Plan B Looks Like Domino's Pizza in the Candlelight

It was supposed to be a romantic evening for two.
I had big plans for Bryson & I this New Year's Eve... well, as big of plans as you can have when you're expecting twins and exhausted all the time. But, seriously, I was excited. The plan was that we'd get the kids good and tired during the day so we could put them to bed a little earlier, and then we'd break out the surf & turf for an excellent dinner to send 2009 off in style.

Only problem is, it didn't turn out that way.

By the time 4 pm rolled around, I was the one who was good and tired-- not the kids. They had been bickering all day, and refereeing their constant fighting left me completely zapped of all energy and emotionally drained. On top of it all, my back was killing me. Bryson wasn't faring much better, coming home exhausted after a long day trip for work to Hanksville (the middle of nowhere-- although I'm sure it's lovely...) and slightly ill from a lunch that didn't sit well.

We decided to throw in the towel.
Time to call Domino's.

As Bryson fixed the kids a pot of mac 'n' cheese to feed them in the meantime, I laid downstairs on the couch moping. Suddenly I felt a little brush against my cheek. I turned to find Taylor sitting next to me with my face in his hands, beaming a sweet little smile in my direction.

"Mom?" he said, "I think you're so beautiful. I'm sorry you don't feel well."

Well, be still my beating heart.

Could someone please remind me why I was feeling sorry for myself?

I snuggled him in close and gave him a big hug.
"Oh, Taylor," I responded, "I love you so much."
"I just love you so much, too, Mom." came the echoed reply.


Happy New Year, everyone.

Happy Happy

Through the day I relaxed indoors, enjoying the beauty and renewal of a freshly fallen snow.

Through that snowstorm Bryson came, bearing flowers & Indian cuisine from a favorite restaurant.
(Yummmm, lamb saag! But shhhhhh, don't tell Sheepie!)

Through that dinner Taylor & Reilly serenaded me with sweet little songs of celebration.
(If you haven't yet heard Reilly's rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"-- trust me, you're really missing out.)

Through that celebration we indulged on homemade chocolate-buttermilk cake with a surprise shot of peppermint-buttercream filling.

It wasn't fancy. It wasn't flashy. We even forgot the candles.
But honestly?
It was perfection, all the same.

Birthday Insomnia

I woke up this morning about 3:30 am with a lot on my mind. Happy Birthday to me!

Personally, I absolutely love the timing of my birthday. It falls just between Christmas and New Year's, and keeps the excitement & anticipation of the holiday season rolling along merrily. I tend to get quite reflective this time of year. Another Christmas has come and gone, with its focus (hopefully) on the Savior, and a new year is soon to dawn. While new year's resolutions are just on the horizon for most of the populace, I start pondering similar themes a few days early.

How am I doing? Where am I headed? What might I improve?
All questions keeping me awake at this hour instead of giving myself the gift of sleep.

Looking back, I can see the long journey that has brought me to the present moment in which I find myself. The obstacles overcome. The battles fought that have rounded out who I have come to be. The wounds and scars that unfortunately hold me back.

This year, I have become painfully aware of just how self-loathing I can be. When it comes to those around me, I tend to be compassionate, understanding, and willing to give most people the benefit of the doubt. When it comes to dealing with my own weaknesses and insecurities... well, let's just say I'm not nearly as kind.

Why is that?
When did I give permission to berate myself in this manner?
It's an interesting question.

But what is of even more importance is the follow-up question: What am I going to do about it?

Just a couple of days ago I was doing some reading and came across a quote by Neal A. Maxwell that rocked me to my core. He explained, "Brothers and sisters, our individual worth is already divinely established as 'great'; it does not fluctuate like the stock market." (“Consecrate Thy Performance,” Ensign, Dec 2008, 26–30) Now, I know full well that Elder Maxwell's words are far from new doctrine. We all know that the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. But something about his phraseology took me aback-- because while my self worth may not fluctuate in God's eyes, it most certainly does in my own. And that needs to change.

We will never walk perfectly in this lifetime. We are not even expected to. Mortality is a learning process, a growing experience. We stumble, we stammer, and sometimes we seriously crash and burn. But as long as we learn something from the ordeal, we have not yet failed. We have everything in the world to be joyful about. We know who we are and whose we are. Can we not show ourselves the same compassion and love we share with others?

I'm pretty certain it would be a step in the right direction.
For when we show ourselves forgiveness and mercy as we repent and strive to live uprightly, we also free ourselves to let our lights shine brighter to those around us. By releasing our self-imposed chains, we enable ourselves to move with clarity and love. We are unrestrained in giving service to those around us with peace and joy.

That's what I want this year for my birthday.

Life is so rich, and so very beautiful. Each moment given to us is a moment to treasure and grow from.
Men and women truly are that they might have joy.
And here we are!
♥

Overheard

(Eartha Kitt's vocals in the background...)

Reilly: Hee hee hee, Taylor, she's singing about Santa Baby!!!

Taylor: (matter-of-factly) Well, Reilly, he was a baby a lo-o-o-ong time ago.

Reilly: And then he grew up to be Santa!

Taylor: Yep!

Hot Cocoa Mix

I am a homemade hot chocolate convert.
There are few things better than relaxing with a hot mug of creamy, chocolate-y bliss.

After discovering that most store bought cocoas, including the best premium brands are incredibly refined-- taking pretty much all the good-for-you stuff out of the mix-- I decided to make my own. I figure, if you're going to indulge, you might as well have a reason to rationalize why you are actually drinking for your health! So, after about a year of tinkering around with my own personal preferences, here is the winning recipe. Kick back, relax, and think about all those wonderful flavonoids that are keeping you healthy. It also makes a cute gift wrapped in cellophane with the necessary marshmallow garnish-- Taylor & Reilly gave them to their preschool teachers & coaches this year.

