Moving...

One day I was looking for something on our blog, and found myself reading through some of the old stories on here, and being glad I'd blogged about those things way back when, or they might have been forgotten.

But I've been so lazy about blogging...

And so unmotivated...

Our lives have moved into a new phase, one filled with teenagers and funny, random moments every day...  And make-us-crazy moments as well, because of course there are both.

"So why not start a new blog?" I thought.

And because teenagers make for great family folklore, I've done just that.

If you want to keep following us, click here.

My Not-So-Perfect, Just-Right Dad

I'm pretty sure I've said a million times of my dad that he raised twelve children who each thought they were his favorite child.  He's an amazing man with an amazing heart and ability to be present with whomever, whenever.

When I watch him now with his grandchildren, I see him doing the same thing. In a room full of cousins, aunts, and uncles, the noisy chaos of 30 people in one room stands still in the world of which ever child he is with at the time.  (photo credit to my mom.)

With a grandchild

My dad and mom

On a pogo stick...  I think you seriously have to be an
"in the moment" kind of person to do this at age 67.

Remember that age when you realize your parents aren't perfect?  I think I have 5 children at that age right now, and even though I sometimes wish they still thought I knew everything, it's kind of liberating to have them see me as a real person with real faults and challenges.  Of course as teenagers they also have all the answers about how to fix me, which, of course, was true for me with my parents at that same at that age.  I remember being in school or with friends or in seminary or college and hearing an idea that I just knew my parents needed to hear because it would enlighten them.  Of course I told them.

Then I grew up (not really...still working on that one, but it just sounds like the right thing to say), and even though it took me a long to to outgrow my knowing everything stage, I somehow, in all my "knowingness," married a guy who has the same kind of love in his heart that my dad showed to me as a child.  I remember the love I felt for Tim when I would watch him interacting with other people.  People craved his presence, because when he was with them, they were the most important thing in the world in that moment...and that was after only knowing him for a few days.  Isn't it funny how you just know those things about people?  It's reassuring to me now as an adult that I was drawn to kindness, love and sincerity.

The Not-So-Perfect:  I've been thinking a lot lately about weakness, mistakes, and imperfections in the light of our own individual human worth and dignity.  A few weeks ago, in a moment of introspection about this concept, I made some notes:

What human value means to me:   

   * Regarded as important
   * Regarded as vital/critical
   * Irreplaceable, like a valued original object
   * Immeasurable in quality, quantity and form (unlike object value)
   * Cannot be purchased
   * Universal--all the above apply to all human beings

And as I think about human value, I also think of our own views of our value, and the value of others based on (often) mistakenly critical focus on errors and weaknesses.  There is nothing more heartbreaking than criticism (guilty...me), and nothing as empowering as seeing past faults to the whole person (striving...me).

But on to how that applies to these two awesome dads...

A few months ago I was attending a women's meeting at church where the speaker said the following:  Nothing does not mean worthless; nothing means powerless (in reference to Moses's statement that he was "nothing."  See Moses 1: 3-10)

That lead me further into my thinking, and I wrote:

 Our nothingness keeps us going back to God.  For that reason, it is our imperfection, not our perfection, which makes us perfect.  Struggle doesn't mean we are imperfect.  It means we are bringing ourselves to God.

My dad was great at being imperfect, which in my eyes always made him perfect.  His ability to be comfortable in his own skin, complete with his own weaknesses and shortcomings made it safe for me to be my whole self in his presence.  My own struggles didn't matter, because he saw past them to the person who was struggling, and saw my strengths in whatever condition I was in.

And so it is that when I think of how and why I love my own dad, and when I think of the love that knits our children's hearts to Tim, I see this:  It is knowing perfectly how to be imperfect, which makes both of them just right.

Let me explain...  One thing my children know about grandpa:  When you're at his house, he'll gather everyone to read scriptures every day, no matter what.  I also knew that growing up.  As a child, this represented to me that my churchy dad was following all the rules.  What I didn't understand back then was my dad knew he didn't know everything, but was showing me and 11 other children every day how to find our way through anything by turning himself to God.

Grandpa reading scriptures with grandkids

And just as importantly as the fact that he knew he alone didn't have all the answers, was how he went about connecting me to that same source of truth and answers that has come to mean more to me as I've gotten older.  I remember mornings when I was busy getting ready and would skip breakfast, and miss scriptures.  Before I'd leave for school, my dad would come find me, and read a few verses of scripture to me before I left for school.  Back then, I complained about it to my friends.  "Can you believe..."  

But back to the how...   As a teenager, when I was, in fact, all-knowing, my own father was coming to me in his "nothingness" and powerlessness to connect me to his infinite source of strength.  It was in his acknowledgement of his nothingness, and in just being present for a few minutes with me before I started my own day, that he became everything to me.  He wasn't feeding me rules and how-to's and lectures about how and how not to live, or telling me I needed to eat breakfast instead of putting on make-up, or throwing on a guilt trip about missing scriptures with the family, or telling me how busy he was, or being upset over having to come find me instead of telling me I needed to have enough respect to be there for breakfast like he'd asked (all of which could have sounded a lot like criticism to an autonomy seeking teen, and would have done very little to acknowledge his or my human value and dignity).  He was just taking a minute to notice that in a pack of siblings one of his daughters wasn't there, and setting aside his own important task of getting on with his day, and taking the time to seek me out so he could share ideas about life with me from his own book of answers.  What a gift.

My realization about all of this:  In his selflessness and nothingness, he became everything to me.

