The Radio Has Spoken

The school year has begun.

My oldest two girls are in high school, All-a-Boy is in middle school and the next 4 littles are in elementary.  (Yes, Curly is now in kindergarten, and she is beside herself with joy over it.)

I have been pretty proud of myself for all that I have stayed on top of.  I signed all the beginning of the year disclosure documents (save a tree, for the love!), made sure the kids are doing their homework as soon as they get home, and they're all reading and practicing and (mostly) getting their chores done. 

As I drove the littles to elementary school this morning, I was going through my mental checklist of things they needed and asking them out loud.

"Everyone has their shoes on, right?"

Check.  (I've learned the hard way that although it seems obvious, this is an important question.)

"Backpacks?"

Check.

"Lunches?"

Check.

But something still seemed amiss.

"Did you guys all brush your teeth?"

Um, not really.  One kid even said, "I did it yesterday!" and another said, "I'll do it after school."  But we were pulling up to the school curb, so what could I do?  I passed out mints and reminded them to have their best day, EVER.  Fuzzy teeth with minty-fresh breath?  Good enough for the guys I go with.

As I watched them run off to their class lines, I figured it out.  I saw what wasn't quite right.

Hubba was wearing the same clothes he had worn yesterday.  The exact same outfit, down to the strawberry stain on his right sock.  

No one else will notice, I tried to convince myself.  And at that point, what could I do about it?  Should I call him back to the car, take him home, get him changed, and bring him back?

I knew what I needed to do.  It was one of those times where I needed to let the radio decide.  (Everyone does this, right?)

I turned the radio on, volume down.  I pushed radio button number 4, then slowly turned it up to see what advice would be given.

Bono was singing to me, near the end of the lyrics from Beautiful Day.

Talk to me, Bono.  I said.  What do I do?

And he answered with,  It was a beautiful day! Don't let it get away. Beautiful day...

Okay, yeah, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, whatever, I responded.  But what am I supposed to DO, here, Bono?  My kid's wearing the exact same clothes he wore yesterday!  Help a girl out! 

So Bono, nice man that he is, kept singing to me:

What you don't have you don't need it now
What you don't know you can feel it somehow
What you don't have you don't need it now
Don't need it now...




I think it was the best, most direct advice I have ever gotten from my Magic Radio 8-Ball game.


It could have been worse, I told myself.  He could have still been in his pajamas.



And then I drove home.

Thanks, Bono.

My Friend, Jason

You may have noticed my absence here on my blog recently.  I have had a difficult couple of weeks, as I learned about the loss of one of my best friends, Jason Zimmerman, on August 11th.  He was best known online as Teachinfourth, but in real life I knew him as an amazing teacher to 5 of my kids, a talented photographer who graciously took pictures of my family each year while refusing to accept payment, a thoughtful and full-of-surprises weekend companion for Allen and I, and an unconditionally loving and concerned friend who made time to be a part of my life.  Maybe you've read some of his Moments With Joey posts.  Or maybe you've seen some of his phenomenal photography or read the words he could always lace together in such beautiful ways.  His absence from this world has had a profound effect on me as well as many others, and it is difficult to imagine life ever really being the same without him here.  

I tried to write something to honor my friend, but the words would not come.  However, when his sister asked me to speak at his memorial service this past Saturday, I knew I could not say no. 

Here is what I shared there:

This is my attempt at using words to honor the life of my friend, Jason.  I’m not sure how I can adequately cover so many years of a life well-lived into the short time I have to share my thoughts with you.  Honestly, there are no words to do this justice.  So bear with me as I try.

I love this poem that a friend of Jason’s shared with me:

The Measure of a Man

Not – “How did he die?”
But – “How did he live?”
Not – “What did he gain?”
But – “What did he give?”
These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man, as a man, regardless of birth.
Not – “What was his station?”
But – “Had he a heart?”
And – “How did he play his God-given part?”
Was he ever ready with a word of good cheer?
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
Not – “What was his church?”
Nor – “What was his creed?”
But – “Had he befriended those really in need?”
Not – “What did the sketch in the newspaper say?”
But – “How many were sorry when he passed away?”

These are the units to measure the worth
Of a man, as a man, regardless of birth.

I think Jason measures up pretty well.