Homemade Hot Cocoa

5 1/2 cups nonfat dry milk
2/3 cup vanilla sugar*
1/2 cup sucanat**
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa

1. Combine all ingredients; store in an airtight container.
2. To make cocoa, add approximately 1/3 cup to your favorite average-sized mug, fill with steaming hot water and stir well.

For a fun Christmas-y twist, you can substitute pulverized candy canes for some of the sugar-- yummy!

* To make vanilla sugar, slice open one (or more if you're a huge vanilla fan) vanilla bean and add to container of sugar, stirring up to combine. Let it sit for a few days. The seeds & pod from the vanilla will infuse the sugar with a nice hint of flavor. Or just use regular sugar if you're not feeling in a vanilla mood.
** You can find sucanat in just about any health food store as well as a few major chains, but you can always just substitute regular granulated sugar in its place, if desired.

The Light of Christmas

There is another glimpse of heaven that becomes easier to see at Christmastime. It is of light. Heavenly Father used light to announce the birth of His Son, our Savior (see Matthew 2; 3 Nephi 1). A new star was visible in both the Eastern and the Western Hemispheres. It led the Wise Men to the child in Bethlehem. Even wicked King Herod recognized the sign; he feared it because he was wicked. The Wise Men rejoiced because of the birth of the Christ, who is the Light and the Life of the World.

We remember at Christmastime not only the light that announced the birth of Christ into the world but also the light that comes from Him.

We can with confidence set a goal to make this Christmas brighter than the last and each year that follows brighter still. The trials of mortality may increase in intensity, yet for us, darkness need not increase if we focus our eyes more singly on the light that streams down on us as we follow the Master. He will lead us and help us along the path that leads upward to the home for which we yearn.

- Henry B. Eyring, “Home for Christmas,” Liahona, Dec 2009, 2–7

Silent Night

'Twas the night before Christmas,
And nary a peep
Was heard through the house--
Not even from Sheep.

Merry Christmas!
And God bless us, every one.

Priceless

A Christmas card from Taylor...
(with a little help from his teacher Miss Ashley)

Front: My mom makes us dinner.



Inside: Thank you, Mom for coming home. I like lunch. We put up the Christmas tree.

Love,
Taylor
(...spelled from right to left: rolyaT)

It All Keeps Adding Up

It is growing increasingly difficult for the kids to contain their excitement about Christmas. For the past couple of weeks they have been bouncing (sometimes literally) off the walls. Silliness has been taken to an entirely new level.

On one such afternoon recently, I decided to escape the noisy ruckus for a few precious moments of solitude. As I was enjoying the peace and quiet, Bryson poked his head in the room with a mischievous grin on his face.

"So... I think you may need to come take a look at your daughter," he explained.
Not quite ready to leave my cozy confines for the chaos I was certain to find, I complied with a sigh.
But after taking one look at Reilly twirling gleefully around the living room, I couldn't help but giggle.

"Ummmm, so does this mean I can technically refer to her as a basket case?" Bryson asked with a chuckle.


Only three more days 'til Christmas!

If You're Angel, Stop Reading This Now!

Everyone needs a cozy handmade afghan. 

It's simply just one of those crucial necessities of life-- particularly when you are coming home from a long day of snowboarding like my brother Rob and his wife Angel often do. So this year for Christmas, I decided to bestow one of those essential creations on my fabulous sister-in-law. I loved it so much, I thought I would share the pattern with you. It is incredibly easy, builds up quickly, and you can finish one of these babies in just a few days. Just pick three different (or not) colors of your favorite yarn-- I like using one multicolored skein with two different solid colors for fun little bursts of color throughout the entire project. So hanker on down on a nice comfortable sofa, put on It's a Wonderful Life, and soon you'll be wrapped up in one of these snuggable throws too!

Check it out here: http://www.lionbrand.com/patterns/80112AD.html
I followed the pattern exactly as written, with the exception of adding several additional rows to increase the total length, so my vertically blessed brother can enjoy it as well-- without having his long legs & feet stick out the end!

'Tis the season for warm cuddles on snowy nights.

The Redemption of Ebenezer Scrooge

"Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead," said Scrooge. "But if the courses be departed from, the ends will change. Say it is thus with what you show me!"

... For the first time the hand appeared to shake.

"Good spirit," he pursued, as down upon the ground he fell before it: "your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life!"

The kind hand trembled.

"I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!"

Holding up his hands in a last prayer to have his fate reversed, he saw an altercation in the phantom's hood and dress. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost.

YES! and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the Time before him was his own to make amends in!

"I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future!" Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. "The spirits of all Three shall strive within me. Oh Jacob Marley! Heaven, and the Christmas Time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob; on my knees!"

-- Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Diplomat

It's always a dicey situation when you send your firecracker of a little boy over to a friend's house for a play date. Knowing how Taylor and Reilly tend to resolve their issues by screaming louder than should be humanly possible, it is only understandable that I should be slightly nervous about any sharing issues that might arise outside of our own home with someone else's children.

Brady & Taylor have known each other since their nursery days in church. They go way back. In fact, their friendship got off to a less than auspicious start when Taylor had to be transferred into a different class because the two of them kept getting into fist fights. Ah, memories. Now that they are older and wiser, however, they have become good buddies and have a blast together, without resorting to violence. You only have to mention the mere possibility of going over to Brady's house to Taylor to see immediate behavioral modification for the better.