Tim does the same thing.  I, on the other hand, am usually the one spouting off rules and expectations then apologizing later...  Tim knows how to give the gift of self, and I know he thinks his best self often isn't enough, but it is in the how that he affects our children.  During this crazy teen family phase, giving his whole imperfect self to be offered up on the sacrificial alter of teen "knowingness" communicates human worth and dignity in a way that speaking about worth and dignity cannot.  (And throwing in a spontaneous trip through the drive through doesn't hurt either.)

The message:  You matter.  In this sea of humanity, you mean the whole world to someone.  You are important.  You are loved.

The other message:  As a dad, I'm imperfect, and I know it, but I also know how to show you that you're everything to me, and at the end of the day, those hearts that are knit to the best dad hearts learn more about human worth and dignity and how to love by watching their own dads than they could ever learn in a sermon.

So on father's day, I'm sending a shout-out to my awesome dad, as well as the awesome dad of my own children.  Thank you both for being not-so-perfect (which makes you a just right kind of dad).

Ahhhhhhh....Summer

Already the first week of summer, and we're off to the sandy beaches of...

Not!  (But we can dream, right?)

In reality, Nate and Jeran are off doing their scout thing at Silver Moccasin, and Megan is in Colorado at a basketball camp.  Tim and I are here at home with Joie and Gabby, thinking how only two kiddos can make life really, really quiet.

But we've enjoyed the late nights, friends, a little swimming, and the laid back life of no homework and fewer deadlines.

I always say I'll post later about all the goings on, and I'm sure I will (wink, wink) but not today.  Happy summer, everyone!

Back on the Bottom Bunk...

Joie and Gabby have been sharing a room since last summer.  They're real-life frenemies.  I wish I could slip a recorder in their room one day just to get in on all the conversations they have.  I love that they can talk...and yell (but I don't love that part).

They take turns (odd/even nights) deciding if the door is open or shut, and turning off the light.  This was decided because of nightly arguments about the light and door.  Now it's peaceful.  Mostly.  Until somehow the other night it wasn't.  This is a real conversation that took place between them a few nights ago...

Keep in mind, I didn't hear the conversation until it escalated, at which point I heard something like this:

Joie:  Gabby!  You have to turn off the light.

Gabby:  If you want it off, you turn it off.

Joie:  No!  I had to turn it off when I was on the bottom bunk, so now you have to turn it off.

Gabby:  You're an idiot.

Me:  (in my best calm neutral, not-intervening in their argument voice)  Gabby, we don't call names.  You get an extra job.

Gabby:  No, wait.  Let me explain...  (Insert lengthy explanation of how Joie made her get off the top bunk to turn off the light so she was just doing the same thing.)

Me:  You two get to work that part out, but we don't call names.  (Somehow that made them both hate this family, because apparently being in a family where name calling was ok would have been sooooo much better right then.)

Fast forward an hour (really a few minutes, maybe even seconds, but I'm going for dramatic effect).

Gabby:  I'm sleeping with the light on.

Joie:  Well, I'm not.

Gabby:  Then turn it off yourself.

Joie:  I don't have to.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Joie:  Gabby!  I said I wasn't turning off the light.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Joie:  You're a big, fat idiot.

Me:  (Voice no longer so calm and neutral)  Joie!  What did I just say?!?  Now you have an extra job too.

Joie:  Mom!  That's not  fair!  You always listen to Gabby.  You always give her what she wants.

Gabby:  Ha!

Joie:  See?  She's such a baby.  Always.  Gets.  What.  She.  Wants.  

Me:  (attempting the calm, neutral voice again)  Joie, I know you don't want more jobs.  No name calling.  (And so on, and so on, and so on...)

At some point I got frustrated and gave up on not getting involved in the argument.

Me:  You have two minutes to turn off the light.  If it's not off in two minutes, I'm taking out the
lightbulb and you won't even have a light.

Light was turned out.  End of story.  Joie even got off the top bunk to do it.

End of commentary...on to the real story.

They switched Gabby back to bottom bunk at my request.  My Gabby girl hasn't been sleeping very well.  She's having nightmares again, so I've been doing essential oils with her at bedtime to help her sleep.  (Yes, we've jumped on the essential oils bandwagon.)  I told her it would be easier to rub them on her feet if she was on the bottom bunk.  The next day they switched.  (Exhibit A of how they also can work together.)

Tonight Gabby said, "Mommy, read me a story.  It doesn't have to be a chapter book.  Just a short book."  

And can you believe I said no?  But that was at first, before I had the thought a few seconds later that one day my house would be quiet at night, with no one asking me to read them a story, so I did.

I read her the story of her adoption day, and she loved it.  Especially the part about doing push-ups in the court house withe dad while we waited, and the part about the sibling slumber party in the living room that night.

And I'm writing it all down so someday when my house is quiet, I'll remember those little voices who needed me.  I'm sure I'll still wish they were here.  I need to remember that on those busy, do-ing kind of days.

Mom, Why Aren't You Blogging Anymore?

For some reason, the subject of our family blog has been a topic of conversation around our house lately...

And then the question:  Mom, why aren't you blogging anymore?  

To which I reply...  (sound of crickets chirping)

At one point, it was just because my health was horrible and I just didn't have it in me, but I honestly don't have a good reason anymore.  Illness has passed...  Health is returning...  The catch up game is calming down...  

So here I go again.  For real.  

When our children were younger, I kept a family journal.  When I figured out blogging, this became our family journal.  When our children were younger, they liked reading out of our family journal.  Mostly, it made us laugh.  It was also fun to see the growth and changes.  I know they all check our blog, even now that they're older, but I didn't know they missed it.   

