about some friend issues for a few days. Sometimes we can speak kind words and do all we can to be a good friend to others, but it doesn't always mean it's going to come back to us in the same way. I was talking to my sisters about this when I realized that while I am always going to strive to be a good friend to others, my best friends are already built in. My sisters are my best friends. Even my sister Erin who passed away 3 years ago is still my best friend. I feel that she is still an active part of my life.
Sometimes I think we all struggle with feeling important or feeling fulfilled by those around us. I realized yesterday and this morning as I talked to my sisters several times that I have what I need. I have 3 wonderful sisters who love and support me, even when I'm retarded or annoying to them. They will never leave me or give up on me.
I am grateful for friends that come and go and all they've taught me. Despite the hardship that comes with friends at times, I still hope I will always be the kind of girl that "Speaks Kind Words and Hears Kind Choes."

9/11: 10 Years Later

Neal wrote this post to his family a few days ago and it was so poignant to me I had to share:


"I revisited the feelings I had ten years ago about 9/11. Mercifully, we had Stake Conference yesterday, so I had the chance to think about something NOT involving Church responsibilities. I watched a lot of 9/11 TV specials and attended a neighborhood observance. The observance was quite poignant. We were outside on the Evergreen Court basketball court as an unseasonal chill descended and light rain fell. Tim Goodman, an LDS recording artist, sang some terrific patriotic tunes while several Old Glories flapped in the wind, posted on the lawn adjacent. I was suddenly struck, as we all huddled together under blankets determined to observe Patriot Day regardless of the weather, how similar our little gathering was to our nation as a whole ten years ago. We all faced an unexpected storm, but our determination to draw close won the day.

I was also painfully reminded throughout the day how little my feelings have healed since then. There's still this raw, sensitive hole close to my heart, and I'm still deeply moved by the mere ghost of my memories.

Ten years ago, I was a newlywed of only a few months. My life between marriage and 9/11 was a blur of quixotic happiness. Shannon and I had time to burn with each other, plenty of money, I had a great new job that I loved, and we both had unfettered optimism about our lives. Then, that morning, I awoke before Shannon, got ready for work, and flipped on the news as I ate breakfast. Like many of you, I was shocked but not overly-alarmed by what I saw. A plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. "I'm sure it was an accident," I said to myself. "Certainly some people have died, but the building is still standing. It could have been a lot worse." Still, I was concerned enough that I called Shannon's attention to the TV screen. It was about five minutes later that the second plane struck the other tower. At that moment, our lives turned upside down. The world where bad men only occasionally got away with REALLY heinous acts was gone. We were under attack. And that wasn't the only manifestation of my upside-down world.

I arrived at work about 40 minutes late that day, only to be excused from work about two hours later. "Go home," my boss said. "Go be with your families. My heart isn't here today, and I'm sure yours isn't either."

Ten days later, as a direct result of 9/11 and the subsequent economic downturn, my boss excused me from work permanently.

It took me years to get my career back on track. I had to turn my back on the career of my dreams (computer animation) to something I enjoyed but not nearly as much. It was three years and five jobs later when I finally managed to make the kind of money I made before 9/11. During that time, I struggled and scavenged, I wrestled with anger and fear in equally unprecedented degrees, and I felt lonely and lost. I have since regained my hope for the future, thanks to a loving God who cares deeply about me and is involved in the details of my life. But for years, I just couldn't make ends meet, couldn't see a future that included any measure of personal success, and couldn't find my old sense of swagger.

All of that was a direct result of Osama Bin Laden and the soulless bastards who follow him.

I know I'm preaching to the choir, here, but we can't forget. To be more specific, we can't forget to act. We cannot, as a nation, cease our resolve to chase terrorists to the ends of the earth, regardless of the sacrifice. We cannot for a second lose our love of country, even though our current President's policies have horribly weakened it. We cannot slide in our personal and emergency preparedness. Most of all, we can't stop seeking to be the very best citizens we can be.

God bless America. God help our beloved Union to never forget."

Vent

I know I shouldn't vent publicly, but I figured no one reads this blog anyway, so why not?