But having witnessed how that behavior typically changes in the midst of a heated sharing debate, I had my doubts about the longevity of Taylor's angelic conduct while away from home. So with a deep breath and a kiss for luck, I sent him out the door, hoping that something I taught him about politeness and friendship had stuck.

A couple hours later, he arrived back home.

"How did he do?" I asked my friend, hoping the news wouldn't cause me to cringe too badly.
"Oh, they did great! We did have one little sharing issue that came up..."
(Cue the mental cringe.)
"Brady didn't want to share something Taylor really wanted to play with... But you know how sometimes kids say things that you know must come from their parents?..."
(Cue the impending stomachache.)
"Well, he said something that was so funny. He looked at Brady and said, 'Come here, Brady, and let's talk about this.' And it all turned out okay."
(Wait. What?)

No screaming? No tantrum? No flailing about?
My little firecracker is growing up.

Now Bring Us Some Figgy Pudding

It's another Christmas miracle!

Okay, well as far as a miracle goes... probably not so much. But seriously now, ask Bryson what my track record with houseplants is and you'll find that maybe "miracle" isn't too far off the mark after all.

A few years ago I whimsically decided that I really wanted to grow figs. So I did some research and ordered a cute little tree-- a variety that grows quite happily in a large pot-- from my favorite nursery for fruit and other edibles. It arrived shortly thereafter, and ever since it has been my constant companion in my exceptionally cluttered office. (New Year's Resolution #1: Learn to keep office organized.) Now, as I explained earlier on in my post, I am horrible at keeping houseplants alive. Outdoors? Great. No problem. Indoors? Well, let's just say that my green thumb dies a slow and painful death.

But somehow, the fig has hung in there despite periods of painful neglect. It enjoys plenty of western sunlight in the warmest room in the house, and as long as I remember to water it a couple times a month it keeps on trucking. It is my greatest houseplant success story. Honestly, I have been so incredibly proud simply that I haven't managed to kill this poor little tree-- my hopes for a fig crop on top of everything else were minuscule in comparison.

But this afternoon as I walked into my office, something on my little tree caught my attention. I looked closer and couldn't believe what I saw. Little green figs growing right before my eyes!!! I am so giddy right now, it's ridiculous. Perhaps there is hope for my houseplant ambitions after all.

Fresh figs.
I am already considering the culinary possibilities.
Huzzah!

Best Christmas Gift Ever

Well, the verdict is in.
Yesterday morning we went in for our 20 week sonogram. For weeks I had been counting down the days. I was dealing with much anxiety, so much anticipation throughout the past couple of months wanting to know just how the little ones were doing and growing.

So far, so good!
Both twins look absolutely perfect and healthy, and really, that's all that matters.

For a while, we weren't certain if we would be able to learn the sex of the babies-- they are snuggled in quite cozily with their legs pressed up against their tiny bodies. We had a few modesty issues to deal with. But the sonographer was finally able to coax them to move a bit so we could get the scoop on the news everyone seems to want to know.

So, without further ado, we are happy to announce that we are having...
(drumroll, please)
A boy... AND a girl!

Needless to say, everyone is thrilled.

One of the best parts for me was being able to tell Taylor & Reilly that they were expecting both a baby sister & a baby brother. I picked Taylor up from his preschool Christmas party and told him as we were loading into the car.

"So, Taylor," I asked, "You know how Mommy went to the doctor today?"
"Yes."
"Well, today the doctor was able to take some pictures inside Mommy's tummy to see what the babies are."
"Oh! What are they Mommy? Is there a brother?"
"You are going to have a baby sister... and a baby brother!"
"A brother! A brother! I'm going to have a baby brother! I'm going to have a baby brother! I always wanted a brother! I'm going to have a baby brother!"

He is pretty excited.
And I'm certain he will love his baby sister just as much.

After picking Taylor up, we drove over to my friend Dana's house where Reilly was being tended. (Thanks a million, Dana!) Armed with my ultrasound pictures in tow, I started giving Reilly the same spiel about my doctor's visit. When I told her about the pictures of the babies, I asked her (rhetorically) if she knew what they were. She looked up at me without batting an eye.

"It's a boy and a girl," she explained, as if it were perfectly obvious.
"Ummm, well, yes-- you're absolutely right," I said rather anticlimactically. I was at a complete loss for words.

Later that day I tried again to explain the news again to her, unsure if she really grasped that we did, in fact, know the sex of the babies. Once more I received the same answer, this time with an accompanying look that suggested that I clearly wasn't as bright as I looked.

"Yes, Mom. It's a boy and a girl!" she replied with a twinge of exasperation.
I guess she really has known all along. Far be it from me to question her understanding again. Sometimes I forget just how close to heaven little ones can be. I am so grateful to a loving and gracious Father in Heaven who is an active participant in our lives and knows us better than we know ourselves.

Our little family brings me the greatest joy I could have ever imagined for myself. I am so completely and utterly in love with my husband & children. Life is just so sweet.

I think Christmas has come early this year.

Hoofin' It

"1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8..."
Reilly was counting aloud.

I listened, assuming she was simply practicing her number skills.
But then came another familiar voice...

"Mom? I only have eight toes!" squeaked Sheepie.

"Eight toes?" I asked, playing along. "Really, Sheepie? You have eight toes?"

"Yes! Reilly counted them for me."

"Oh my!" I smiled back at them.

There was a pause... and then a most concerned reply.

"Something is wrrronnnnnnng with me!"


Perhaps Sheepie has figured out that she isn't quite as human as the rest of her family after all.