Here’s what I know about Jason.  Jason was a lover of Dr. Pepper, Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, Peanut Butter M&Ms, Safeway M&M cookies, Maple Bars (especially from Linn’s Grocery Store in Hurricane), Bacon, and he loved Sundried Tomato and Basil Wheat Thins with a fiery passion.  He loved spending time with his friends at Zupas, Cafe Rio, Carrabbas, The Cheesecake Factory, even Chuck-o-Rama, but most especially Texas Roadhouse where he loved trying to get everyone to embarrass themselves by sitting on that crazy contraption they bring around.

He mastered the art of creating cakeballs and was the inventor of the always famous Chunk-a-Poo cookies.  He was a connoisseur of great music who knew the names of every song and artist in his vast collection.  He also loved to discover new bands and songs and share them with his friends.  

I do not know anyone who knew and loved the deserts of southern Utah as Jason did.  He always looked forward to the time he spent there and shared the hidden beauties of the desert with us through his photography.  And speaking of photography, his skills behind the camera were unmatched.  He had a way of knowing just how to capture the light and what angles to use to photograph the beauties of the world around him in such a way that you were drawn to visit the places in his pictures.  We treasure the family photos he has taken over the years.  We have always been amazed at his ability to capture the personalities of each family member so well.  It was almost as if he had a magic lens.

Jason always carried little notebooks with him, everywhere he went.  He would pull one out and write down ideas as they came to him.  This was a part of what made him such an awesome writer.  He could take his ideas and weave words together in a way that his writing created pictures in your mind.  And it wasn’t only like that with writing.  The things he said always seemed to come out just right, too – as if he’d been waiting for just the right moment to use that particular string of words.

I think it is safe to say that Jason is probably best known and most loved here in Provo as Mr. Z, the phenomenal superhero teacher.  He knew and loved every child in his classroom and would spend countless hours outside of school time to help them succeed.  One friend made this observation after visiting his class:

Jason handled the room the way a magician handles an audience. He treated his kids pretty much the way he treated us grownups, with that wry, limit-setting tongue of his—sometimes a little sharp, but only because he respects us enough to give us a straight-up answer.  But the thing that gave me the most insight into him was what I saw in the halls of that school as we came back in from recess. It was like the man was a magnet, walking through a hallway full of iron filings.  Kids would leap out of the student flow and attach themselves to him - throw their arms around him and bury their faces in his shirt. That, or throw words at him, like they had five seconds to get in a round of speed tennis.

And he always knew the perfect words to throw right back.

Mr. Z had a passion for reading and love for learning that he passed along to each of his students.  His favorite authors and books became the favorites of many of his students as well, especially after hearing him bring the books to life as he read them aloud to his classes.  He will always be remembered for the voices he would use as he read aloud, making stories so much more fascinating to those who had the pleasure of listening to them.  Some of his former students have mentioned that their favorite books to hear Jason read aloud were James and the Giant Peach, A Return to Christmas, Time for Andrew,  The Watsons Go To Birmingham, The Boys Start the War & The Girls Get Even.

One class especially loved a unique book that he read to them, called Take the Long Way Home.  When he had finished reading the story to them, he surprised them all by telling them that the book was one he had actually written himself. 

His students will always remember the super activities he planned for those who completed their assignments: from BBQs at the park with night games, trips to Comedy Sportz, to movie nights at the dollar theater with BYU ice cream for everyone afterward.  They will never forget playing Star Wars in the gym.  They will always remember the names that Jason gifted to certain students, ones that every kid secretly wished had been crowned upon them - Muffin, Muffin Top, Peanut Butter Cup, Cupcake, Mumbo and Jumbo, Chica Marica, Stinky, Unicorn, everyone's middle name was Aloicious, and anyone named Juan got to hear, "You're number Juan!" all year long.

It was always a special treat to have music time with Mr. Z.  He would bring out his guitar and teach his students the songs that would transport them back to his classroom whenever they heard them later in life.  Songs like Don't Stop, Sandwiches, 500 Miles, Sweet Home Alabama, Going to the Zoo, The Cat Came Back, Cat's in the Cradle, The Winter Song, No Brains, Autumn to May, Clean Up Your Room, Kiss the Girl (with students names inserted in just the right places), Foolish Frog, You Ain’t Going Nowhere,  Free to Be You and Me, Puff the Magic Dragon, If I Ran the World, and, more recently, he tortured his class with Baby by Justin Bieber.  

