Growing up...

When Maryn and Brynna were little we used to watch "America's Funniest Videos" almost every night together as a family. We loved it, but then the routine got dropped for some reason. A few nights ago we re-discovered it on Netflix. This time though with two more kids who are now the same ages Maryn and Brynna were when we were last regulars to the show. It was so cute seeing my Little Women lined up on the couch; snuggling, laughing, yelling at the screen and when it was all done re-enacting their favorite clips.

Devyn has officially become one of the big girls. Which really blows my mind because it seems like even in the last week she has grown leaps and bounds. It makes me wonder what one more week might bring! She got the jokes, jumped in on the wrestling match and huskily marched around the room yelling, laughing at everything and pulling crazy, cute grins. Tonight we asked Brynna to call Maryn and Lauryn down for dinner. Instead Devyn marched to the bottom of the stairs and hollered "Maaaaayn, Yahhhh, iiiinnnn!!" ("Maryn, Lauryn dinner!") with perfect inflection. Justin and I traded glances as if to say "When the heck did she start talking?!"

It's so weird how our family is growing up. When you are in the thick of your labor-intensive years of raising small children you think it is never going to end. You think it will last forever. But lately I have seen small glimpses of new phases on the horizon. It's exciting and sad at the same time. Maryn told me the other day "Mom, I don't really want to grow up....but I do feel like I am becoming a young lady." I had to stifle a chuckle at her choice of words because she was so serious. But hey, if they have to grow up I'll accept their goal of becoming young ladies!

I know I can't stop the steady hand of time, ever progressing forward. Some days it makes me a little sad to know that our time as parents of young children won't be around forever. But seeing how the girls have grown already, and seeing how proud they make me to be their mom, I find peace in knowing that whatever phase of life we are in, it will be fulfilling as long as we are all together.

If you don't have anything nice to say...

...don't say anything at all, right?

But I just.can't.resist!!

I posted this to my Facebook status tonight and immediately deleted it for fear of offending some people on my friend's list who could benefit from this advice....

I get annoyed by people who refuse to grow up. If you have graduated from high school, that means it's time to stop acting like you are still 16 and let life change you in good ways. Put your boobs back in your shirt, quit taking five million posey pictures of yourself and go be a productive human being who grasps that there is a universe beyond the end of your cute, little nose. Sorry I just had to get that off my chest.

Truthfully, even if my 16-year-old acted the way some of these full grown adults act I would be embarrassed. When did it become "hot" to dress like a hooker, drink like a sailor, and be so self-absorbed that your greatest joy in life is capturing new and seductive poses of yourself?

Why would you want to seduce the entire Facebook population anyway? Doesn't that just scream "I don't think enough of myself, so I have to try and sell my sexuality and attractiveness to other people so I can be validated by a complete array of random people in my life."?

It's weird to me.

I have nothing against sexy. Sexy is good. For the right audience. Particularly the one you actually share a bed with. Grandma doesn't need to see your sex kitten. Random friend from high school doesn't need to see you getting your 30-year-old self sloshed pressed up like a lesbo against your best friend. Cousin doesn't need to see you pose with furry, kitty cat ears and that ridiculous kissy-face people make that they think makes them look "SOOOOO HAWT!!!"

Even at Costco today some chick was shopping with her boyfriend/husband and baby who had the most ENORMOUS boobs I have ever seen popping out of her tiny, spaghetti-strap tank. We are talking about unprecedented levels of cleavage here people. At least from what I have seen publicly displayed. Think longer than a butt crack... and this chick was tiny. So ridiculously unproportionate... but that's another story. Back to the point. Her husband/boyfriend apparently loved the boobage. So much so that he proudly displayed her in a seductive, ample-bosomed pose tattooed on his bicep....as they are grocery shopping with their baby.

Because nothing turns me on like shopping for toilet paper with my kid in tow. Gotta see/expose every inch possible of those sweet ta-ta's as I buy ketchup and frozen chicken. Right?!

Am I the only one that thinks this is weird? Am I the only one that thinks their grandkids are going to be seriously grossed out by grandma being preserved in ink in all her sexual glory on grandpa's arm? Am I the only one who thinks if sex kitten is out all the time, what makes it exciting when it's actually time to get down to business?

I could go on, but the moral of the story and my rant is...get your sexy on people. Just don't subject the general population to it. And also don't let it define you. Don't let the only thing you have to offer be a kissy-face and arm-length self-portrait. Because it's so played out it doesn't really impress anyone anymore. All it accomplishes is making you look like a desperate, self-absorbed fool. And really, who finds that attractive?

Rant over.

I'm baaaaaack!!

Happy January 1st everyone!! I really am excited to hop back in the blogging saddle again. I'm not saying that I even have anything interesting to say; but like completing my Project 365 yesterday on the last day of 2011, I know the act of being better about journaling is something that will be so worth it when I look back on it. I am excited to be better about documenting all that lies ahead of The Young Crew in 2012!

