Together

It should probably be said that Reilly is her Daddy's little girl.  She absolutely adores her father and savors every moment that they are able to share together.

She has even adopted a little mantra when it comes to all things Daddy:
"I go where you go."

Whether it's doing chores, visiting neighbors, or just hanging around the house, when Bryson asks Reilly what she would like to do, the answer is always the same.

I go where you go.

But over the weekend, a complication was encountered.

Bryson, being a cycling enthusiast, decided to go for a ride.  After an intense workout he returned to the house and asked Taylor if he would like to join him for his cool down around the neighborhood.  Taylor, being quite the biker himself, quickly agreed and raced upstairs to join his daddy.

Reilly followed.

"Dad," she pleaded, "I want to come too!"

This was a problem.

You see, for the past year Reilly has fought against learning to ride her bike.  She took a slight spill several months ago, and has adamantly refused to continue learning ever since.  Her only mode of transportation currently involves her small pink scooter, with which she is honestly just as fast as she is on foot.  Bryson, who struggles to slow down enough to have Taylor join him could not possibly involve Reilly in their ride on her little scooter.  She would be left alone in the dust.

His face fell as Reilly looked up at him with those big trusting eyes.

"I'm sorry, Reilly," he explained, "but you won't be able to keep up with us on your scooter.  Maybe we can practice riding your bike later after we get back.  But for right now you're going to have to stay here with Mom and the twins."

She became crestfallen.
"But Dad," she exclaimed, "I go where you go!  I go where you go!"

It was a pretty heart-wrenching sight.
And as I wrapped my arms around her and wiped away her tears, I started thinking.

On our journey here through mortality, we lean on one another quite frequently.  This is particularly true with members of our family, with whom we anticipate spending all of eternity.  As children, we learn and grow under the tutelage of our parents, experiencing life's lessons in a somewhat protected environment.  But sooner or later, we all have to spread our wings and develop our own independent strength and knowledge.

If we don't put in the work to learn, be it things secular or spiritual, we will eventually get left behind.  There are some things that simply cannot be done for us.  And there is no amount of love that can "fix" the situation when those moments come.  If we are not prepared, if we have not prioritized our lives properly, we will be too late.

As a mom, I realized that day that it is imperative that I prepare my children for a future where they can stand ready for whatever life throws at them.

Because when that day comes, I don't want to hear the same heartbreaking cry that I heard recently from my sweet little daughter.  I want to be able to face the moment with our hands clasped together, and looking at each other say with confidence, "I go where you go."

And we will move forward in faith together.

Ten Years Later

It was an ordinary morning.

Until it wasn't.

I was awake and getting ready for the day in my apartment, about to head up to the Utah State campus.  

And then the phone rang.

It was my dad.

I can't remember the exact words he said-- only a paraphrase, but I do remember that he told me to turn the TV on and made a remark about the forces of evil being alive and well in the world.  I turned on NBC's Today Show, just in time to see the second plane hit the World Trade Center.  

Time seemed to stand still as the horror of the moment overwhelmed me.

I couldn't move.  My appointments for the day were quickly forgotten.  I simply sat in my apartment, watched the events unfold, and cried.  

The memory of watching the towers fall on live television is a memory that is seared on my psyche.  

At some point in the day, I remember thinking that I needed to get some air, to have a change of scenery.  And so I decided to head up to campus after all.

But the environment didn't exactly provide the respite I was seeking.  Everywhere in the Taggart Center there were clusters of students, huddled en masse watching the latest news commentary on television sets throughout the building.  The normal boisterous atmosphere was absent.  Now, only a low somber murmur could be heard in the halls.  It was as though our generation's innocence had been lost in one fell swoop.  No longer did we have possess that shared feeling of youthful invincibility.  We were suddenly vulnerable, fragile.

I did not know anyone who lost their life in the tragic events of September 11th, but there was not anyone I did know who was not profoundly affected by them.  Whether it was my former classmate who was supposed to be on one of the hijacked planes traveling from Logan International in Boston to Los Angeles, and switched his flight at the last moment, friends living through the horror first hand in New York City and Washington D.C., loved ones worried about a rumored attack in our hometown of Chicago,  or my roommates and I sitting in a quiet apartment in small town Utah-- we were all forever changed.

Even now, the emotions and memories of that day continue to reverberate and influence the way I see the world around me.   I rediscovered just how fragile life truly is, and reaffirmed my need to lean on my Savior not just in times of sorrow, but always.

I love the words that President Thomas S. Monson wrote recently for the Washington Post 9/11 Tribute:

The way to be with God in every season is to strive to be near Him every week and each day. We truly “need Him every hour,” not just in hours of devastation. We must speak to Him, listen to Him, and serve Him. If we wish to serve Him, we should serve our fellow men. We will mourn the lives we lose, but we should also fix the lives that can be mended and heal the hearts that may yet be healed.