But Justin Bieber had nothing on Mr. Z.  That guy could get kids to do anything!  If he told kids to lick a rusty pipe, they would do it. (And they did!)  He had them begging for him to write a huge ‘Z’ on their foreheads – in block lettering – with a permanent marker – on the last day of Expedition Red Rock.

And, speaking of Expedition Red Rock, he enjoyed taking students from Sunset View Elementary on the Expedition Red Rock trip along with his colleagues and friends to explore the beauties of Goblin Valley.  It was always a bonus for the kids in his class who attended each year  and got to take an exclusive hike to the (whispered:) white mountains.

His classroom was full of unexpected surprises.  There was Stanley the Stoplight, Trips to Australia, his class newspaper: 'In Z-News', class T-shirts to wear on field trips, Calvin and Hobbes all over the place, the Downtime Machine, earning Bonus Bucks to spend at Market Day, Song Lyric studies, his unique hall passes (there really were rocks in that basketball, right? Not dead puppies?), and if you were really lucky you got to meet Wolffie.

For a long time Mr. Z had substitute teachers who would visit throughout the day on Halloween.  There was SirYesSir, Professor Snape, Obi-Wan, a pirate captain and even a Wal-mart greeter with multiple personalities named Earl.  For a few years his mysterious twin brother, Jessie, would show up to substitute as well.  The funny thing was, Jessie looked exactly identical to Jason in every way – but their personalities were quite a bit different.    

Mr. Z always took the time to unify his classes every year by playing team-building games and activities with them during class time and recess.  The other kids on the playground always looked on with envy as Jason’s class sang and did the actions to Czechoslovakia (Boom-Sha-Boom), or led each other blindfolded all over the playground. 

Jason always had a way of bringing people together.  Whether it was in his classroom, in his home, through his blog, or at some sort of gathering, he just had a knack for connecting people.  By the end of each school year, the students in Mr. Z’s classes were more like a close-knit group of friends rather than a room full of students.  

And Jason was not an easy teacher.  He believed in pushing his students to become their best.  Above his classroom door was a sign that read, "Through this door walk the greatest kids on earth".  And he really believed that.  He saw potential in each of them.  He didn't only teach his kids about math and language, he taught them life lessons.  How to treat others. The importance of being a good friend and working as a team.  He taught the importance of being kind and having a sense of humor.  He taught them to love who they were and that he loved who they were and the importance of always doing your best and working hard.

Mr. Z loved to challenge his students to reach the Foot Hall of Fame or even the Tall of Fame, as well as earning the Soaring Dragon or Ascending Aviator awards.  His end-of-year class programs always included a video presentation which reviewed the adventures they had enjoyed all year, but the best part was when he took the time to call each student forward and talk to the group about the special qualities and gifts he recognized in each of them.    
       
Jason was an amazing teacher everywhere he went.  I have a friend who was in his singles ward a while back.  She told me that she would never go to Sunday School unless he was teaching – because he was such an engaging teacher.  She mentioned that you always knew when Jason was teaching, because the halls were unusually empty during Sunday School on his weeks to teach.

Above all else, Jason was one of the most service-minded people I have known.  His friends, family, students and colleagues were his life.  He was always busy thinking of ways he could serve others in small ways.  He was always concerned for others and doing little things to bring smiles.  There are so many examples of this.  I’m going to just share a few with you.  

One friend of Jason’s was in a musical a couple of years ago. On opening  night the families of performers could get in for free.  However, her family was out of town, so she asked Jason if he would come.  He was there like a proud father, with his camera, snapping pictures and clapping loudly. It was a small theater in the round, so she could hear his laugh and was a little embarrassed - but also pleased by his loud “woo woo!” every once in awhile. But that’s not all – he actually came another night during the run of the show as well, knowing that she would appreciate his support. 

One of Jason’s former students shared this experience with me: She says, my ward held a 50/20 (where you walk 50 miles in 20 hours) and I wanted to join. I remember making it past the half way point when every person in my group slowly dropped out. When I was the last one standing, I was moved up with the group just ahead of us and continued the trek with them. This group was too fast for my little legs and I eventually was convinced to stop. I went home and was disappointed. My mom had already bought ice cream and treats to celebrate, but I didn’t finish. After a lot of thought and some help I decided to go back and finish. My dad took me to the place where I stopped and together we moved forward. As I came down the last street I saw a crowd of people cheering for me. At the end of the line was Mr. Z. I remember his redish car parked in the street playing music as he stood there grinning. He had even set up a finish line for me to break through as I walked the final steps. I can still picture his smiling face as he congratulated me. This guy knew how to make a kid feel special. I don’t know whose idea it was to contact him, but I know that he cared enough to come out there and not only support me amongst the crowd, but to make his presence known. I love this man. He taught me so much in and outside of the classroom.