So for the updates: 

Nate:  Knee injury, which I think I may have already mentioned...  Healing...  Not healing...  Surgery...  No Surgery...  And then finally, surgery today.  I promised I wouldn't post the requisite hospital gown pics, even though he was just sitting in bed waiting to go into surgery when I snapped the photo.  Actually, he did say I could include the picture, but I think he also said I'd have to pay him $50.00 or something like that.  He told Tim $10.00.  Sheesh!  Does he think he's a movie star?  The picture posted was actually one I took of him right after his injury--back in December. As far as I know, there are no royalties imposed for that picture.

But about the surgery:  It was torn cartilage...and a piece of cartilage floating around in his knee.  The pain around his ACL was actually a ganglion cyst on the bone near his ACL, which they don't do much about unless it is specifically causing pain.  There was also some other inflammation and signs of a pretty traumatic knee injury that was trying to heal.  They'll start physical therapy again in a few weeks.

Meanwhile, he hopes every day we find a car for him to drive...  We're looking.  We may have found something.  I hope so.  (But he can't drive for a few weeks anyway, so the pressure is off for now.)

He's also got a job now.  He works at Arctic Circle.  In his own words, "I'm Sponge Bob,"  (which really means he's a fry cook).  The newness of the job wore off enough for him to brave just one more interview at an auto mechanic shop, which is perfect for Nate.  It sounds like he got the job, so he may be moving up from Sponge Bob to...not sure which character I should insert here, but picture someone helping out around a mechanic shop...cleaning up, running errands, changing oil, etc.  That's his new gig.

Megan:  In a word, "sports."  And singing.  And friends.  But mostly sports.  Basketball season is over, but she wanted to make it longer, and wishes there was enough time to have eternal soccer and basketball seasons.  Soccer has started with the first two games being cancelled, third being played in the rain, followed by a week of coughing and sore throat, and another game scheduled to play in the rain/snow tomorrow.   She loves her comp team, but has outgrown them, which means a lot of team try-outs in the near future.  She's awesome.

And friends...  She'd probably also do that 24/7 if she could.  I love that this girl doesn't ever get sucked into the drama of teen life.  

And singing...  I think we're the only carpool where the ukelele is preferred to the radio.  (Some days it's both, but usually that makes the driver (moi) a bit nuts so we try to limit ourselves to one music source at a time.)  Megan and her BFF who carpools with us both love to sing, and now they both have ukeleles.  It's a sing-along carpool.  Mostly everyone else is ok with that.  

At home she sings too.  All the time.  Most parents threaten to take away iPods or phones if kids don't do homework or chores, but with Megan I have to take away the ukelele.  (Although she did go through some minor withdrawal symptoms when she left her iPod on the game bus one day and couldn't find it until the next week.)

And she loves photography (see above self-portriat).  She is saving for an expensive camera.  She's almost there.  Go Megan!

And she said something really amazing today, and made my day.  She said all her friends say their parents don't listen to them, and she told them she can talk to her parents.  (Huge smile.)  She also said, "Yeah,  my mom's a therapist."  Apparently you need a degree to talk to kids.  (Tim is just awesome enough to do it without a degree.) 

Jeran:  Just to explain the picture...  Jeran has had some asthma problems this winter.  We thought asthma was behind him, but over the last year and a half it's back.  Usually he's ok, but he got a cold that kept him from going camping over spring break with the scouts...  Apparently breathing is that important.  Later that day we ended up in the doctor's office getting a nebulizer treatment, which he hasn't had since he was about 2 years old, and didn't remember at all.  When the nurse gave him the tube that was spewing funky nebulizer mist, he looked at me and said, "Mom, this doesn't feel legal."  Yes, he's that funny all the time.

He actually left earlier today for a speech festival.  They're staying in Cedar City overnight.  He's in a play next week...The Importance of Being Earnest.  He's the butler.  And he needs a tuxedo shirt and bow tie.  I found a bow tie on Amazon, but I don't want to pay for a tuxedo shirt.  Anyone have one we can borrow?

This kid is constantly a whirlwind of activity.  If it's  not something with school, it's friends.  And he has awesome friends.  One day earlier this year, I was going into the high school with my arms full.  Instantly, three students rushed the doors and held them open for me.  They were Jeran's friends.

He's also into all things geek.  But he's not a geek.  (Really, he's not.)  But he can't wait for next weeks release of Iron Man 3.  I think he has tickets for the midnight showing when it's released.

He's taller than me and stronger than me and smarter than me and he knows it.  And he's great at getting things done so he has time for friends and fun...  And I'm sure he thinks Nate is a better chauffeur than Tim or I because Nate will stop anywhere.  I know there are stories upon stories I don't even know about their time together...just between brothers I guess.  I hope one day they'll tell me (someday when removing privileges is no longer an option).  Meanwhile, I just tell myself that they're just kidding and that really there is nothing that happens on their outings that they wouldn't share with me, because it makes me feel better when I tell myself that.  And "in my world everyone's a pony and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies."  (credit:  Dr. Seuss)

Joie:  Once upon a time there was a mom who was happy with three beautiful children.  Then unexpectedly one day, a little girl who knew hurt and loneliness beyond belief came into that mom's life, and showed her the joy of living (joie de vivre).  That girl is Joie.  (The picture is her with her cousin, Kedric, who is named after Joie's dad.)

She was also in a play at school.  She was a patient in an insane asylum who thought she was in an army.  She got to dress in camouflage and carry a fake weapon.  (Yes, even in school...  Don't tell anyone.)

