pout-free and loving it.

I have invested far too much time contemplating what I do/don't want this blog to be. Because of it, no entry ever felt just right to me. My mind just never fully wrapped itself around this identity, of who I was and what this blog was to represent. Luckily, something recently helped me make those decisions I can belabor all too much: I just learned that Blurb now has the ability to slurp from blogger, easily building cheap, beautiful books from the text and images of a blog. I've been waiting so long for this feature I'd forgotten all about it! It has renewed my desire to post in our family blog -- and also gave me a beautiful, single purpose: Now my blog can act as the only sort of family journal we'll probably ever have.

So, if you get sick of posts about one abnormally cute little girl, one wonderful husband, and one generally abnormal momma, this might not be the blog for you. In other words, I will be regularly blogging about the wonderful bits of our family life. It doesn't mean we don't have our down days, but the good days do vastly outnumber the bad, and when this is all my children have to understand their childhood, I want it to reflect the joy they bring me. If any entry ever sounds braggish -- which is something I abhor with every fiber I possess -- please understand, it's not written to make others feel slighted or inferior. It's not written for others at all. It's to let my children know, somewhere down the line, of their accomplishments. Those small steps, I feel it urgently important for them to know, were noticed and celebrated.

--- End bizarre informational section ---

Betsy is always cute -- what mother thinks otherwise? -- but dang, she gets cuter and cuter as her vocabulary grows and she can really express herself. In the strain of my friend Catherine, I've decided to start including Betsyisms.

*This morning Betsy was snuggling in bed with me and I heard her sigh. "Are you okay?" I asked, "Are you sad?"
"Yes," she said, quite seriously. I asked her why.
"Want Daddy." she moaned.
"Where is he?" I asked.
"Wook," she replied.

*At night when I put her to bed, we sing songs. Several weeks ago she started asking for her personal favorite, "Daddy Home" (I'm So Glad When Daddy Comes Home.) Well, it didn't take long before "Daddy Home" had turned into "Daddy... Poppy... Home" and a few days after that, it was "Daddy... Poppy... Jesus Home."

*As I was typing this, she opened the drawer where I keep the oven mitts. She put one on her hand and motioned me away, saying "Move back!" just like I tell her when I open the oven.

*She also started asking me to sing her "Jenny" at night. Considering she doesn't know a single Jenny, I had no idea where this came from. Finally, a few nights later, it hit me: She was asking for one of her other favorite songs: Genealogy.

*Several weeks ago she was sitting in the back of the car listing off several of her friends names, followed by "no." (We can only guess why.) "Max? ...No. Bannon? No."
"How about Rhett?" I asked.
"Rhett. Rhett coot (cute.) Honk, honk."

*She likes to count, but often skips four and consistently skips seven. But boy, does she love it!

*I was at the computer the other day and found that Betsy was no longer running around, but had climbed all the way up and was now sitting on the island. I watched her closely, and moments later, she dropped something off of it. "I get it," she declares enthusiastically, and climbed back down to retrieve it. How -- and when -- did she learn that skill?

*The other night as I was putting her to sleep, she was talking to me as she drifted further and further from wakefulness. Her words: "Pretty, pretty..." (as she holds my pearls) "Pretty, pretty, (she moves to my hair) pretty... brown... hair... pretty you... pretty BYU! B U! B U!"" (She knows how to say BYU, but will only say it once before altering it to B U. We have no idea why.)

*And least you think she's nothing but a wonder-babe, let me tell you the most frequent word I've heard from her the past few days: "No, mine!" Oddly, this is usually said when I ask her the most unrelated of questions. This morning, she clutched a copy of the Ensign and a silky as she wandered around the house. I asked her if she wanted Cheerios. "No, MINE," she fumed, holding her items all the closer. This same exchange occurred at least half a dozen times before I finally got her to agree that she wanted breakfast.

Well, there's several more, but I think you get the idea: she's keeping us busy, content, and usually laughing, during days when it would be so easy to pout and whine.

Penny!

The past couple of weeks I've kept thinking to myself there was something I promised someone I'd post, but I couldn't remember for the life of me what it was! It finally hit me today, and so I must apologize to Penny for my delay. She currently exists back in the pre-FB days and so I told her we'd post here.

Oh -- and kudos to Jessi of Creative Juice Photography! I had an absolute blast with her and felt so at ease with her. And not just because we'd spent a semester living together. Jessi is super easy-going and artistic -- exactly the right combination for family portraiture!

My Favorite Phone Company

At seven years old, I had a favorite phone company. I am proud to say it was MCI. Square One TV was "brought to [my] television by generous funding from MCI, because they care[d] about the future." The message was reinforced each weekday at 3:55 when the show was wrapping up. After watching for a few weeks, I prepared to broach the subject of our long-distance carrier with my mother. Imagine my relief to hear MCI was already our phone company!