2012 Intentions

As hereby promise that as soon as I am done with Project 365 for 2011 I will be a better blogger.....and I can say that because anything is an improvement from my current upkeep of this poor blog! ;)

For Mary Elizabeth

Tonight I received a phone call that I knew would come someday. But it didn't stop the sting and mix of emotions when it finally did come. My Dad's tearful voice on the other end of the line let me know that my Nana had passed away.

Part of me was in disbelief at first because I had just been talking to Justin about her, around the time my Dad said she actually passed. I was talking about how I wanted to see her. She and my Aunt Jody, who has so lovingly taken care of her, have been on my mind the past week. I was wondering how long she would have to remain in her infirmed state. It has been three years since her life-changing stroke and I wanted for her to be whole again.

My first reaction to the news was relief for my Nana. I had been thinking about how frail she has gotten and how hard every little daily task is for her. When I heard she passed, I imagined in my mind's eye her walking through the veil of this life and into the next. I imagined her body and mind being restored. I imagined her being welcomed by all those who had passed before her. And I was happy for her.

Then over the line I heard my own mother say "I am happy for her." and then her voice cracked as she continued "But she is my mother." In that moment my heart broke as I thought of my own mom and how this must feel. I immediately thought of how devastated I will be when that day comes when I have to say goodbye to her. My relief turned to sadness as the realization of the situation settled on me.

Through the mix of emotions though, I find myself so grateful for the life of my Nana. Her walk was not always easy, but she endured. She has taught me to endure and I am grateful for the legacy that she forged for me. After her stroke three years ago, as we sat in her hospital room, she kept talking about the light. She had lost almost all her verbal skills and yet she kept persisting about The Light. She saw a light. She was ready to go to it. She was prepared to meet her God. When she realized it wasn't her time she was upset, because she was so ready. But her work wasn't done.

Now, in retrospect, I am able to see the purpose of her staying. Of what a little, fragile, white-haired, mostly non-verbal woman was able to accomplish in her remaining years on Earth. And I am yet again amazed at God's goodness and plan for each and every one of us.

I feel a peace, as I sit here and type, that my Nana fulfilled her purpose and it was her time to rest from this mortal state. I will miss her so very much. The softness of her skin. The feel of her manicured nails as they softly scratched your back. I will miss the way she always coiffed her hair and sucked in her cheeks for pictures. I will cherish memories of her annual visits every Christmas as a child. I will cherish the memory of her standing outside her little house on Northview waving as we would pull away after a visit. I will miss and cherish the letters and cards I would find in my mailbox in her perfect, cursive handwriting. I will miss so much about the small but amazing woman I named my firstborn after. She truly touched my life.

I am grateful to my core for the knowledge I have that families are forever. I feel so much peace at knowing that this parting is but temporary. I find myself with even greater resolve to live my life according to God's plan, so that someday I can meet with her again.

Meatloaf Beatloaf

If the kids hadn't been at the table I probably would have turned into Randy from 'A Christmas Story' and started whining and chucking it around my plate.

Just for the record, I made the sickest meatloaf ever last night. And I don't mean sick in a good way like "Ah man, that meatloaf was sick!" It literally was sick. Disgusting. I spit it out in my napkin. Which was sad because I found the recipe on a site that is usually pretty good to me. This time...not so much.

You want to know the funnier part? My children loved it. Yes, those same children who hassle me practically every night about how much they hate this or that. They loved the sick-o meatloaf. In fact, they ate up theirs and then asked if they could eat mine up too. Go figure.

Thoughts on Sister Hinckley

“I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails. I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp. I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children. I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone's garden. I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder. I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.”
-Marjorie Pay Hinckley

The first time I read this quote I was in my mid-twenties. I thought it was a lovely sentiment, but I remembered thinking "I don't know... I wouldn't mind a good manicure and some good looking clothes and a nice car. And being okay with sticky on you? Can't I be a good person and not want sticky on my shirt?"

The long and short of it was, I didn't get it. Of course there is nothing wrong with a good manicure. But what I failed to grasp five or six years ago was the feeling that when you lose yourself in living life, specifically a life in service to God and others, all those other things become peripheral. I failed to understand that you find more joy in helping others than you ever could in solely taking care of yourself.

I just love every bit of the way Sister Hinckley worded that. It gives me a feeling of peace that yes, my van may at times look like a rolling garbage can. Yes, my laundry pile may never be completely conquered. Yes, I may wear the same pants three days in a row...but fulfillment isn't just found in the things the eye can see.

I am okay if some things get put aside so that I can write a family member, or watch a friend's child, or make a pot of soup for someone you care about who is sick or whatever it is. Those are the things that matter. Not a vision of perfection, but the reality of solid relationships. The reality of knowing that this one life we have to live was spent in the ways that really matter.