Grateful

I haven't taken many photos of myself during this pregnancy, but yesterday I figured it was probably about time. Believe it or not, we've approached the 20 week mark already. Half way to the home stretch for a singleton... Only 16 more weeks to go for the average twin pregnancy.

My friends from the motherland have been encouraging me for a while to post a much-anticipated belly shot, so after church I had Bryson break out the camera. After snapping a few pictures, he turned it back over to me. "Very nice," he commented.

I was a little skeptical.
"Did any of them turn out okay?" I asked.

He just looked at me and smiled.
"Check them out for yourself," was his reply.

Well, I did just that.
Honestly, it took me a little aback.

For the past few weeks now, I've had people tell me that I've been looking really good this pregnancy-- but I really haven't believed them much. It's not that I think they've been lying to me, but more that everyone is just being incredibly nice and polite. But here, now, with the proof before me, I had to stop for a moment.

"Wow," I thought, "I do look pretty good this time around."
(If I may say so myself.)

With my last two pregnancies, I avoided the camera at all cost. I don't really consider myself a vain person, but the resulting photographs were just too painful to look at. Preclampsia was not kind to my body, causing me to gain weight rapidly and swell throughout my body. The pictures from my brother's wedding in 2006 are especially difficult for me to revisit, as I can all too plainly see how badly I was starting to swell up, even in my face. It was soon after our return home from California that I was put on restrictive bed rest. (But isn't that a cute little bugger I've got in my arms?)

This pregnancy has been so different.
Yes, I was pretty sick for the first little while, but not nearly as long as I was with Taylor & Reilly. Yes, I have been dealing with exhaustion and sciatica daily-- but I will take that any day compared to the difficulties we faced prior to this.

I have been healthy. I have been active. My blood pressure has stayed nearly the same as my pre-pregnancy levels. I haven't yet experienced any swelling. All of this, even though the preclampsia odds are stacked against me-- as it is even more common in twin pregnancies.

I am grateful.

I feel like we have been carried through this experience on the wings of something greater than us all. And while I learned many important lessons through our previous trials, I am so thankful that I don't have to relive the same ones over again this time around.

So I've decided to stop hiding from the camera so much.
Helllooooooo, Mama.

And while I've still got the April 2006 picture archives open...


This is what makes it all worthwhile.

Comfy Cozy

I think all of this could be my own fault.

It started with one extra blanket one cold evening. Worried that Reilly would be just a little too cold at night, I brought in a nice thick quilt to put over her comforter for added warmth. She loved it.

Apparently a little too much.

A couple of nights later I discovered a second blanket in the room. Then a third.
I didn't think too much about it.

But after the kids had been put to bed one evening, Bryson & I became increasingly aware of Reilly's door repeatedly opening... then closing. At first I thought she was simply having a tough time winding down for the night, but then a new awareness slowly dawned on me. We walked toward her bedroom door and entered the room to discover our princess casually lounging about... with more than a dozen blankets-- and one large corduroy slipcover-- gracing her bed.


Ever since, the Battle of the Blankets has been raging covertly in Reilly's bedroom. Blankets are neatly stacked back into the linen closet-- only to be sneaked back out in the dark hours of the night. High shelves have been employed to (theoretically) keep the cozy desirables out of reach of little ones' hands-- only to spur our little soldier onward to an impressive feat of closet climbing.

But... I suppose there are worse things in life to wrestle over.
At least I don't have to worry about her being cold anymore.

Lessons We Can All Learn From Buddy the Elf

Taylor: Mom, do you want to know something about raccoons?

Me: Sure, Taylor, what is it?

Taylor: We don't give raccoons hugs, Mom...
I don't think it's a good idea.

Thank you, Will Ferrell.

(photo by New Line Cinemas)

Winter Wonderland

When the storm came through this past week, our to-do list decided to go on vacation.

It was one of those magical snowstorms-- you know, the ones you used to pray for when you were a kid. Pristine, soft powder blanketed the valley and just cried out for a moment of pause. This was no time to spend out on the town, fighting the Christmas shopping crowds or the icy roads for that matter.

Rather than fight against nature, we opted to embrace it instead. Only venturing out for preschool & a couple household necessities, we have spent the last several days celebrating winter.

Kids were bundled up to play to their hearts content in the snowy drifts until cold little hands and toes simply couldn't take it anymore. Once inside, it was only right that we warm up with a pot of homemade hot cocoa-- complete with the mandatory marshmallows on top.

It was a time to snuggle under warm afghans and watch Christmas movies. To sew cozy flannel pajamas. To throw together homey dishes like our favorite butternut squash & bacon casserole.



All those errands that seemed enormously important just a few days ago?
Well, I'm sure we'll manage somehow.

Magical days like these just beg to be savored.

Daddy's Girl

"Mom? I want to be a daddy when I grow up," Reilly declared, as if she had been preparing this announcement for quite some time.

"Oh, honey," I explained, "Only boys can grow up to be daddies. Girls can grow up to be mommies, though. Maybe one day you will be a mommy like me."

She thought it over for a few moments, then smiled sweetly up at me.

"Mom?" she asked, "Will you turn me into a boy so I can be a daddy when I grow up?"

Bittersweet Birthday

"I am so grateful for the assurance I have that if we are faithful, the same sociality which we enjoy here in this life will be forever with us in the world to come, in eternal glory."

President Henry B. Eyring, “The True and Living Church,” Ensign, May 2008, 20–24 (see also D&C 130:2)


Warm thoughts & birthday wishes are with Ryan this weekend-- today is his birthday, and tomorrow is Jen's.

