I'm B-AAA-AAACK!

Did you miss me?

To be honest, I've missed you.  Blogging has really taken a back-seat lately, in case you hadn't noticed, and I have been anxious to get back to it.  The problem is knowing where to start.

I could tell you about the horrors of moving 800 miles through a blizzard two days after Christmas, but I've moaned about that here in Blog Land enough already.  And besides, the outcome was that we arrived and no one died.

Then I could tell you about how I caught fire at the fancy-schmancy VIP night during the grand opening of my husband's store, but that's really all there is to that story.  I caught fire.  My husband dragged me out of his showroom for fear I'd set off the sprinkler system and all those highfalutin interior designers in there sipping on their cocktails would get soaked.  It was embarrassing.  My favorite jacket was ruined.  The end. 

Then I could tell you how the hubs and I are being audited by the IRS, but that's a rather personal story that just makes us look bad, so I'll skip it except to tell you that the pit-stop we made at his mom's house is turning into a much longer stay than we'd anticipated...

And finally, I could regale you with the story of how I had a stroke at the ripe old age of thirty and landed in the hospital for three days.  Turns out I have a hole in my heart, just like my dear father, who felt the need to share with me his less than desirable DNA.  The good news is that this story is on-going and you'll certainly be kept up to date.  Also, I'm not drooling uncontrollably or anything - the stroke was a mini-stroke which doesn't leave lasting effects.  But I do have some hilarious pictures to show you at a later date. 

The best way to summarize the month of January is to say that it has been crap from start to finish.

HOWEVER!

I've learned a lot along the way:  don't move in the winter, don't stand near open flame, if you know you made a mistake on your taxes you should fix it instead of brushing it off, and sometimes life is just insane and there's not much you can do but ride it out.

I've also learned that in the midst of every trouble there are blessings, and those blessings usually trump the bad stuff - if you focus on them.

I believe in God, (I hope that's not shocking to all of you), and I also believe that He does not send us trials that are beyond our capability to handle.  And I believe that those trials are meant to refine us and strengthen us, not trample us into despair. 

I feel stronger.  I feel awakened to how much good is in the world, and in the people around me.  I feel joy in the smallest blessings in life, and it's become easier for me to spot them.  They are everywhere.  I am glad for this horrible month in the sense that it has changed me for the better - if only just a little bit.

Homeless

I had to run an errand today, and I decided to take the kids to Burger King for lunch so they could play on the indoor playground there.  I know, I said I'd never do that again, but I was desperate.  All this freezing weather and snow has kept us cooped up inside and the kids needed some room to run without me yelling at them to be quiet and walk.

Sigh...

So we ran to Wal-Mart to pick up a night light and some craft supplies.  When we left the store a man approached us asking for change or a dollar.  I had to turn him away because I didn't have so much as a nickel on me.  But when I got into the driver seat, Cameron held up two dollars that he had found in my change compartment.  I told him we could drive around the parking lot to look for the man and give the money to him.  We drove around and around, but couldn't spot him in the crowds of people coming in and out.  As it turned out though, there were homeless people on every corner with cardboard signs asking for help.

Here in Utah, or in my town, rather, that is a rare thing.  We don't have people standing at freeway exits panhandling.  We don't see people sitting with their dog at the back of the Target parking lot asking for handouts.  We take notice when someone is standing outside with a cardboard sign because it's not something we're used to.  

There are a lot of different opinions about whether or not it's wise to give money to those people.  We don't know what they'll spend it on or if they really are as needy as they appear.  A lot of people say it's better to give money to a homeless shelter or a food bank than to hand out a spare dollar to panhandlers.  Well, that may be true, but I never do that.  I bet a lot of people never do that.  Have you ever driven down to a homeless shelter and written a check, or dropped off a sack of food to a food bank without someone coming to your door to collect it?  I haven't.  So giving someone on a corner my meager change is the best I can do.  It isn't ever much, but it's something.  And if my little something plus someone else's little something means that someone can buy himself a cheeseburger or some gloves, then that's a good thing.  If it's used to buy alcohol or drugs, then so be it.  I won't presume to dictate what my gift can be used for.  I've never walked in anyone else's shoes, so I can't judge.  

We gave up looking for the same man who had asked us for change and decided to give the money to a different man on a corner.  He was wearing a blue stocking cap and a red and black checked jacket.  He had a patch over one eye and his skin looked weathered and worn. Though he didn't smile, I could see that some of his teeth were missing.  His sign said something about being a single father, but I didn't read it all.  Cameron rolled down his window as we approached and held his hand out with the two dollars.  The man approached quickly, took the money from Cameron's outstretched hand, and with a strained voice from either cold or emotion he looked at Cameron and said, "God bless you.  Thank you Little Buddy."  I wished him a happy holiday, which seemed like an impossibility, and we drove on.