And here's a really funny story.  Joie is fearless.  That's F-e-a-r-l-e-s-s with a capital F.  And flirty.  Also with a capital F.  On second thought, I won't tell the story.  (But if you ask, I'll tell you.)  But the other funny part of the story was this...  A few days after she was gutsy and fearless and asked a guy to be her Valentine, Tim was driving the kids to school and stopped at the store for donuts (because he's cool and awesome like that...insert picture of upset mom).  Joie's valentine was also at the store.  Tim rolled down the window and called his name.  Yes, really.  Because he's gutsy and fearless like Joie, but it turns out when dad is being gutsy and fearless, children are usually embarrassed and humiliated.  Ok, maybe not humiliated, but embarrassed.  And possibly he lost a few cool and awesome points also.

Other amazing things this girls does:  She's a brainiac.  The straight A kind of brainiac.  And she recently started Tae Kwon Do.  Her older cousin, Adrienne, was here for the week over spring break.  She knew of a gym through a friend here in Utah where she could attend training/workouts for a week. They let Joie and Gabby join with Adrienne, and they got hooked.  She broke boards last week.  Don't mess with her. And another funny story...  Son of the TKD master goes to Joie's school and had just been hitting on Joie and her friend.  He walked into the gym one day toward the end of a workout, and was probably super surprised to see her there.  (And I thought of all kinds of things I wanted to say to him, but didn't.)

And she's a good person.  She recently had a friend tell her she was too happy.  Life isn't without challenges, for sure.  There are still moments of missing the people who loved her before this little girl came into our life, but she knows genuine happiness also.  She is strong, and a good friend who listens and understands.  I told her tonight when we were talking about girl drama, "You don't sweat the small stuff because you know there are bigger problems in the world."  And it's true (unless the small stuff is with siblings.  She still knows how to push those buttons.)

Gabby:  This picture is for Grandma Campbell.  She is wrapped in a baby blanket made by grandma.  My mom made blankets for all our kids when they were babies.  Recently she realized she didn't get to do this for Gabby, or for two other grand children who were adopted from foster care by my sister.  She asked them about colors and styles, and a few weeks later, the blankets came in the mail.  Apparently Grandma blankets bring joy at all ages.  I tried to get her to save them somewhere special for her kids, but for now, they're her reading blankets in her room.

And she's caught up almost completely in school.  She pushes herself every day.  She never misses homework, and I don't have to remind her.  She wants to be a doctor when she grows up, or play professional soccer.  She and a friend recently made their life plan:  Live together when they go to college, and play soccer in college, then be professional soccer players, then doctors.  And never get married.

And she rocks at soccer, and being a friend.  Gabby got sucked into some friend drama at school this year, and it's been tuff, but she's a smart girl, and doesn't let it happen anymore.  (Can I just say I'm so glad the being a friend trait seems to run through my girls...huge sigh of relief.)  Her teacher and other adults identify her as a leader in groups.  Charisma defines this girl.

She's been busy lately, but keeps up.  We usually say only one activity at a time for the kids, but Tae Kwon Do came knocking right after she signed up for soccer, and she does it all.  And she still goes to ESL (English Second Language) tutoring four hours a week.  One day this week she went from soccer to TKD with less than 20 minutes in between, and did chores and homework too.  We decided next soccer season we'll suspend TKD for a few months. She might be able to keep up, but it wears me out!

Since school started last fall, Gabby has been remembering a lot of details about her life in India that I've never heard before.  I can see her get stirred up once in a while, and know there is something in her mind ready to break free from where ever she's kept it stored before now... Details of her mom's death.  Details of how she handled that loss, and how her brother handled that loss.  Details of what her mom taught her before she died.  Details of how she got here...and so much more.  That's a lot of remembering, which isn't easy.  A few months ago I started reading "The Whole Brain Child," by Daniel Siegel (great book, by the way), and just this week attended a conference where he presented.  The key of "integration" is the main concept of his book (both within the brain, and in relationships and life).  Gabby is integration, because when she isn't, she pushes herself to make meaning out of her many, many stories of hurt and loss.  She inspires me to be a better person.

In fact, all of them do.  I keep waiting for the proverbial "other foot" to drop in our teen world, but so far it hasn't.  I seriously love this time in their lives.  There is so much teen energy in this house that some days I think I could bottle it and sell it.  (Who wouldn't pay cash to feel the energy of teenagers?)  But for now I'll just breathe it in and soak it up, because it's the kind of energy that can't be bottled.  I know it will be gone in a blink, and as crazybusy as it gets most days, I'm glad I'm up to my eyeballs in it.  Wouldn't trade it for anything.

Last Dance

I needed a reason to kick start me into blogging again, and trying to find a way to pay tribute to this adorable couple has done it for me.

Meet Ross and Darlene Moser, parents to my brother's wife, Melissa.  The first time I met them was at Ben and Melissa's wedding, and I will never forget this soft hearted dad shedding real tears as he talked about his baby girl marrying my brother.  

Over the years, as we've spent time with their family during family events, I've come to love this family of in-laws.  I'm not sure I know any of my other in-laws the way I know the Mosers, and that's because they want to be known.  They're genuine and real...and really fun, the kind of people you just feel comfortable around.  

Last year we were all sad to hear that Melissa's dad had been diagnosed with cancer in his foot, but it was unimaginable when, only a few months later, Melissa shared the news that her mom had cancer as well. Over their months of fighting cancer, I'd laugh and cry as I read Melissa's email updates...which were just as real as her family.

But the one thing that always stood out to me in Melissa's emails was the spirit of living life her parents continued to embrace.  Even on days when it seemed her parents felt their worst, there were memories being made with children and grand children.