It is constancy that God would have from us. Tragedies are not merely opportunities to give Him a fleeting thought, or for momentary insight to His plan for our happiness. Destruction allows us to rebuild our lives in the way He teaches us, and to become something different than we were. We can make Him the center of our thoughts and His Son, Jesus Christ, the pattern for our behavior. We may not only find faith in God in our sorrow. We may also become faithful to Him in times of calm.

I love this great nation, the land of my forefathers.  

It is my prayer that hearts may continue to be healed, and that those who mourn for lost loved ones may find peace and comfort.

May God continue to bless America, and may we continue to "praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!"

{ five things for friday }

- one -

Normally I am not a big Facebook app person, but I have to say-- the Relative Finder app that BYU has put out that works with the New Family Search program is pretty amazing.

 It is pretty remarkable to see how interconnected we all really are.  

For example, every single Facebook friend of mine who has loaded the application to their profile has an ancestor in common with me.  Including my husband, Bryson.  Yep, you heard me right.  Apparently we are 9th cousins, once removed.  Ha.

But even more fascinating are the close connections that I didn't know existed.  I discovered that my friend Helen and I actually have Great-great-great grandparents in common.  Ancestors whose names I knew and recognized.  No wonder we get along so well.

And then there's the famous people in the family line.  My personal favorite?  William Shakespeare is my first cousin, fourteen times removed.  Knowing that just makes me smile.  

- two - 

I made a lightened version of these Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Cheesecake Bars for a good friend that recently had a baby girl.

Oh. My.

They were absolutely amazing, and I am very grateful that I gave most of them away so that I didn't eat the whole pan myself!  It would have been a lot of laps in the pool trying to burn those babies off.  

But really, come to think of it-- they would have been worth it!

- three - 

Favorite Song of the Moment:

"Change in the Making" by Addison Road

- four -

I am trying to get geared up for round two of canning.
We made it through cherries and apricots earlier, and now I have currants and blackberries patiently waiting for me to get a move on.

And then there are the nectarines.

For some reason I decided to get a twenty pound box of organic nectarines from the food co-op we frequent.  Twenty pounds!!!  I'm not quite sure what I was thinking, but I'm pretty sure I'll be happy once all those jewel-colored mason jars are sitting on my pantry shelves.

It'll be good to get in a good rhythm...
Did I mention that peak tomato season is just around the corner?


- five -

I know I mentioned this in a previous post, but we are still basking in the glow of the announcement of the ground breaking ceremony for the temple being built near our home.

I love the fact that President Monson chose a wheat field upon which to construct a new House of the Lord.  There's so much rich scriptural symbolism in that.  On a personal note, I'm thrilled that Elder Oaks will be the presiding authority at the ground breaking.  He was a friend of my Grandpa Ensign's and it just adds yet another layer of meaning to the entire experience for me.

Words don't seem to do it justice, but we are so thankful to have this blessing in our lives.



•••

And those are my five things for Friday!

Breaking New Ground

Close to our home stands a beautiful wheat field.  For the past eight years that we have lived here, we have enjoyed its presence in the neighborhood-- a piece of rural pleasantry in the ever-encroaching suburbia.

Then one cold wintry day last year, our community was rocked by the news that our wheat field would soon be no more.

For months there had been rumors that a temple was going to be built in the area.  We, like so many others, assumed that it would be built in a neighboring community up on the mountain bluffs, where it would overlook the entire valley.

But we were wrong.

And on January 25th, President Thomas S. Monson announced that a temple of God would grace our beautiful field.  A temple.  Just a stone's throw from the steps of our home.  It was dizzying to think about.

Today we received further news that the ground breaking ceremony for the temple will take place in just a few short weeks.  On that day our family will walk to this field and witness as an apostle of the Lord consecrates the ground and overturns the first shovelful of dirt.  Once again, dizzying.

I am so filled with gratitude, peace, and joy.

I never would have imagined that I would have the opportunity to be able to raise my children in the shadow of the Lord's House.  As a young girl, my parents had to travel over 700 miles to attend the nearest temple in Washington D.C..  Certainly, it was a sacrifice to travel there, and consequentially there were not frequent opportunities to be able to serve regularly.  And then there was an announcement.  A temple was to be built in the Chicago area, only an hour's drive from our home!  I can vividly remember visiting the open house for that beautiful temple when I was seven years old.  I can remember the wonderment and awe I felt as I walked through the halls and rooms of that sacred edifice, scarcely able to believe that it was a reality.  But it was.  And I grew up with a deep appreciation for that beautiful temple and the privilege that it was to be able to serve within its walls frequently as a young woman.

Now, those same feelings I felt as a child of seven have come around full circle, as my oldest son is just about the same age I was at that special time in my life.  I pray that he will share a similar spiritual experience as he lives through this remarkable time in his life.

I am so incredibly humbled and thankful. 

My heart rejoices.     
And our cup runneth over.

{ five things for friday }

- one -

I came across this picture on Pinterest the other day, and fell in love.