One year Jason came to my husband Allen and asked if he could help him build some awards he had dreamed up for all of the teachers at his school.  He felt bad that not everyone could win the Golden Apple each year because he could think of reasons that each teacher deserved it.  So he thought up his own award, had them built and gave them anonymously, always denying any involvement and never looking for any thanks. 

He would also never let us pay him for taking pictures of our family and I'm sure many others here could say the same.  Even when he did charge a fee to anyone, it was well below what someone with his talent could earn.  He just loved being able to do this for others, to share his gifts.  Jason would often pay for an extra cone of soft-serve ice cream at Macey's and ask the cashier to give it to someone who looked like they needed it.  His good friend Janelle shared this story with me:

Valentine’s Day is one of the loneliest days of the year for singles. One Valentine’s Day, not too long ago, I showed up to work at my school and I saw a vase filled with a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting on the office counter. With a twinge of pity for myself, I wondered who they were for, then went on to my classroom. About 5 minutes later, the secretary brought the bouquet in to me! I was shocked. There was no note, and I spent the day deliberating who might have sent them. I suspected Jason right off because it was just the sort of thing he would do.  I eliminated a couple of other suspects, becoming more and more certain it was Jason. Then I called him on my way home from work to gage his reaction when I told him about this amazing bouquet of flowers I’d gotten anonymously. He pulled the innocent act, and never admitted openly to sending them, but I knew the truth.

These are just a few examples.  I am sure that each of you here can probably recall your own story where he did something to let you (or someone you know)  know that he was thinking of you and that you were important.  Something to make sure that you felt loved.

Jason had a way of making everyone feel special and loved.  He was easy to connect with and fun to be around.  My oldest son often asked if we could adopt Jason so that he could have a fun older brother. One of his former mission companions wrote the following, which illustrates well the kind of person Jason was:  

When I started a family of my own Jason quickly became the adopted uncle for my young boys. As they have grown up over the past several years they too have formed an amazing bond of love and friendship with Jason that will never be forgotten.  We were so blessed to have had the privilege of having Jason in our home on so many occasions that created so many wonderful memories that will always be cherished. These visits were always highly anticipated by our boys. They would be bouncing off the walls with excitement and yet those were the nights that they actually wanted to go to bed, they couldn’t wait. Because this meant that Jason would be telling a bedtime story. He would create these magical lands of mashed potato mountains and let the boys interact and help the story take twists and turns as they decided what would happen next. These stories started when my oldest son Tanner was just a small child. They have continued over the years as an ever evolving story that never ended. It just kept going the next time Jason would come for a visit. Now at 13, when most young men are outgrowing bedtime stories, he still looked forward to these stories from Jason. They were so special to them and will be greatly missed.

There are so many things we are going to miss. We will miss Christmas in September.  We will miss Hocus Pocus Night.  We will miss watching movies in his underground cinema.  We will miss his smile.  We will miss his humor and his quick wit.  We will miss his unconditional love.  We will miss our friend, our teacher, our brother.  

But our lives will always be “more better” for having known him.

 I found a quote that I loved, and I would like to share it with you.  It reads:

"Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends." ---Richard Bach

I know that there is life beyond this mortal life, and I find comfort in knowing that someday we will see Jason again.  I hope you can find comfort in knowing this, too.

 photo found here

If you would like to read the words that others have written in tribute to our friend Jason, there is something new being posted every day over at Four Perspectives. 

Twenty Awesome Years

Twenty years sounds like such a looooong time.  I can remember when I turned twenty years old, and the time it took to get there seemed endless.  Now I've been married to Allen for just as long as I didn't know him beforehand.  Lucky me!

Twenty years ago this morning I had a slight headache after waging a minor war with my little brother throughout the night regarding whether or not we should keep the window open in the room we were sharing at the Yardley Inn. Me: But I'm getting married tomorrow!  Can't we keep it shut?  Chip: How can you not appreciate this clean, fresh air?  It's good for you!  Me: (thinking) I'll wait until he's asleep and close it. Chip: (thinking) I'll wait until she's asleep and open it. 