I don't know that man's story.  I don't know if he really was a single father, if he really did have a problem with his eye, if he was there by choice or circumstance; but I knew he was genuinely grateful for those two dollars.  I've handed money out of my car window enough times to know when it's really appreciated and when it's just another drop in the bucket.  Cameron felt it, too.  He said, "We really helped that man, didn't we?"  The truth is, not much.  But we did something.  Something is always better than nothing.

This time of year we think about the Savior and how he came into the world with nothing but the love of a family.  I feel so blessed to have what I do.  I may not be wealthy, but as I look at all the weariness and hopelessness in the world, I feel nearly crushed by all my riches.  And it might be corny or cliche, but we're all beggars.  We all need help from our brothers and sisters at some point in our lives. Today I saw Christ in the faces of all those people standing on corners holding their signs asking for help.  I hoped that they could feel the Savior carrying their burdens, whatever they are. 

It's A Good Thing

This is the result of leaving Drew and Bryan unattended in the playroom. It's not so bad, really. I can clean that up in twenty minutes if I can lock myself in that room tonight and not have interruptions. I am just so glad that they have found something to do besides follow me around all day!

Nine to Six, Tuesday Through Saturday

It is with overwhelming trepidation that I write this post, because the last time I wrote a gratitude post the cosmos decided to punish me with three weeks of washing dishes by hand. If that happened with this one we'd be toast. So here goes nothing.

I am grateful for Andrew's job.

(Cringe, hold breath! Any second now he's going to call and tell me that he got laid off and it will all be my fault.)

I am grateful that he has a job. It's an amazing thing that he is still employed, and has been at the same place for four years, despite all the uncertainty that has been going on in the world. Especially in his field.

But more than that, I am thankful that he enjoys his job. He looks forward to going to work, and that is rare. Having a husband who is willing to take on the entire responsibility of providing for our family so that I can be the one to raise our children is a huge blessing for all of us, and he deserves to be happy in what he does.

He may not be doing the same thing three years from now, (or three days from now if the blogging gods continue to be cruel), but for the time being, I recognize this gift and I am thankful for it.

My Dad's Better Than Your Dad!!

In honor of my father's 52nd birthday, I have quite easily conjured up 52 reasons why he's better than anyone else's Dad. (Unless you are Kellie or Joel, and then we share the same father, and if you are Natalie, I think that due to your almond-shaped eyes, there is still debate about who your true father might be, so there you go.) And you can refute my claim to have the best father if you like, and I will understand that it is completely in an effort to make yourself feel better. I'm very sorry.

1. Dad always likes to play funny jokes on me; like when I was eight years old and he let me pick out my first pair of glasses and then told me I looked cute in them.



2. He never let me settle for less than my very best.

3. He taught me to respect my elders, so that the first time I accidentally used a curse word in front of my grandparents, I was properly mortified.

4. Dad instilled in me an appreciation for the fine art of horror films. I was introduced to "The Shining" at age 6, "It" at age 10, and "Misery" at age 14. Those were our favorites, (apparently we had a thing for Stephen King). A lot of the films we watched, such as Bram Stoker's "Dracula" were "paper bag movies". If we wanted to watch a movie that had nudity in it, we were required to put a paper grocery bag over our heads during any questionable scenes. (Can you picture it?) So this way, we could be scared out of our wits while still maintaining our decency, though not our dignity. Unfortunately, this practice was not invented until after the era of "The Shining", so I still have flashbacks of ancient, wrinkly, horrifying naked women climbing out of bathtubs sometimes.

5. Dad loved to be spontaneous - like deciding at 8:00 at night, while we were being given our bedtime baths, that it was a perfect time to visit Grandma 6 hours away. So we got to sleep on a makeshift bed in the back of the Bronco while we drove until 2 a.m. to get to Grandma's house. That's how I remember it, anyway.

6. My dad always brought us souvenirs from his world travels. My absolute, hands down favorite is this one:




7. He taught me that life is as fun as you make it.

8. Dad loves to tell my kids ghost stories. And boy, do I love the endless barrage of questions about those ghost stories that they punish him with!