Then, years later, when they were now sponsoring Carmen Sandiego, my mom switched phone companies. It was less than a year later that MCI disappeared. I'm still rather disheartened about it all, particularly the loss of Square One.

indebtedness and hibernation

I can give. I can totally make cookies and casseroles; I can take pictures and babysit. But I can't handle the feeling of knowing how big I "owe" someone. The irony is, as we all know, that when you truly love someone, you never consider any of the giving you do. Never count it, never add it up, never keep track.

But, oh, the minute I owe someone. It's like a sticky note taped to the front of my brain. I count it and re-count it; add it and re-add it, repeatedly wondering how to make it up to them. Hypothetically speaking, how many chocolate melts do you give someone when you're gone an hour and a half longer than you said? And they have your child, and take her trick-or-treating to a Halloween party for you?

Oh, please, someone give me the correct answer. Because now every time I think about it (which, with the sticky note, is pretty often) I want to crawl under a chair and hibernate.

deserve an explanation

Yeah, so, about the whole picking-up-wherever-I-want business. I guess that means I should mention...

1. Scott's graduation: It was marvelous. Pictures to come.
2. Visit by the Weed clan: Also, quite marvelous. Not many pictures, unfortunately -- spent more time chatting.
3. Visit with the Grawrocks and new baby Gavin: A quick but very nice trip. That is one cute baby!
4. Scott's birthday: he's 29. Wow.
5. Uhhhh, I swear we did other stuff this summer. I'll get back to you on that.

Well, with that detailed update, I guess it's time to move on to an honest analysis of why I've been such a lazy blogger. And don't say you don't care. I know it keeps you up at night, so there's no point in pretending.

As the facts stand, life is rather hum-drum at the moment -- and that's putting it sweetly. I think I've mostly recovered from this funk, but it's been a Big, Bad Funk; and I've been wimpier than my usual flighty self. And more emotional.

Scott is currently using his master's degree to rock the world of Lindon's Home Depot. They pretty much take him for granted and pay him accordingly. I know it's not the end of the world, but after putting in 6 years of marriage and schooling I'd really planned on living ...anywhere but Provo. I'd planned on us working ...anywhere but Home Depot.

The Lord has consistently taken my plans, surpressed a laugh, and shown me a much better way for things to be. I have no doubt the same will happen again. But in the interim, my pride gets injured -- which I think is part of the Lord's agenda. I think I'm learning to be comfortable in the Lord's hands, to have peace in the waiting and that I am showing the greatest level of trust when I relax enough to be cheerful -- even if it's a rather determined cheerfulness.

So, sorry for my withdrawl. Going inside myself is the only place I felt comfortable finding strength. I believe there is greater strength in good, close associations coupled with solitude than in myself alone. But I have been wary to share, wary to trust. I don't think this is how the Lord would have me be. It's the only way I've known how to be. I hope to change this about myself, but I do think it's going to be quite the gradual change -- things like this don't happen over night, no matter how much I'd wish it so.

Diary of a Young Woman

Dedicated to my cute wife!

For those of you who do not know our story, I will give you a brief synopsis of how we met. My family moved into the same ward that Mickelle's family attended. The year was 1994, 4 days after Mickelle turned 12. With her Mom in Relief Society, my Mom in Young Women's and my Dad in the Bishopric, our two families were intertwined a bit. Mickelle had the same Sunday School class as my younger sisters - Kimmie and Kammie. Mickelle moved out of the ward in December 1996 and we thought it was good-bye.
In September 2002 we were reunited via our mutual friend Michele and I had no recollection of knowing the Costantinos. Long story short, I am still made fun of because each member in my family remembers Mickelle as a young woman and my memory starts when she is a grown woman.
In order to appease my curiosity as to what I am missing of the young Mickelle, I dug up her diaries and opened the book given to her by her Grandma Britt for Christmas 1994. On the first page is a note from Kimmie saying "You're a real good friend", next was Kammie's "You're the best in being nice", clear evidence that Kimmie and Kammie knew Mickelle and I was out of the loop.
As I continued to read my love for this dear cute Mickelle grew as I read of her growing personality and of her testimony. I will only share this one thing about it, as I am sure she will already be embarrassed that I am blogging about the young Mickelle: in March 1994 she was having a sleepover with her cousins during Spring break and she wrote "I went to bed, but being not tired and unable to turn on the light (Corey already asleep in Jodie's room, where I was) I prayed that the person's light in the backyard would come on. It Did! No Coincidence! Just more testimony"
I love that Mickella! She's darling!

it happens.

Sometimes you wait so long to post you don't want to deal with telling everybody everything that's happened.