We miss you, Jen!
Somehow, going to see the lights at Temple Square this time of year will never quite be the same. There are so many things I wish I could share with you-- so much to catch up on. I wish I could ask you how it was to be an auntie to triplets, now that we have our own set of multiples on the way. I miss the late-night laughter, the heart-to-heart conversations. I hope you know how much your friendship meant to me and the girls. Thanks be to God that there is so much more beyond this life.

"With ultimate hope, however, we can live cheerfully amid proximate insecurity. Life is a test in which man must overcome by faith, walking on the strait and narrow path—which is surely no escalator—but the path is there! And death is not the permanent annihilation of the human personality and individuality! [It] is a mere comma, not an exclamation point!"Elder Neal A. Maxwell, “‘Shine As Lights in the World’,” Ensign, May 1983, 9

This Christmastime, I am most grateful for our Lord & Savior who marked the path and showed us the way to an eternity filled with joy, love, and family. This life is not the end. What greater gift could be given?

Happy Birthday, Ryan & Jen.
xoxo

Paleontology Lesson

The other day I took Taylor to the store for a special treat. Having helped his dad clean old frozen tomatoes from the garden, he had earned one whole dollar for his hard work. After paying his tithing, he decided to supplement his earnings with a few more cents from his penny jar so he could afford a new dinosaur for his collection.

After we had dropped Reilly off at preschool, the two of us perused through the different species until he had settled on one in particular.

"Mom," he asked, "what dinosaur is this?"
"Hmmmmm..." I replied, "Well, it kind of looks like a Velociraptor, but I'm not sure."

I flipped the toy over to see what species we had acquired.

Deinonychus.
Super.

"Ummmm," I stumbled, "I think it's a dye-on-NYE-kiss? Something like that?"

Taylor looked at the dinosaur, and then looked back at me.

"Mom," he chastised, "It's a dye-NON-ik-kuss. It means 'terrible claw.' "

Of course it does.
Because there's nothing quite like a four-year-old talking about dinosaurs to make you feel intellectually challenged.

Double Vision

"You're measuring quite a bit larger than we would expect this far along in your pregnancy," the doctor assessed. "I think we'll schedule you for an ultrasound to check if our dates might be off... or we may have to consider the possibility of more than one baby."

My eyes widened, and I couldn't help the nervous laughter that escaped at his pronouncement.
You see, I was pretty sure our dates were correct. Back when we were expecting Taylor & Reilly, our dates were guesswork at best. We never really had an accurate due date with either of them until after our first ultrasounds. However, this time around I was almost academic in recording dates and cycles. I knew the dates couldn't be off-- at least by much. Which left... wait-- did he just say more than one baby?

A little more than 24 hours later Bryson & I met with the ultrasound tech to find out exactly what was going on. There were three outcomes I was mentally preparing myself for:
1. The dates really WERE off, and I seriously needed to go back to school for some remedial math lessons,
2. Something was wrong with the pregnancy,
or...
3. There really was more than one baby on its way.

It didn't take long at all the learn the truth. Literally a second after the tech put the wand on my abdomen they both popped up on the screen in profile. Clear as day.

"Oh my gosh!" I stammered before our sonographer could even say a word.
She grinned, "Do you see what I see?"
Bryson simply stared at the screen and squeezed my hand gently, then turned to me with an expression of both shock and excitement-- an expression that I'm quite certain was mirrored on my own face.

Twins.
Seriously?

Well, as my friend Mistie joked, "I guess that's what you get for listening to things you feel in the temple!"

So many emotions flooded my heart all at once. Surprise, disbelief, anxiety, excitement... and pure unabashed love. Watching those two little ones on the screen filled my heart with humility and awe. To understand that God was trusting these two precious children to our care was unbelievably overwhelming. To realize that my deep heartfelt desire to have four children bless our family was coming to pass-- especially when I had just started to give up hope and accept that my body most likely would not be able to handle yet another pregnancy-- caused me to break down in tears.

So while I am completely overwhelmed and unsure of how this is all going to work out, I know that we will find our way. Because we are not alone. We are never alone.

And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Well, Hello There!

It has been nigh unto two months since I last posted-- at least so I've been reminded.

Honestly now...
Where has the time gone?

Oh yeah, into growing babies.
Yep, that's right.
I said babies. (As in plural.)

But more on that tomorrow.


October and November, with all their accompanying highs and lows have drawn to a close. As much as I will cherish the good memories (attending a session of General Conference, Halloween, spending time with family, Thanksgiving...) I can't say that I'm disappointed to leave the dark haze of "morning" sickness behind. For the first time in many, many weeks I actually am feeling a return to clarity. A return to feeling more myself.

Hallelujah.
I'm back.

Did you guys see Nie on Oprah yesterday?
I was so moved. Bawled my eyes out. Her story never fails to remind me of the important things in life. I am hugging my little ones a little tighter.

If you missed it, check out a clip here. It's well worth it.
Or come on over to my place-- it'll probably be on my DVR for a long time to come.
(Just warn me first-- the first trimester has not been kind to my poor neglected house!)

Thanks, Stephanie, for sharing your light with the rest of us.
Truly, thank you.

Great Expectations

No, it's not just the title of the novel I'm currently reading-- although that's a happy coincidence, huh?
The big news around our little home these days is that baby no. 3 is happily on his or her way to join our family.

This was not a simple decision to make for Bryson and I. You see, pregnancy and I are not on very good terms. Oh, we try to be civil to one another... but the truth is-- it really hates my guts. After two complicated pregnancies--with the most recent pretty much rendering me useless for half of the nine months-- trying for a third has been a matter of deep contemplation... and avoidance.