A few months ago, Melissa sent out an email with the above picture attached.  (By that point, I'd learned to read Melissa's emails with tissue in hand.)  Of course the story behind this picture brought tears, but as always, Melissa's description had me smiling as well.  The family was having what her parents thought was a surprise party for her brother.  In Melissa's words, "As we were walking down the hall the band started to play.  It was awesome!  My Dad was really excited!  He kicked off his shoes (he didn't have his dancing shoes, so socks were better) and grabbed Mom and started dancing."

Melissa then described how, for the next hour as the band played, she and her siblings took turns dancing with their parents.

That was Ross and Darlene's last dance together.  Darlene passed away in January, and just yesterday, two months after his wife had died, Ross passed away as well.  It's bittersweet to think of them dancing together in each other's arms once again.  

When this picture popped up again on facebook yesterday, my mind filled with memories of times we spent with the Mosers, and how comfortable it always was to just sit and talk to Melissa's mom about anything...or nothing...or everything.  It just didn't seem like words or a card or flowers could honor the memory of this life-filled, love-filled family, and the battle they've been through this past year.

Then it hit me...  Random Acts of Kindness.  We already have the facebook page, and it just seemed appropriate to pay it forward once again in memory of Ross and Darlene Moser.

Please join us.  Forward this story.  Forward the link to the facebook page.  Tell your friends and family.  

Saturday, March 9th is Ross's funeral, and while friends and family are paying tribute to him, we will pay tribute to them by spreading random acts of kindness that day in their name.

Join us on facebook or comment here.  Share what you've done, or what you're doing, or how participating in another RAK day affected you...  We'll pass it on to the Mosers.

Ross and Darlene, you're missed.  Thank you for your inspiration and love (and for your amazing daughter, who is arguably the best thing that ever happened to my brother).  

Day In Review...If You Give A Mouse A Cookie

You know those days when the day leads you?  When best laid plans get ignored? (a.k.a give-a-mouse-a-cookie kind of days.)

But before the day in review, I need to say Tim and I had huge plans to attend Donny and Marie concert in Salt Lake City later in the evening...Tim's Christmas present from me, and I did surprise him, unlike most other years.  Yes, I bought the tickets in November and Tim still didn't find out.

Day in review:

• Plan to do some winter cleaning...
• Drove Megan to basketball practice
• Start winter cleaning, which included a nice sized donation pile.
• Tim was doing his some winter organizing of his own in his office...new set of shelves he built.
• Couldn't get down the hall while he was moving the shelves in so I got put on guinea pig babysitting duty while Gabby cleaned her guinea pig cage (guinea pigs are a gift from Santa).
• Jeran found Kohl's cash while helping Tim move shelves that had to be used by the 1st.  (Note:  Change of plans...add trip to Kohl's into my day, when I go to drop off huge donation pile, and pick up the tickets from my office where I hid them.)
• Somehow the dog and the guinea pigs got into the same room...no harm.  Dog was curious, but not interested in making Gabby's new pets into a meal.
• Relieved of pet sitting duty.
• Leave to pick up Megan from basketball practice.
• Megan is dizzy and feels like passing out.  She eats and feels a little better, but as we're talking about symptoms, she named some symptoms of diabetes (which runs in her genes...over 50% of the population of Marshall Islanders over 30 has diabetes...something I've always worried about).
• Call a friend who is a nurse and takes care of daily testing for students with diabetes in our school district.  Wait for her to call me back.
• Megan feels better but is still pretty wiped out.
• I go to Kohl's.  Friend calls back while I'm there...thinks Megan should get checked out.  Tim has a friend who also works with diabetics.  He said the same thing.
• Cry on the phone to Tim because the emotions of the day and worry about Megan hit me all at once.
• Tim takes Nate to driving portion of his driver's license test.  Nate passed.  (Huge, loud cheering.)
• Finish at Kohl's and go home to take Megan to Urgent Care without dropping off donations (which are still, at this late hour, in the back of the Durango).
• 2.5 hours at Urgent Care.  It's their busiest week of the year (the nurse said so).  All the while I'm wondering who Tim will take to the concert if Megan is sick or in the hospital and I can't go...
• Turns out Megan's blood sugar is ok...She was dehydrated.  
• Stop at the store to buy some healthy food as Megan tries to talk me into every sugary treat imaginable because apparently, 2.5 hours of imagining her life with sugar restrictions had left her with some cravings (but I said no...such a good mom...who is more determined than ever to help this girl never get diabetes).
• Get home in time to see the huge mess I left trying to get some cleaning done...which would have to remain a huge mess because no matter what, we were going to the concert.
• But first I had to drop Jeran off at a birthday party and pick up the tickets from my office.
• Enjoyed an amazing evening of entertainment with Tim and about 2,700 of Donny and Marie's friends.

Image credit shared by my friend on facebook when she knew we were going to the concert

...And the mouse hangs the picture on the refrigerator and stands back to admire his work and seeing the refrigerator, wants milk, then asks for a cookie to go with it...  And the whole thing starts over again tomorrow.

The Case of the Missing Chocolate Covered Cinnamon Bears

Have you ever had these things?  They're addictive!  Seriously...  

Try to eat just one.

We are no strangers to sports and school fundraisers this year.  In the past 6 months we have had 2 fundraisers for a local frozen yogurt place (buy one get one free cards), a fundraiser selling potatoes (huge Idaho Russets...just in time for Thanksgiving), a coupon book fundraiser, cookie dough, and a few others I'm sure I don't even remember.  We also had two fundraisers of selling all kinds of sweets...fun stuff that is overpriced, but very yummy so people will buy it.