9. Dad is an awesome example of leadership.

10. He taught me to appreciate creativity.

11. Dad forced me to try things that I was afraid to do. Case in point: We often went out on our boat to do a little tubing and water skiing, attempt wake boarding, etc. I never learned to swim and was therefore afraid of the water. No, not afraid. Terrified to the point of heart failure. So I had never been on the "biscuit" as we called it. One day on the boat, Dad decided to rectify that. He scooped me up and held me over the side of the boat, with no life jacket on, and told me that if I didn't get on the biscuit he would toss me overboard. No amount of kicking, screaming or crying would change his mind, so I finally agreed and he put me down. I got onto the biscuit, Dad promised not to flip me on purpose, and off we went. I clenched my teeth so tightly during the entire ride that when it was over, I couldn't open my mouth. Jaw was locked shut tight. But, once I could open my mouth again, I decided that it wasn't so bad and that it might have actually been kinda fun. That incident led to many a ride on the biscuit. Even the times that Dad did flip me on purpose were wicked fun in the end, and if he hadn't pushed me out of my comfort zone that day by threatening to drown me, I would have missed out on all that fun.



12. Dad was a father first, but always a trusted friend.

13. He taught me to cherish family.

14. Dad gave me an appreciation for a wide range of music just by exposing me to a menagerie of artists.

15. Dad kissed my mother in front of me all the time as a kid. I knew my parents loved each other. It felt safe.

16. He taught me to be grateful for what I had.

17. Growing up, he reprimanded us kids in French. I now have a solid, 6 word French vocabulary.

18. Dad was always so much fun to be with that even just a ride into town with him to run errands was a treat.

19. Dad never had to tell me that he was proud of me, I could just tell. But he told me anyway.

20. Dad can always make people laugh.

21. He used to sing while playing his guitar when I was young. I loved listening to him sing.

22. Dad always gave me what I needed, and often what I only thought I needed, and certainly things I was sure I didn't need.

23. When I was 7, I had another one of my accidents, and Dad came running to pull my bare foot from where it was trapped in my bike, and then carried me, bleeding, back to the house. Another one of those "safe" feelings.

24. When I was 16, and guilty of eating the last Rice Krispie Treat, he taught me the invaluable lesson that one is never too old for a spanking.

25. My dad has always been a good father-in-law to my husband, but because Andrew had lost his own good father, Dad stepped in to encourage him in a time of deep despair. He loves Andrew as his own.

26. Dad gave me his huge eyes.

27. He took me camping...

28. ...and to Disneyland (3 times)...

29. ...and to church. I didn't always like it at the time, but what would I do without that knowledge now?

30. Dad married Julie Sue McClurg, therein giving me the very best mother that a child could hope for.

31. He loved me even though my sense of humor was outrageously inappropriate 99.9% of the time.

32. Went with me to a Daddy-Daughter Date, which could not have been high on his list of fun things to do.



33. Took photographs of me as a child so that I could look back and see how cute I used to be.



34. Being the cool dad that he was, he hand-made us some incredible Halloween masks so that we could put the other kids to shame. We would sit for hours at a time in the days before Halloween as he applied liquid latex, foam, paint and other oddities to our faces. In the end, we had very red skin and a custom mask that would make little kids cry and cling to their mothers. We were not allowed to dress as princesses or angels or anything silly like that. Halloween was for being scary, and we loved it. One year I was a clown, but I had an eyeball hanging from it's socket. My favorite mask was the skeleton, which I wore for several years, until my face no longer fit into it's mold. And if that weren't enough, Dad took us in our hideous costumes to the ultra-rich neighborhoods, where all self-respecting trick-or-treaters go to get their full size candy bars and cans of soda. Smarties and tootsie rolls were for suckers.



35. Dad loves my kids. He never had the privilege of raising multiple boys, but he suffers through the noise and rowdiness and seems to really enjoy them most of the time!

36. Dad taught me to work hard and do a good job.

37. I was out with Dad once when I was a teenager, and we stopped at a store to pick up somethingorother, and we made a pit stop at the candy aisle to get a treat, but he said that we both needed to choose a candy bar that we had never tried before. I don't remember what he chose, but I picked a U-NO, (is that what they're called?). That was the day that I learned that I do not like U-NO bars, and that spicing it up is fun and exciting, even when the results aren't as good as a Milky Way.

38. Dad never sticks his nose into my problems or tries to solve them for me, but he is there for me the very moment that I call for his help.

39. Every Thanksgiving, we helped Mom make the dinner and then we helped with the dishes. Dad would take joy in repeatedly proclaiming that Thanksgiving was a "woman's holiday" in which we could showcase our talents. We all knew that what he was really trying to say was that there was no way he was helping with the dishes. But once in a while, Dad would grab a dishcloth and pitch in. (Ok, once in a great while.) But those times made chores a little more fun. Dad was there, and he made just about anything special.