My family arrived at the Manti Temple (where we were getting married) well in advance of Allen's family and I had a short window of time where I thought he may have changed his mind.  My worries dissolved when I saw him walk in, and here we are today.  Twenty years later.

If you enjoy cutesy photos and sappy love songs, this is the video for you.  But really, it's for Allen.

 

Happy 20th anniversary, Hon!  Thanks for sticking around - forever's looking pretty good on us.

We've Been Framed

Before Allen the Younger left on his church mission, he had one request.  "Mom, do you think you could put up a more current picture of me on the wall before I leave?"  His request was legitimate, especially considering how sad our picture wall has been for so many years:

The sad facts were obvious.  Two of my kids hadn't even made it on the wall yet, for one.  Also, most of these pictures were over 5 years old.  Not because I hadn't had newer pictures of the kids taken, but because I had them on my computer and was too lazy to have them printed out.  And I'm fully aware of the fact that placing the pictures in a straight line across the wall lacks any creativity as well as being completely aesthetically unpleasing.  Plus, buying new frames?  Creating a new layout?  Ugh.  I am about as far as you get from an interior designer, and our house shows it.  Simplicity reigns. 

Well, thanks to the YMCIA, I had the first step in my wall transformation taken care of: current pictures were printed off and resided at the top of my dresser.  I had even already collected a hodgepodge of great picture frames from local thrift stores which were being stashed in the garage loft.  I realized I just needed to get this done and dedicated a day to figuring the whole project out. 

First, I laid the pictures out on our bedspread until I found an arrangement that I liked.

Then I gathered my picture frames from the loft, dusted them off and laid them out on the table.

I removed all of the prints from the pictures and cleaned all of the glass.

Then set up a table outside for spray painting the frames black.  I decided this would pull the whole wall arrangement together better than leaving the frames in their hodgepodgey state.

I left the frames on the table to dry and then moved on to the next step in my process: sketching the layout.  I taped together two pieces of some leftover Christmas wrapping paper in the approximate size of the finished wall arrangement.

I then laid out the pictures the way I wanted them on the wall, but on the wrapping paper.  I took time to measure between pictures (I'm a little OCD) and scoot them around quite a bit.

I even rearranged some of the frames at one point because I felt like the balance was off...

Once I was happy with the layout and swapped a few pictures around into different frames, I traced around each picture with a sharpie.

I needed to tape the wrapping paper to the wall at this point, but I couldn't find any blue painter's tape.  I only had packing tape, which I knew would pull the paint off my wall and create a larger project.  I did not have the patience to drive to Home Depot and buy some painter's tape, so I decided instead to get creative.  I stuck the packing tape to my jeans to make it less sticky...

then peeled it off.  It worked perfectly!  Voila - my own kind of blue tape:

Once the layout was up, I could step back and get a good look to make sure it was straight and centered the way I wanted.  I had to move it around a few times, but that was great.  It made the whole paper layout thing worth it.

 

Here comes my favorite part.  The part I found online.  The part that will change the way I hang pictures for the rest of my life.   I made this awesome little tool out of an old paint-stirrer and a nail:

But then realized after my first try that the nail was too long and wiggled when trying to hang pictures.  So I switched it out for a smaller nail on the other end:

 

which worked perfectly!  I would suggest using a clothespin, I think it would hold the nail better.  But I didn't have one, and that laziness thing kicked in again, so I made the paint-stirrer work. Anyway! Are you ready for this?  You take your tool and hang the picture on it, like so:

Then you place the frame up against the wall where you want it to go.

In my case, I just lined each picture up with the sketch of it on the wrapping paper, then pushed on the frame with my other hand.

This left a small hole where I wanted each nail to be.

So I grab our random nails jar out of the garage, 

  

and start pounding away!

I have to admit, it almost seemed too good to be true.  I had to actually put all of the pictures up to make sure they lined up and looked good before I tore down the wrapping paper and re-hung them.  And now?  I love my picture wall!  The day I put these up, Little O came to me and said, "I get to have my pitshure on the wall too, Mom!  Thank you for my frame with me in it!"  FOUR years this kid has been in our family and he's just now getting his picture on the wall.  Pretty sad.
 

The kids commented that it was like I had remodeled the dining room, which this wall is a part of.  My favorite part is that we now have a wall that we love, with everyone's pictures included.

Three and a Half Weeks

Our happy missionary son.