The last couple of years have been some of the best of my life. I feel like I am finally starting to come into my own, to learn to love myself (imperfections and all) instead of picking myself apart-- as is my deeply rooted perfectionistic tendency. During this time I regained my health, stretched myself to achieve goals I never thought I would have been able to reach, and in the process feel that I have really grown physically, creatively, and spiritually. I have become perfectly content with the status quo, and probably a little too complacent.

We already knew that our family wasn't complete. We knew that there was at least one more little spirit meant to bless our family. I was excited to bring another baby into our lives. I just didn't want to go through the pregnancy part. I have been stalling. I have set many dates as a benchmark for "when we would start trying," only to hem and haw when that time rolled around and consequentially set a new date. It's not that I was just being selfish (although I will readily admit there was a little of that too)... I was genuinely worried and even a little frightened about what a new pregnancy might do to our family and my body.

All of this came to a head this summer when our family attended the Oquirrh Mountain Temple open house. It was an amazing experience to take Taylor & Reilly through the temple with us (along with some Catholic friends of ours) and share the special spirit that can only be found there. As our family entered one of the sealing rooms, we took a moment to look into the mirrors all together and see our reflections echo on forever. As I stood there with my family and soaked in that beautiful spirit, I knew it was time. I felt strongly prompted that I needed to pull myself together and trust in God's plan for us.

However, as time went on (and I'm talking hours here, not days...) I had rationalized myself back to my date-postponing ways. Chatting with Bryson later that afternoon, I mentioned that I thought I would be ready to try for a new baby at the beginning of this upcoming year. Several months away.
Bryson frowned a little as he drove and said, "Really? I was kind of thinking that now was the right time. We'll certainly do whatever you feel is best, but that's just the impression I had in the temple."
I groaned inwardly.
"You felt that too?" I said a little shamefully. "Well, if the time is right now, then I guess we'd better take Heavenly Father's advice to heart."

And just a few short weeks later, here we are.

I wish I could tell you that this pregnancy has been nothing but sunshine and roses, but that's not the case. It has been difficult, but we have been blessed all the same. The nausea, which was so overwhelming in my prior pregnancies, is still very much present-- but has been greatly lessened in intensity. Throwing up multiple times a day is not the norm. While before I could barely get out of bed in the morning for fatigue and queasiness, I am now at my best in the morning when I need to take care of my kids and get them to school on time. I am still constantly exhausted, but I find myself struggling most in the evenings-- by which time Bryson has arrived home to help lessen the load. These have been small but significant blessings that tell me that the Lord is looking out for us, and that He is happy we decided to listen to the Spirit-- despite my initial misgivings.

I am so grateful for a loving Father in Heaven who knows us better than we knows ourselves. I am thankful for His confidence in me, even when I have little to none in myself. He is mindful of us, and He knows our needs.

Here's hoping the third time's the proverbial charm!

Huh?

Taylor: Mom, do you know why I'm a little mean sometimes?

Me: (bracingly) Ummmm, why?

Taylor: Because I'm allergic to cats.


Okaaaaaaay....

New York. London. Utah.

While driving after picking Reilly up from preschool, I decided to take the long way home. The interstate was backlogged due to some construction traffic, and given the option of moving at 10 mph on the freeway or taking a longer route through the countryside... Well, let's just say that I will pick the country roads every time, even if it ends up taking longer.

I love living in the country. It is something I never pictured myself doing, having grown up on the outskirts of Chicago and seeing myself (then) as a city girl for life. I love so many things about city life. The culture, the architecture, the food, the pulse that you can almost feel in the air. When I look back on my favorite memories from my high school years-- so many of them involve taking the train downtown with my friends, whether it was to hit the beach or spend an afternoon soaking in the beauty at the Art Institute. It's funny how life's twists and turns can lead you to places you never anticipated, and yet are simply meant to be.

As I took the old Arrowhead trail back into town with the kids, I reveled in the scenery around me. Old farmhouses, windmills, greenhouses, horses & cows, fields as far as the eye could see-- all majestically framed by the spectacular mountain splendor.

"I love living in the country," I suddenly blurted out to Taylor & Reilly. "Isn't it beautiful here?"
"Yes, Mom, I like the country too!" Taylor agreed.
"Did you know that Mom used to live by a really big city when she was little?" I continued, "With lots of really tall buildings and trains..."
"And airplanes and cars?" Taylor interrupted.
"Yep." I replied. "I really loved living by the city, but you know... I think I love living in the country even more."
"I love the country too, Mom," he replied.
"Me too!" chimed Reilly.

As we rounded the turn off the old country road and came into town, I could tell Taylor was recognizing the familiar surroundings. I looked at our little downtown with new eyes, seeing the wonderful old brick stores, the park with its amphitheater, the old homes with their beautiful gardens exploding with the produce of Indian Summer.

"Do you know where we are, Taylor?" I asked.

"Yes, Mom...
ummmmmmm...Paris!" came the response.

Well, in his defense, both cities do begin with a P at least.

After I stopped laughing and corrected him, I couldn't help but look around again.
Architecture, culture, food? And more importantly, a community of neighbors that truly looks out for and loves one another?

We've got it all right here.

Paris has got nothing on us.

More Thoughts On Faith

Desire is a particle of faith that develops within us as we experience divine truth. It is like spiritual photosynthesis. The influence of the Holy Ghost, acting on the Light of Christ within every human being, produces the spiritual equivalent of a chemical reaction—a stirring, a change of heart, or a desire to know. Hope develops as particles of faith become molecules and as simple efforts to live true principles occur.