It absolutely captures the way I feel about myself at this moment in time.

Whenever I face regrets about past mistakes or frustrations that I'm not quite where I want to be in life, I hope to remember these words.  

Beautiful.

- two -

I taught my fourth Relief Society lesson last Sunday.

You would think that with a few months under my belt that I would be starting to feel a little bit more comfortable behind the podium.

I'm not.

I absolutely love my calling, but I still get the shakes all during Gospel Doctrine before I have to teach. Once I get up and am a few minutes into my lesson, though, I loosen up and things flow fantastically.  (Thank you, Spirit!)  I just wish I could relax a little bit more and not be so nervous prior to teaching.  Every month I come home completely emotionally drained and physically exhausted!

- three -

As a mom to two girls, I get so frustrated at the messages our culture sends out to young women.

On Facebook the other day, one of my friends posted a link to this article, which expressed outrage over the messages emblazoned on girls' tees for sale at JCPenney.

It seems like every year there's some retailer making headlines over these "message tees."  But Penney's?  Isn't that as mainstream America as you can get?

Things like this just increase my resolve to teach my girls well about their own individual and inherent worth as daughters of God.  One's worth is not dependent on their perceived physical attractiveness to the opposite sex.  Unfortunately, it appears we have quite the battle ahead of us if these types of messages continue to onslaught our girls.

- four -

Yesterday was my brother, Rob's birthday.

We've been through thick and thin together, and I don't tell him enough how much I love him.

I can't imagine life without him.

I love you, Robbie!!!
Happy Birthday!

- five -

As you might (or might not) have noticed, I've started blogging again after quite a long sabbatical.  

When I started writing, I gave myself permission to take breaks as needed so that the blog didn't become an unbalanced priority in my life.  So this year has been very sparse on the posts because I have tried to devote my attention to those who need me most-- my husband and four little munchkins.  

But I had an experience the other day, when I was trying to find a quote that I knew I had posted once upon a time.  In the process of locating it I came across story after story about my kids that I had completely forgotten about.  It almost frightened me, the little moments I had forgotten simply due to the passage of time.  These moments we have with our children are so precious, so fleeting.  

I knew that I had to start writing again-- not because of any self-gratification I might feel, but to keep a record for my children and grandchildren.  

I want them to be able to read these words and know just how loved they truly are.

And for that reason, I'm back in full force.

•••

And those are my five things for Friday!

Lunch Box Love Notes

When I was young, my mom and dad would occasionally pack little love notes in with my brown bag lunch.  Often, they were written on little bits of paper or notecards.  Sometimes-- usually from my dad-- they were written directly onto the brown paper bag itself in thick black permanent marker.  This continued throughout my school years-- even high school.  I probably feigned embarrassment as a teenager, but even then I secretly adored every hand-penned sentiment.

So, as Taylor began his first year of full day school, I decided to follow suit.  I wrote a quick little note with a red colored pencil-- his favorite color-- telling him how proud I was of him, how much I loved him, and reminding him to make good choices while he was at school.  I stuck it in his lunch box without a word, and off he went for his full day.

That afternoon upon his arrival, I asked him how lunch had gone.

"Good," he said, and then added, "You put a note in my lunch box, Mom!"
"Yes, I sure did."
"How come?"
"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I was thinking about you and that I love you very much."
He looked thoughtful.
"Was that okay?" I asked.
"Yes," he grinned sheepishly.  "I saved it."
"You saved my note?"
"Yes, I put it in my classroom."  He paused, as though debating whether to tell me the rest of the story or not.  "I wanted to keep it in case I got a little scared or lonely at school.  Then it will help me feel better!"

Sometimes it really is the little things in life that make the biggest difference.
I love my little man.

Zip-a-dee-do-dah

So, it's finally happened.
The twins are talking.

Aside from the traditional "Mama" and "Dada," the first words are officially in.

For Logan, it was "uh-oh."
For Dani, it was "shoe."

Obviously, we are in big trouble here.

But my current favorite word being said around the house these days is Dani's version of "sippy cup."  Not being able to clearly pronounce the sounds required of her, it has instead become a "sippy sip."  And most of the time even then, she has difficulty in getting her "s" sound correct.  In which case, the words come out "zippy zip."

Zippy zip.
I love it.

Every time she toddles on over to me and asks me for a "zippy zip" in that cute little voice of hers,  I can't help but grin ear to ear.  Her charm is irresistible.

That is, until the other night when I was woken by the sounds of little Dani crying in her crib.  I glanced at the clock.  1:30 am.  Bleary-eyed, I stumbled into the nursery to comfort her-- assuming that she must be teething again, frightened, or in some other dire need.  As I approached her, however, the cries stopped and instead she gave me an enormous grin.

"Zippy zip?" she asked sweetly.

Hmmmmm...

I stared back at her in disbelief, trying to be annoyed.

But it was pretty much pointless.
Even then, it was still adorable.