Which brings us to chocolate covered cinnamon bears.  One of our neighbors bought some from Megan.  Megan delivered all the goodies except theirs, because they were out of town.  (Those would be the chocolate covered cinnamon bears.)  

And she naively left the tub of bears in the kitchen.  Right where everything is fair game.  Of course everyone wanted some.  I asked a few times whose they were.  No one answered.  One of the kids even said they were a Christmas present from dad.  And the boys said they were ours, that dad bought them from Megan in the fundraiser.  (Note to self:  Never believe hungry teens when it comes to claiming food.)  No one admits to opening them, but several of us might admit to enjoying them...

Needless to say, by the time the neighbors were home and Megan realized what had happened, it was too late.  We're hoping they accept a cute note and a treat...

(And no worries.  We're going with the you-eat-it, you-buy-it policy so they'll get their money back also.)

Seriously, with all those fundraisers, if this was our only delivery mishap, that's not so bad...

Unless you're our neighbors.

Sidenote:  Gabby graduated from NOVA today.  

Sidenote #2:  Nate went to an orthopedic specialist today and we found out it's his ACL that is torn.  When the swelling goes down in a few weeks, he'll have surgery.  Meanwhile he gets to wear his brace for a few more weeks, and is out of wrestling for the season...and probably spring sports as well.  His goal:  To take his driver's ed test and get his license before he has surgery.

It's Gabby Jarman Day

This is a picture taken of Gabby when we went to meet her in Omaha two years ago.  We went one week to meet her, and went back the next week to bring her home.

Today is officially Gabby Jarman Day--the anniversary of the day she became a part of the family two years ago.

I will never forget the feeling I had when we went to pick her up from school that day.  In that one moment, as we walked from the school to the car, we went from a family of 6 to a family of 7.  It's another one of those moments that is such a vivid picture in my mind, I could swear I've seen a picture of it somewhere, but no picture exists.

Can I tell you how much I love this girl?  I can't imagine our lives without her.  What a blessing she is to us!

For sure we're celebrating, although Gabby hasn't decided yet between pizza and Indian food.

And yesterday she told me, "I showered twice today so I wouldn't have to shower again tomorrow."  She was totally serious.  I guess she doesn't want to have to worry about a shower on her big day.

Sunday afternoon I read through the posts I wrote during the time we were preparing to adopt her, meeting her, and picking her up.  (Tears...but happy tears.)  I'll say it again.  I love this girl.  I love who she is.  I love that we get to share her life.  We are blessed.

See Gabby's adoption posts here.  (The order is most recent to oldest post...scroll back and start at the oldest post to get the story.)

In October (back when mono took over and I wasn't blogging much) we made a trip back to Omaha to visit people Gabby loved before she came to our family...that story will follow soon (promise).

Today we celebrate!

I'm Declaring It Family Friday

The tragedy on my mind this afternoon is the same tragedy on everyone's mind...

As you all know, early this morning a gunman entered an elementary school and shot 26 people (20 kids).  His actions have left a lot of minds reeling today with questions about safety.

Personally, when I heard the news, I felt the same way I did on 9-11.  I couldn't wait to hug my kids this afternoon.  I wanted right then to go find them where ever they were at and wrap my protective parent arms around them and make sure nothing ever hurt them.  Ever.

My next thoughts were about our crazy morning.  There were too many things happening to fit into one day and it turned out to be one of those mornings.  (If you're a parent, you know what I mean.)

Nate was sporting crutches and a knee brace, courtesy of a wrestling injury that was really a cross country injury that hadn't healed and was re-injured, and I knew I needed to try to get him in to an orthopedic specialist sometime in the near future.

Megan had to be to school early to take a test, and Joie needed to leave with her to go to a study lab.

Gabby needed Mentos, Diet Coke, and Play Doh for a science experiment at school, and the two stores I had been to the night before didn't have Mentos, so I knew I'd be on some kind of mission that morning before work to find a store or gas station that stocked Mentos...

And Gabby was worried she wouldn't get what she needed for her experiment.

Jeran was rushing around trying to pack up the 30-something birdhouses he had made and was donating to Primary Children's Hospital for kids in the hospital to paint.

Tim, who was supposed to be getting ready to drive Jeran and the birdhouses to the hospital was on a cleaning frenzy, which stresses me out because if he cleans I feel like I have to clean and that just wasn't on my to-do list for today.

Somehow in the process of us arguing passionately discussing housecleaning, the topic of kids' chores came up and poor Gabby only heard which jobs hadn't been done, and didn't get much credit for all she had done.  I hate it when that happens, and I saw it on her face as soon as she heard it.

Never in a million years would I care more about a clean house than my children.  (I can offer a free tour of our messy house as Exhibit A in my defense.)  But that's the message Gabby got.

I also hate sending my kids to school upset.  I've been known to take the long way to school so we can talk, or park in the parking lot to finish a discussion, and even drop them off late on occasion just to make sure we don't part ways upset at each other.  It's funny what loss will do to you that way, and somewhere in the back of my mind there's always the thought that we can't part ways upset...  Call it residual grief or a life's lesson learned.  Either way, it's important to me.

Today was no different.  Gabby had stomped out the front door and was sitting on the porch.  I called her back in and we had a minute--just Mom, Dad, Gabby, and Jeran.  Gabby got to hear how much she was loved and even what an amazing hard worker she was (because she is), and in just a few minutes our priorities were re-adjusted and relationships became once again more important than a messy clean house.

Why do I share that?  Because today, like so many other parents, as soon as I heard the news, I thought of all those other parents who will never get to hug their kiddos again, and wondered what if...

What if that had been our school, in our town...students we knew and loved, or even one of our own children?  And I thought of our morning.

