Family pics

My dear friend Melanie took our family pictures last week and she already has some up on her photography website. Go look at them. We are the first family one, there is one under the portrait section of Leighton (did I really have a hand in making that beautiful boy?), and then a few of Andrew and me in the couples section. Can I confess that I think we look amazing? I have been staring at our little family for several minutes and for some reason these pictures make me want to cry. Is that really us? For real? Thank you, Melanie. You are the best.

Wedded bliss

I put a little bit of pressure on myself to write a stellar blog post about Andrew coming home. Seeing as how it was the greatest event in my life so far (besides marrying him), I wanted a blog post to match. But after having him back for 11 days now and having that long to think about what I want to remember about this time, I decided to lose the self-imposed pressure. Because all I really want to remember about these weeks is how incredibly happy I am.

















When we got married, I remember wishing we had taken a picture of our rings together. You know how people do that - their rings stuck in the bouquet or some other staged photo like that. But a few days after Andrew got home, I got my own, unstaged wedding ring picture. We were in the kitchen doing the dishes together, and the kids were playing nearby. I glanced up on the window sill and saw our rings sitting there together and got the most overwhelming feeling of contentment. We belong together. I am so happy to have my Andrew home.

Homeward Bound

Andrew is on his way home. He started his 32-hour flight this morning and will be returning sometime tomorrow evening.

As I spend my last evening alone, I find myself reflecting on the past 128 days, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. As I said our family prayer this evening, I got teary-eyed as I thanked the Lord for this experience and his protection over all 4 of us.

There were many hard moments, and I did many hard things that I'm proud of. I potty-trained Eva. I flew alone with both kids 6 times, once where we had the stomach flu. I went through airport security alone with both kids 6 times (which deserves its own mention, don't you think?). Most recently, I dealt with all things financial when my wallet was lost. (Thankfully, it is now restored to me, along with my peace of mind.) I mowed the lawn. I nursed sick kids back to health several times. I registered the van and the motorcycle. I went grocery shopping at least 30 times with both kids. I went to church 20 times, and every time I left that 3-hour block I felt like I had just won a major battle (although many times I also felt defeated). I fulfilled my calling in Young Women's. I finished reading the Book of Mormon. I lost 16 pounds. I kept our beautiful children fed, safe, and happy, for the most part.

128 nights in a row, I prayed for our protection. And 128 nights in a row, we were blessed with exactly what I asked for. Now, on the eve of our reunion, I feel grateful and triumphant. I have come to the end of the hardest time of my life so far, and tomorrow it will all be over.

Thanks be to God - we did it.

5 years ago

5 years ago tonight, I fell in love with my husband. You may remember last October when I posted about the first time I met Andrew. Well, this year it's the story of how I fell in love with him.

The point where I left off my story last year was the part where Andrew left Idaho without getting my number. (RUDE.) He had this stupid dating motto, "Don't force it, don't deny it." He eventually got my number from Clay. I had a brief 2 week (lame) relationship with a boy named Jared at the time, and I wasn't interested in Andrew much at all. He had left, and I thought I would probably never hear from him again. But he called a couple times and we had a few conversations. Nothing to get excited about, but we kept in contact.

It came to pass that we were both heading to Utah for Halloween. My little sister Sarah was getting baptized that weekend (her birthday is on Halloween), and I don't know what reason Andrew had. Except maybe the magnetic force of my stunning beauty practically dragged him from Colorado to my parents' house in Utah.

We had talked on the phone a couple times throughout the day on October 29 and had planned for all the boys to come over to my house sometime. It got to be very late at night and Andrew kept not coming, but he kept calling to postpone the get-together. It was getting close to midnight. I had (of course) told my mom about the date earlier that month, but to prepare her to meet him, I told her I didn't like Andrew and I wasn't impressed with him. I told her he seemed to lack any ambition. (If you know Andrew, you know this isn't true - but you also know that's the vibe he likes to give off.) My parents (actually, most of my family, oddly enough) were still awake when Andrew and his friends (Chris, Will...who else was there?) arrived after midnight. There was an awkward moment at the door when Andrew was the last of the group to walk in and I gave him an odd hug. He still wonders why I did that, but I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do.