40. For more reasons than I can list here, I went through high school with my friends loving my parents. Some adored my parents, others loved how fun they were, and others were quite jealous. It was neat to have "the cool parents".

41. We moved a lot as kids. I rarely went to the same school for more than one year. Dad may think that to have been a bad thing in our lives, but I disagree for two reasons. First, I was a huge nerd for many of my elementary school years, (or all of them), and moving meant I could start all over and make new friends at the next place. I never really did succeed in shaking that nerd label, but at least I didn't have to endure the same bullies every year. And the second reason I think moving frequently was good is that I have acquired the ability to easily adapt to change. In fact, I love change. Life is easier when you know how to get through challenges on your own willpower and ingenuity. I think Dad did us a favor.

42. Dad put me in my place when I needed it. I'd hate to have had a father who let me get away with things and thereby grow up to be a world class loser.

43. Dad took us crabbing several times when we were kids living in the Pacific Northwest. On one of those occasions, the biggest crab of the day fell out of the trap as Dad was pulling it into the boat. I reached down and grabbed the prize catch, in my mind risking life and limb, and Dad praised me over and over that day for snatching the crab back from the sea. I felt like a hero. Dads should make their kids feel that way from time to time.

44. Dad's Priesthood authority has been a blessing in my life and my children's lives.

45. He never made me mow the lawn.

46. Andrew once gave me a hickey on my neck when I was 16 or 17. I had no clue it was there, (always have bruised easily...) and Dad saw it. Oh, the fear that consumed me. I made an emergency call to Andrew in the dead of night to warn him that my father would be speaking to him at church in the morning. How humiliating! Andrew demonstrated that he was a real man just by having the guts to show up at church the next day, and Dad had a little chat with Andrew in his truck. Andrew claims that he was told by my father that if he was going to give me hickeys, that he should kindly do it in a place that no one would see so that his daughter wouldn't look like trash. Nicely put, Dad. It may have seemed like idiotic advice, but we were both smart enough to know that what he was really saying was, "If you really love my daughter, you will treat her with the respect she deserves."

47. My dad is SMART. I know that just a little of that rubbed off on me, because I am smart enough to know that I will never be as smart as him. I was about 15 years old when my father handed my sister and I each a copy of "10 Stupid Things Women Do to Mess Up Their Lives" by Dr. Laura Schlessinger. We were told to read it, give a book report on it to him, and when we were done, we would be given our spending money for an upcoming family vacation. How do you like them apples? Smart.

48. Ah! Responsibility. Dad taught me to do what I say I will do, be where I will say I will be, keep a promise and be on time. I am now habitually early to everything, I commit to things that I regret 5 seconds later, but I follow through, and I feel appropriate guilt when I let someone down.

49. My dad helps others, even when it requires sacrifice on his part. He once waded through sewage water for hours to help a widow fix her plumbing. How's that for a good example of charity?

50. Dad loves to laugh. He passed that love down to me. Although, the time that I came down the stairs late at night to get a drink of water, (I was again, 16 or 17), and saw Dad standing at the kitchen sink with a Kit-Kat stuck in an unmentionable place, I did not laugh. I turned around and walked back upstairs. Turns out that he was trying to make my mother think that he had...you know what? He will probably kill me for taking this story as far as I have already, and I should probably just stop right there. If you know my dad, you can guess where the story was going, and you'd probably be right. If you don't know my dad, then you would never understand.



51. My Dad told me when I was 19, and having a difficult time, to "create [my] own happiness." I've never forgotten that advice. It wanders back into my mind when I need it most.

52. Possibly the best thing that my father ever said to me was when I was 18 years old and the whole family was sitting at the dinner table one night. I don't remember what prompted him to say this, but it stuck with me then and brings me joy now. He said, "I hope that one day all of you find someone who will love you as much as I love your mother." Right in that one statement, a whole life was shaped and a future was mapped. I had lived my entire life to that point knowing that my mother was the light of my father's life. He was affectionate with her, had fun with her, treated her like royalty and demanded the same from us kids. My dad wanted the same kind of marriage for all of his children, and he had shown us how to have it. That's how I knew that Andrew was the man I was supposed to marry; he treated me like my dad always treated my mom.

On this day, when my dear ol' Dad turns 52, I am reminded of how much he has blessed my life, and how grateful I am to be his daughter. Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you! I'm sorry you're old!