Then I thought of people I knew, and found myself sympathizing with comments on facebook about wanting to homeschool, and sending prayers and love to people affected by this tragedy...  All of us trying in every way like I was to make sense of senseless.

Then when school let out, I went to go pick up Gabby, and was relieved that (at least for now, until she starts hearing more about it) she was just happy with the goldfish crackers and apple juice I bought her for her snack before she went to tutoring.  She heard what happened and asked a few questions, but quickly moved on to other things.

And as difficult as it was to not want to listen to the news on the radio, I turned it down and once again it was just me and one of my kids, and all was right with the world.  Then I dropped her off at her tutoring class and fought the urge to disrupt normal and just keep her with me today.  (Sigh.)

Then later when I picked her up, she was chatting about her day and asking for "Little Cheesers Pizza" for dinner because "Little Cheesers" is next to her tutoring, and she can't not ask every time we leave.  It was all oh-so-normal.

And I was oh-so-thankful that things were oh-so-normal...

And the sadness of the day hit me again as I thought about those whose lives are anything but normal today, and whose arms will feel especially empty tonight.

I know Gabby will have questions as she hears more about it, and I know over the weekend we'll discuss it more so she gets to process it first before hearing it from her friends.  The other kids have had questions too, and have already talked about it with their friends.

Sadly, tragedy isn't new to our family, and I learned a long time ago you can't make sense of senseless.  I also know, more than I wish I knew, that I can't protect children from life (but that doesn't keep me from wishing I could, and even trying...because I'm a mom and I'm human).

At the same time, the lessons I've learned lead me like an old friend through helping me process this new tragedy with my children.  I know without even thinking that my need to process isn't theirs.  And I learned a long time ago that hiding my sadness and grief won't protect them, and letting my grief show gives them permission to do the same, even when what we're experiencing isn't the same.  And fear...  My fear isn't their fear, but how I handle my fear is a cue to them about how to handle their fear.

And that is why today, like every day, they will see me doing what I always do...breathing in...breathing out...driving crazy carpools, and dropping them off at tutoring and practices and bossing them around all evening as they do their chores.

And tonight, as luck would have it, no one has anything scheduled, so we're declaring it Family Friday, and watching "It's A Wonderful Life" together.  And what do you know...the teens aren't even protesting (at least not much).  Some days I guess we're all just a little more thankful for each other than others.

And an awesome Mr. Rogers quote shared today on facebook:  "When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.' To this day, especially in times of 'disaster,' I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers - so many caring people in this world."

Also some great resources about helping kids deal with tragedy can be found here.

It's Been A While...

...Almost three months since my last real blog post?  Really?  (The last two were just acknowledgement of my little hiatus.)

Mono kicked my hiney.  There are still some days I yawn at work (not a good thing for a therapist to do a whole lot of), and I'm amazed still at how fast I can feel exhausted.  Mostly though, I have more days now where I feel "normal," so I'll take it.

But really...  Where to begin?

November...  National Adoption Month.  Thanksgiving.  Most years I have a lot to say about both.  Our November tradition around here is to focus on gratitude by naming things we're thankful for every day and trying to fill up our kernel jar.

This year I heard a question early in November that made our gratitude focus a little different.  The question was "Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch me or one of my family members this day?"

As imperfectly as we could with crazy teen schedules and a parent with mono, we tried to focus on this question when we talked about gratitude.  ...Different twist, and I think a great way for us to focus attention on how God's hand is in the details.

Also on Thanksgiving Day, Tim and I celebrated our 18th anniversary.  Happy day.

We even left the kids overnight the weekend prior to Thanksgiving to celebrate...  All by themselves...  All five of them...  And the house was still here when we got back...  And they're all still alive.  

I know.  Amazing.  

And there's more...  So much, much more, but I'm sure we'll catch up.  Or not.  Either way, I think I'm blogging again.  Time will tell.

Apparently You Can Get Mono Twice

 No wonder I'm so exhausted.

And this sore throat that feels like strep comes and goes and won't go away!

And those days where I'm achy and feverish...

I just thought I must be getting every cold that is going around this fall, but apparently it's one really, really long virus.

But life goes on.  Ibuprofen and Airborne are my friends, because I feel better and function better when they're my friends.

And as long as you don't kiss me or drink out of my water bottle, you should be fine.

And some fun news...

We're excited to be going back to Omaha next week to visit Gabby's sister and former friends, fantastic foster mom, etc...

Meanwhile, enjoy the fall pictures.

Joie was ticked that we had to go see the "stupid fall leaves."

Great picture.  In reality she was running away from the camera.

Then she got into the whole idea of Hunger Games and suddenly the fall leaves weren't stupid anymore.

Then

Something about rugby conditioning...
He packs her around a lot lately, and obviously, she doesn't mind.

They  hiked up from the clearing below where Jeran somehow got them to sit and just take it all in and create a mental picture of their visit to the mountains.  They had a Walden Pond moment.

You would not believe how hard it was to convince Nate to join a family picture.
(Not like you couldn't tell from the look on his face.)

The Whole Family Got Promoted

How often is it the whole family gets promoted all at once?  Really.  Pretty rare, right?

Well, it happened to the Jarmans.

For starters, all five children got promoted to new grades in school.  Nate is a (gulp) junior in high school.  Megan and Jeran are high school freshmen.  Joie is a "sevie"  (a.k.a. seventh grader), and Gabby is in 5th grade.

Back to school pics...

My neighbor was kind enough to take one of Gabby.  (I have a legitimate excuse.  Really.  Just keep reading.)