As patterns of obedience develop, the specific blessings associated with obedience are realized and belief emerges. Desire, hope, and belief are forms of faith, but faith as a principle of power comes from a consistent pattern of obedient behavior and attitudes. Personal righteousness is a choice. Faith is a gift from God, and one possessed of it can receive enormous spiritual power.

(Kevin W. Pearson, “Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ,” Ensign, May 2009, 38–40)

Small and Simple Things

Truly, God answers prayers.
And not just the big ones.

One of my personal goals in life is to rely more on my Heavenly Father and to understand more fully the promptings of the Spirit. It is most definitely a work in progress. I have learned to act on certain feelings and impressions I have concerning friends and family-- although I wouldn't have necessarily considered them inspiration at the time-- and through these experiences have become increasingly aware that the Holy Ghost speaks to our hearts much more often than we might think.

Over the past few months I have tried to seek out a little more time for quiet meditation-- to turn off the TV, computer, music (that is a tough one for me!) and just reflect. I'm not always consistent with it, and I'm definitely not great at it, but over time it has made a considerable difference in my life.

This year there have been a lot of things to pray about on the grand scale. A dying friend. A newborn nephew's struggles. A beloved aunt having heart surgery. A favorite uncle suffering a horrible spiral break of his arm in a freak accident. A sister getting married. A horseback riding accident that seriously injured my mom. It is easy to pray when the heavy trials of life come knocking. Our faith tells us that God will hear our prayers during these times of adversity. But-- for me at least-- sometimes it is difficult to remember that God stands ready to answer all our prayers. Even the seemingly insignificant ones.

Last week we had the misfortune of Sheepie going missing again. (Yes, again.) It was late. I was not feeling well and was completely drained of all energy. Reilly was beside herself with grief for her missing friend, and Bryson could not find her anywhere despite his extensive search efforts both within and outside the house. He crashed on the couch, telling me that he simply couldn't look anymore. There was nothing left in the tank. He put Reilly to bed without Sheepie, and she continued to cry inconsolably in her room. I knew we would be in for a long night if we were unable to locate her. To complicate matters further, the next day promised to be long and hectic even without a broken night's sleep. Not finding Sheepie just wasn't an option this night.

Feeling slightly silly but not knowing what other options we had, I took to my knees. I prayed for the insight to find Sheepie. Afterward I got to my feet and instantly knew she was in Bryson's & my room somewhere. I had felt that impression previously, but now the thought was all-consuming. I knew she was in our room. I walked in our bedroom and immediately my eyes were drawn to Bryson's laptop briefcase. I couldn't help laughing to myself as I unzipped one of the compartments and rescued the poor, trapped Sheepie. It was just so like Reilly to put her in a small zippered compartment (purses are one of her favorite hiding spots), but we would have never checked the laptop case in a million years. The kids *never* touch it. We had walked past it several times in our previous searches.

After that evening, I pretty much learned my lesson. Our Heavenly Father is mindful of us, and knows our needs-- even the small heartfelt desires of a little child. So when the same thing happened just a couple nights later, my faith was already in place. After we did all that we could do, I said another simple prayer on Reilly's behalf. However, this time I didn't get an impression of where Sheepie was; only that I needed to do a load of laundry. Tired and grumpy, I had no desire to do laundry-- and did not grasp the concept that my stray thought just might be related to the ongoing search for Sheepie. We went to bed. Just after midnight, I awoke to Reilly's cry for her beloved friend. She went back to sleep on her own after a couple minutes, but I was left wide awake. I could not sleep. After deciding that lying in the dark staring at the ceiling was pretty pointless, I got up. I decided to get that load of laundry in the washer while I was at it. After the cycle was over, I opened up the washer, and much to my chagrin discovered Sheepie right on top of the clothing. I still have no idea when or how she arrived at that location.

Faith isn't something that has come easily to me all the time. I have a tendency to over-think, over-analyze, and rationalize that my emotions are just messing around with me. I wish I were more like Bryson, whose faith is an unshakable gift. I have difficulty not knowing all the answers to the questions that perplex me. It has taken practice to let go of that and simply hold on to the seed of faith.

I have a deeper appreciation for the words of Alma:

Now, as I said concerning faith—that it was not a perfect knowledge—even so it is with my words. Ye cannot know of their surety at first, unto perfection, any more than faith is a perfect knowledge.
But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words.
Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.(Alma 32: 26-28)


In today's society, it can be easy to dismiss God as an active participant in our lives. Some even doubt whether He exists at all. Religion is rejected as merely the opiate of the masses, and spiritual experience is believed to be nothing but a series of chemical reactions in the brain. However, I truly believe if even the smallest part of you wants to believe in Him-- if you work at it-- you can feel His continual presence in your life. Faith will replace doubt, and His love will flood every aspect of your life. Even the small and simple parts.

Take it from someone who's been there.

What I Did Over My Summer Vacation, Part 4

We encouraged.
We coaxed.
We begged.
We pleaded.
We bribed.
We threatened.

Nothing was enticing Reilly to abandon her diapers and start learning to use the potty. We tried just about every method in the book, and still there was nothing to show for our efforts except complete apathy on her part. Normally I wouldn't have sweated it, but preschool was starting just around the corner and because she was so excited to attend I was growing increasingly anxious about getting this developmental milestone taken care of. (Not to mention the sizable registration & supply fee I had already plopped down to reserve her spot.)

We read books, we made sticker charts, we gave rewards. We even watched "Elmo's Potty Time" ad nauseum. (Heaven help us all.)