I joined the PTA last May and I regret to say that I did not research the position before accepting it. One mother told me they needed a PTA President-Elect. That sounded harmless enough to me and they were desperate, so I told them I would do it. Neal has not stopped making fun of me since. Why did I not look into what I was getting myself into? I really am going to do my best and feel grateful to be with my kids so much at school, but if I could I would stay in my home/cave and never have people look at me or look to me to be in charge. Instead I am going to be front and center (especially next year) and I don't want to do it!

I was supposed to start my "Sex Goddess Diet" on September 1st. I am turning 40 next May and I really want to look my best before I plummet into middle age. But the problem is, I have no desire. I want it to happen instantly and I don't want to make the effort! So, instead of working really hard and changing my habits, I have done nothing to change and am eating worse then ever. Blah.

I have read a certain blog for several years that I really looked to for help and parenting advice. She helped me be a better parent and taught me to love being a mother. But recently her blog has become to much for me. I guess if it bothers me so much I should stop reading it.
The truth is, I am probably jealous. I know that she has gone through tremendous struggles in the last several years, but I wish she would realize that the general audience that she is speaking to, does not live the ideal lifestyle that she does.  I don't mean to offend anyone that knows her, and I especially don't want to offend her. She has helped me in ways that she will never know. I even met her once at Costco. Well....I went up to her and hugged her. I felt that she needed to know how much she had helped me.
I know that most bloggers write about the good things in their lives. We don't see all of the struggles, the pain and the stress that goes on behind the scenes. So why am I struggling with her? I realize her life isn't as perfect as it seems. Can anyone else explain this to me and do they feel the same way? Does my frustration even make sense?

Anyway, I could keep venting but I should just stop now. I don't want anyone to feel bad about what I am saying, they are just things I am thinking about and want to figure out in my own life.

Growing Up Too Fast

Joseph just turned 8. He was so lucky to have cousins come from Texas and Kansas on his birthday and a few days after. I just wish these kids would stay little. They are all so darling and I love them little! It is hard to realize that I now have a pre-teen in the house. Just since turning 8, Joseph already seems so much more mature to me. He is acting more independent and venturing out on his own. I am excited for him, yet at the same time longing for that time when he was little and loved to play with me all the time. Childhood goes so quickly!

Stories From My Youth: Buddah Belly

This story is really stupid, but one that always makes me laugh really hard when I think about it. I grew up in Colorado and lived around several small lakes called the Marston Lakes. I loved going to the lake with my family. We would often walk there in the evening and just hang out on the dock and watch the sunset.

One particular evening I walked to one of the lakes with two of my sisters. I don't really remember what we were doing and the only thing that sticks in my mind is what I did and the complete idiot I was about to make of myself in public.

My sister Keri and I shared a room for awhile and somehow we got started on something we called "buddah belly." We would lift up our shirts and rub our belly's against each other. Yah, weird right? We thought it was hilarious every single time we did it.

Well, out there on the dock Keri dared me to do buddah belly. I was quite shy and did not do crazy things like lift my shirt up in public....usually. But something struck me that night and I thought "what the heck, no one will even see me." So I did it. I lifted up my shirt, pulled my pants down to my hips and said our usual...."oh buddah." Keri started laughing her head off and then for some reason I turned around, with my entire mid section exposed....to see my Bishop standing there! Two feet away from me!

I froze. I didn't pull up my pants right away because I was mesmerized and mortified by the smirk on the Bishop's face. He never said a word. He just stood there and grinned at me. I slowly pulled up my pants and ran past him. I couldn't look at him for weeks. He never mentioned it and I didn't dare say anything. I always wondered what he was thinking in that moment.

See, totally stupid story, but one that conjures a lot of giggling from me. Oh, and this is the same Bishop that let us going skinny dipping on a trip to Lake Powell. I really do have fond memories and love the experiences I had as a youth! Even the really embarrassing ones!


P.S. I did not have a buddah belly at the time this incident occurred. That happened many years later, after I had kids. It's my curse for making fun of buddah bellies!!