They came in and sat on the couch (with my whole family present) and chatted away for a good, long while. Andrew, with his natural hilarious sense of humor, had my family rolling. (He still does that every time he talks to them.) After they left, my mom told me how much she liked him. I had been surprised how comfortable he had been around my family as there was so much awkwardness on our first date. We made a plan to hang out the next day, October 30, 2004. Early that afternoon I went to a golf store with Andrew and his brothers Talon and Perry (and Christi). I was impressed by Andrew again - especially with his killer golf swing. We seemed to get along really well and I felt so much myself with him.

That night, Andrew, accompanied by dateless Will Graff, Chris Culver, Chase Webster, and Mike Graff, picked me up and we headed up to Salt Lake to Rocky Point Haunted House.

I HATE haunted houses. I hate anything remotely scary. Why I agreed to go here is beyond me. But it was well worth the scares. Andrew kept his arms wrapped tightly around me the entire time. (It wasn't really his choice - I was clinging to him so hard he was sore the next day. I would not let him let go.) It was far from a romantic atmosphere, but that was the beginning of one of the things I love most about Andrew: he makes me feel so safe.

We left the haunted house and headed back south to drop me off. It started snowing during the drive, and I remember looking over at Andrew driving and then looking at the snow and feeling this twirly feeling in my stomach. I felt giddy, but yet so calm. We didn't talk much on the way home - I didn't have much to say. I was so happy in the dark with the snow falling and this handsome boy next to me. We got to my house and he got out of the car to say good-bye. He gave me a hug, and the feeling of his arms around me made my stomach flip again.

With the ending of that night began our long-distance dating period. I was in my last few months of college at BYU-Idaho, and Andrew was still imprisoned at the Air Force Academy. But I knew I would stick with him as long as he would let me.

In December I decided to give Andrew a gift of the 12 days of Christmas. I worked for several days on finding cute little things (like a skiing man magnet that is still on our fridge) to give him and writing lame little poems to go with them. I was sitting on the floor of my apartment wrapping all the gifts and thinking about how excited I was to see him again. Suddenly I got this strange, strong feeling that I was going to marry Andrew. I knew it with my whole heart. I can't really explain it, but it was a feeling I went back to many times over the months ahead.

I graduated from college and moved home to Utah. We dated long distance until July, when I decided enough was enough, and I moved to Colorado. But that's another story for another time. Maybe next October. :)

My body thanked me today.

Because I didn't give birth.

According to the space of time between Eva and Leighton, and if I had been insane enough to do that spacing again, I would have given birth today.

Thank heavens that didn't happen.

I am happy to report that I am still a mom of just two, and Leighton is still my baby.

Hand Foot and Mouth Disease

Could there be a nastier name for a sickness? It gives me the mental image of kids walking around Walmart barefoot and then sucking on their feet to get the disease.

But it is confimed: Eva has it. And considering its highly contagious nature, I was assured by the doctor that Leighton will get it too. Which means at least another 5 days of being quarantined in my house with crying children. Awesome.

On a high note, I discovered the miracle that is Tylenol suppositories. With Eva's severe aversion to oral medication, I decided that was the only option. Within an hour of "administering" said suppository, she was back to normal. No more screaming and crying - she happily colored at her art table with me for an hour, drank some milk, and even ate a graham cracker, which was the first food she's had in days. So for now, all is well.

But that may change in the middle of the night when Leighton wakes up with a fever again.

Oh, hand, foot, and mouth disease, I abhore you.

One of those days, times 93

Today was one of those days where:

We woke up around 9am after a night of very little sleep.

We stayed in our pajamas all day.

I didn't clean my house at all, and I didn't dirty any dishes.

I realized as we pulled up to Jack in the Box for dinner that I hadn't brushed my teeth yet.

Leighton fell off the table (why was he standing on the table?) and started bleeding from the inside and outside of his little cheek.

Eva cried ALL day and couldn't eat anything without screaming in pain. Pretty sure she has strep throat.

We almost finished off a bottle of Motrin.

I thought of every possible way to disguise Motrin, but Eva is no easy target. She can smell medicine from a mile away and starts a temper tantrum at the mere mention of the word.

I called my mom crying.

I called to ask a friend for help, which I HATE to do, and had her husband run to the store and get us some chewable Tylenol. Which Eva still wouldn't eat, despite my telling her it was candy.