Small successes were quickly followed by long periods of complete disregard for anything to do with the potty. I tried my best to stay upbeat and positive, but the façade was quickly crumbling away. I was certain we'd just have to put off preschool and gymnastics lessons for a few months-- which wouldn't have been such a big deal for me, but would have been an enormous disappointment to Reilly, who had been looking forward to it for months.

Then one day while we were out shopping, I had a sudden stroke of insight.

"Reilly," I asked, "Would you like a pair of big girl Cinderella underwear?"
"Yes!"
We walked over to the underwear display and I paused.
"Are you sure? Hmmmmmmm... I don't know..." I mused. "Only big girls that use the potty every time can have Cinderella underwear."
"I will use the potty, Mom. I promise."
"Well... I suppose... Okay."
The ear-to-ear grin that followed told me I must be on to something.

We took the prized princess panties home and immediately put the ones with Cinderella up on a shelf for her to use when she began to use the potty habitually.

And a few short weeks later-- success!!!
We still have our accidents from time to time, but honestly-- the difference has been night and day.

I guess sometimes it's just all about the clothes.

Of Siblings & Sheepies

As much as our family has welcomed Sheepie into our family with open arms, well... sometimes there's just a time and a place when we'd like Reilly all to ourselves.

To illustrate, just the other day our family had packed up our bags and were making the long drive up to Grandpa Bob & Grandma Brandy's home for a visit. As Bryson & I were carrying on a conversation in the front of the vehicle, we became increasingly aware of a heated discussion taking place behind us between Taylor... and Sheepie.

Reilly had Sheepie placed prominently in front of her face and was refusing to speak in a voice other than the high-pitched squeak we have come to affectionately recognize. Taylor, wanting only to talk to his sister, was quickly growing impatient with talking to a small stuffed piece of grey fluff.

"Sheepieeeeeeeee! I want to talk to Reilly!"

"No!"

"Sheepie! Please, I want to talk to Reeeeeeeeiiiillllllllyeeeeeee!"

"No!"

This dialogue was repeated multiple times in multiple variations before I intervened, asking them to please stop arguing with one another.

"Okay," squeaked Sheepie.

Taylor glowered into her beady little eyes.

"Sheepie," he muttered venomously, "go back to the barn."


Sometimes a boy just needs his sister.
♥

What I Did Over My Summer Vacation, Part 3

I went a little canning crazy in the kitchen-- and the end of this self-afflicted madness is still nowhere in sight.

The tally so far...

Endless varieties of jam:
(So many recipes... so little time!)
Strawberry-Rhubarb, Apricot, Strawberry-Vanilla, Raspberry Mango, Apricot Currant, Blueberry Lime, Blackberry (over 70 half pints in total!)

Two kinds of conserve:
Blueberry Citrus & Chocolate Raspberry

Several pints of Blackberry pie filling

And the dawn is just breaking on the peak tomato season! Salsa & pizza sauce only mark the beginning of another month of tasty offerings to be created.

Ahhhhhh.
Exhaustion is inescapable, but oh-so-worth it.

Finding Hope

Remembering all that we stand for this Patriot Day...

Hail the Conquering Hero

Success!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One Eternal Round

Is it possible that my baby sister has been married a month?

Participating in their beautiful wedding and being a witness to the happiness & love that they have for one another will be a memory that I will treasure always. There was such beauty and peace surrounding the temple marriage-- coupled also with the most exquisite feeling of pure joy.

As our family walked the grounds in Salt Lake, it struck me that the first time Bryson & I had the pleasure of attending a sealing at that beautiful, historic temple was for our friends Jen and Ryan. The impact of that realization momentarily took my breath away as I allowed myself to miss my friend. And yet, a more powerful and urgent feeling of tranquility followed as I felt the reassurance of the Spirit. The family is eternal. Is there anything more glorious than that knowledge?

I am so grateful for the blessings of the temple and the experiences I have had therein. And to watch my sister and her devoted husband enter into the same sacred covenants for time and all eternity-- few things compare.

As I said before:
Pure joy.

Rock 'n' Roll Princess

For Taylor, Reilly, and I, music is simply one of life's imperatives.

Riding in the car, it is rare that we don't have the radio playing-- with at least one of us singing along wholeheartedly.
However, it must be said that our taste does vary considerably.

Taylor, for example, gets a kick out of jingles and radio promo songs.
One of his current favorites is a commercial for a used car company that rips off the "Brady Bunch" theme song.

I can't stand it.

The other day it came on, and I quickly changed the station.
I just couldn't take it anymore.

"Moooooom," Taylor complained,
"Turn it BAAAACK! I like that song!!!"

But Reilly quickly protested.

"No!!!!
Don't change this song!
I LOVE this song!!!"
I listened to what was currently playing.
I couldn't help chuckling to myself.

"Really, Reilly?" I asked, "You like this song?"

"Yes, Mom," she replied. "This song is just perfect!"

Green Day.
21 Guns.





Well, now.

Rock on, Reilly.
Rock on.

Semantics

Bryson: Taylor, you are growing like a weed!!!

Taylor: Daaaaaad, I'm NOT a weed!

Bryson: I didn't say you were a weed. I said you were growing like a weed. It's a simile.

Taylor: Dad. I am NOT silly.

What I Did Over My Summer Vacation, Part 2

We spent a sunny Saturday morning enjoying the sights, sounds, & tastes of the local farmers' market.

Fresh artisanal breads, raw local honey, French crepes stuffed with strawberries and nutella, old-fashioned rootbeer, handmade lollipops, little turkey chicks, live music, and lots of time to climb and play on the jungle gym.

A perfect way to spend a (rare) lazy summer day.

Ummmm...
Did I mention the crepes?



Heaven.