Gabby and her walking buddy, McKenna, whose mom will double as a pseudo mom in a pinch and does amazing things like sign planners for Gabby when she forgets to have me sign it, and takes back to school pics of my children.  Don't they look thrilled?

And some real back-to-school photos.  Adjusting to the schedule was hard work for Gabby...

Asleep on mom's lap during Family Home Evening

Another one:

Second day of school...asleep running errands after school

And no one else fought sleep either.  We've all been recovering from a summer cold, and tired was going around.

Then on Wednesday, in the middle of a week of intense teaching, Tim got long awaited news that he got a promotion he put in for months and months ago...like last spring.  (Extremely loud, very exuberant cheering.)  Well deserved, indeed.  He's amazing like that.

I was also promoted.  (And just how do you get a promotion when you're a private practice therapist?)  You move to a bigger office, with a lot of colleagues, maintain your private practice status (read:  still be your own boss), and in partnership with a group of like-minded clinicians (read:  over exposure to pure awesomeness), you offer a wider range of services and pinch yourself because you could have never imagined, in a million years, you'd be doing something this amazing.

Last June we signed the lease.  In July we painted and got new carpet (in all our spare time), and in August we waited...and decorated (not me, but others who have the decorating gift), got our city licenses, changes addresses with insurance panels, and a hundred other little details associated with moving.  Finally, this last week, we moved.  (...The week school started...insane, right?  Which is why I don't have back to school picture, but I did get all my children to school every day with back to school paperwork and notes signed, school supplies bought, and to all their gazillion practices, mostly on time). And I saw a full caseload, furnished and decorated a play therapy room, and my own office...

My family has been stellar!  They're troopers, I tell you.  Troopers!

They helped.

A lot.

And the end result is something really amazing.  I see my first clients Tuesday in my new office.  Exciting doesn't begin to describe how I feel.  (Check us out by clicking on our logo below.)

After months and months of work and waiting, South Valley Clinical services is a reality.

And of course there was celebration involved...

Times like this feel soooooooo good.

And Nate topped it off with a new personal best time on a cold-ish, sort of rainy morning cross country meet.  

Now that's a wrap!

Memories and Meaning Making

I don't know where to begin.  My heart if full of gratitude that helped us pay it forward today.  For all those who participated in Random Acts of Kindness:  Celebrating 5 years of Kindness, thank you, thank you, thank you.  Sometimes those words don't seem like enough, but it's all I have.

Thank you.

I've said before that we've always tried to make this day meaningful.  

I've explained before where the idea for Random Acts of Kindness came, and as always, it was a blessing to reach out--probably more of a blessing to us than to those who received Random Acts of Kindness (at least that's how I usually end up feeling).  I've asked people to share experiences, which I  have a hard time doing, because the anonymity of what happened is important to me.  I also encouraged the kids to just listen to their hearts through the day and act on feelings of kindness and helping others.  Isn't it an amazing feeling when you act on a impression, and it ends up being exactly what was needed?  It's the incredible nature of kindness. There is no end.

I'm not sure where the idea came from for watching the sunrise today.  Watching a sunrise with my kids was on my summer bucket list this year, and today seemed like a good day.  

The location?  Cedar Fort, home and burial place of Joie's family...about a 45 minute drive from our house.

I told the kids last night they could go if they wanted to go, but they didn't have to (and of course I added that we'd be stopping to get donuts for breakfast).  

By 5:00 a.m. we were all heading out the door.  

The Chevron by our house sells Krispy Kreme donuts...  What were they thinking not opening at 5:00 a.m. for us???  

Next stop, grocery store that sells fresh donuts...  Also not open.

We decided on donuts after the sunrise.  (Then saw a sign at another gas station on the way...  Donuts!  And chocolate milk.)

We made it to Cedar Fort before the sun.  Joie climbed out of the Durango first thing, and made herself comfy.  What a picture...more tears.

And everyone else did their best to get comfy too...

Megan and her BFF, Satori

I think he was having second thoughts...

Satori, Megan, and Jeran

Seriously...do you know any other family who is this comfortable at a cemetery?

Eventually Joie and Gabby decided on a better view...

Sitting on top of the Durango

All of Utah is smoky this year.  We haven't had many clear days because of all the wildfires.  The smoke made the sunrise bright red.

There is so much meaning in a sunrise, don't you think?  I thought of how we don't know what the day will bring, and how none of us know five years ago what that day would bring.

Mostly when I think of sunrises, I think of new beginnings.  New days are a gift--a chance to move forward.  

This afternoon we met family in Brigham City for the  Brigham City temple open house.  Brigham City is also close to where the accident took place.  It was the UHP office in Brigham City that got the call, and was on the scene taking care of all the details...  And with the  meaning of temples, families, and all, it just seemed like a good place to be today.

Becky, Larry & family; our family; my parents

And it was good to see this face again today...

Megan must have thought so too, because there are more pictures of Nate than anyone else on the camera.  (Nate has been back on the farm again for the past few weeks, and is finally home for the school year...and I only embarrassed him a little by hugging him in the parking lot when I saw him.)

Temple then fun (no pictures, but swimming and cousins are always a good combination).  And Jaci and her girls were kind enough to stop by when we were swimming.  Wish we lived closer!  It was so good to see them again for a few minutes.

And our day ended with a sunset...  Sunsets can be just as meaningful.

Yesterday Tim took the kids to lunch.  This was Joie's fortune in her cookie...  I love it when they're right.  

Support...  That's a good way to describe what we feel.  There's no way to ever pay forward all the kindness that comes our way, but it sure is good to try.  

Again, thank you, thank you, thank you.