The television was on almost all day. Barney, I'm so sick of you I could throw up in your face.

I put the kids down almost an hour early, and I'm gearing up for another night of hell.

17 more days until Andrew comes home. And if that's not an eternity, I don't know what is.

Sick season is upon us in FULL force.

Tonight I was making a last-minute dinner of pancakes, and both kids were freaking out wanting me to hold them. (Oh, how I love dinner times without Andrew. Cooking a real meal is no small miracle.) I appeased them with frozen blueberries (their favorite treat) and enjoyed a few minutes of silence.

Then Eva came in the kitchen and said, "Mama, I'm sick. But I don't want medicine." And then added cheerfully, "Thank you, though!" I laughed harder than I had all day. I hadn't even offered her medicine. That girl sure HATES medicine.

Midway through FHE at our friend's house, she started running a fever (I think) and got really lethargic and tired. We immediately left for home and I put her down to bed.

Sick kids - the bane of my existence. I know it's terrible, but more than feeling sympathy for Eva I feel resentment that I'll have to miss boxing class tomorrow. I'm sure I'm supposed to learn something from all of this. Patience, maybe?

I did it.

After a couple months of hard work, I finally got back down to the weight I was when I got married. (Not to say that it's is my ideal, but it was a big goal of mine.)

On a whim, today I pulled out all my old "small" clothes I had been saving. I decided to try them on, just for fun. There was my favorite skirt from college, a pair of shorts I bought for my honeymoon (including the ones in the honeymoon picture above), and a couple other shorts from years gone by. One by one, I put them all on. And one by one, I was surprised when they fit. There was no tugging of the zipper, no disappointment upon looking in the mirror. Only a thrill of pride when I saw that I had a bunch of new, old clothes.

Unfortunately, they are all summer clothes, and we are well into fall now. Guess I'll have to go shopping.

We miss Grandma

My mom came this past Wednesday and left this morning. Eva is so sad and keeps asking for her, and I'm feeling a bit lonely myself. We had a wonderful time with her here, and she put my life back in order. Mowed my lawn, weeded my jungle (which used to be a garden, but it doesn't qualify as that anymore), got my new sewing machine up and running, helped my complete a plethora of sewing projects (including the kids' Christmas pajama pants), did my dishes, entertained my kids, slept in Eva's bed with Eva every night, let me go to the gym and take my sweet time working out alone, sat in the car with the kids while I grocery shopped, and many other helpful little things. To all you who live close to your moms, count yourselves lucky. Come back soon, Grandma!

100 days

Today was a landmark - 100 days of deployment.

It was a really hard day with lots of tears. Not because of the deployment or missing Andrew(unfortunately, I've gotten used to that) but because I just felt so overwhelmed with everything I had to do. I stood in the kitchen, surrounded by messes everywhere I looked, with a view of my overgrown, neglected garden and backyard, with both kids screaming after Eva peed her pants again, and I just cried. I didn't know where to start or what to do next. Dishes, laundry, cleaning, the soap scum on the kitchen sink, picking up Leighton's food he flung all over the dining room, the filthy toilets in all 3 bathrooms, sorting through the mail, unpacking from our trip...How could I even begin to tackle all that was looming over me?

So I said a prayer, turned on some Christmas music for the first time this year, lit my new delicious Scentsy candle, and got to work. The kitchen is clean (not the floor yet - there's always tomorrow), 1 and a half toilets are clean, a load of laundry is washed and in the dryer (including Eva's wet clothes) and I'm feeling a little better. My mom is coming tomorrow, and I guess if I don't get it all done, I'll just be glad it's my mom and not the prophet coming to visit. Although the prophet might not notice the cleanliness of my sink. My mom most certainly will.

Thankfully, I only have 30 more days of doing it all alone. There is light at the end of the tunnel.

P.S. If anyone knows a teenage boy in need of some extra cash, I need a lawn mowing and weeding guy. No price is too high to get that off my list of things to worry about.

New Header

Let it be known that I was as surprised as you were to see my blog's new look. I clicked "publish" last night, and when I saw my blog I thought there must be some mistake. It looks like my husband had some extra time on his hands. Is that really what I look like, honey? I guess I'll keep it for a while, just for fun.