Shopping, shopping, shopping.
Farewell talk.
Open house.
MTC.
Write letters.
Send packages.
Check email all day, every day for 6 days.
Finally: P-day.
16th birthday.

Youth Conference.
Surprise un-birthday tea party with cousins.

Family reunion #1.
Family in town.
Wedding.

The Original Family on Allen's side - every sibling came!

Court of Honor.
Dissertation. (He passed! GO JOHN!)
Wedding reception.
Funeral.
Work party.
Wicked!
Family reunion #2.

Talk about a whole range of emotions all compacted into a relatively short period of time.  I'm still on a roller coaster, and it's not over yet.  Once things feel a little more normal again, I'll be around blogland a bit more.

If anyone is interested in reading the letters that Allen the Younger sends home from his mission, I have a blog for that.  Every Tuesday is his P-day (Preparation Day, the one day he has each week to get prepared for the rest of the week.)  This means he does laundry, writes letters, and I'm not sure what else, so new letters are posted weekly - as well as pictures when he sends them.

What have YOU been up to?

Enjoy what's left of your summer!

Random Thoughts

We got a new tent.  It's huge.  We could probably live in it if we had to.

Anyone who goes to church on Sunday with children under the age of 5 knows exactly how much fun it would be to herd cats for a living or to control a herd of small goats in a grocery store.  If that doesn't make sense to you, be grateful.

I am not ready for school to start.  However, since it is inevitable, I would like to point out that it would be most helpful to get a list of what is needed in each classroom now when everyone is having Back To School sales on supplies rather than the first week of school when everything is full-priced again.

Just because something is on sale doesn't mean I need it.  But it's highly likely that I'll still buy it if it's a screaming deal, like crayons for a penny a box.

Seriously, who doesn't love crayons?

One day I would like to put a whole pallet full of crayons in my trunk and just pass them out to people who could use a little ray of happiness in their lives - which is everyone.  Opening a new box of crayons and seeing all of those happy colors staring back at me is an awesome feeling.

Another thing I love is rainstorms.  Especially in the middle of the summer.  Especially when half the world is on fire and it clears the air of the lingering smoke.  I wish I could find a perfume called "After the Rain".  I would wear it all the time, maybe even bathe in it.

They should stop playing that We Are Young song on the radio, because people are taking the chorus a little too seriously, I think. (Listen at 1:01.  It's catchy.  But stop doing it, people.)

Facebook is good and bad, I think.  It's good for staying in touch with people and seeing what they're up to.  But it also makes me aware of the bad things going on in people's lives, which I always want to make better.  But I can't always make things better.  In fact, I almost always can't.  But that doesn't stop me from wanting to.

I have been sewing again.  Just a little, little bit, but it makes me happy.  Especially when I can think of someone else to make something for.  I think maybe I should sew more things, more often.

The last month has sort of had me in a fog.  I was stuck in this funk (for lack of a better word) and just felt so up-and-down-and-back-again.  Maybe it's a mild sort of depression, I don't know.  But I've found that, for me, the best way to kick the feeling is to do something nice for someone else.  Like sewing them something.  Or baking them cookies.  Probably exercise would help, too, but I just can't find the motivation for that.

I had someone say to me a month ago, "Aren't you a marathon runner?" and I realized then that it would be okay if 'Run A Marathon' was something I never did.

I loved that someone thought I was a marathon runner, even though I haven't run anywhere in a very long time.

I think I need an exercise buddy.  Or maybe I just need to sew more.  And sing more, too.

I really miss my week at camp this summer.  I had some great experiences there with some great girls and great leaders.  I kind of wish we had another week of camp before school started.  But I kind of don't, too.

But really, I loved camp.  So much.  I love the trees and the trails and the mountains and the wildflowers.  I love the lessons learned and the relationships that grew there.  I love the fresh air and even the dirt on my shoes.  I love the way it felt there at my home in the mountains and I wish we went more than once a year.

When I see the girls from our neighborhood at church, the ones who went to camp with me, I want to hug them and remind them what awesome people they are.  But I don't want them to look at me funny.  Still, sometimes I hug them anyway.  Because I don't think anyone can hear enough about their good qualities. 

I need to do this with my kids, too.  Tell them all of the things that I love about them.  All of their quirks and craziness and funnies and talents.  I need to look each one in the eye and tell them about all of the things I love and admire about them.  Even if they roll their eyes at me or call me a creeper.

I am always making lists.  Mental checklists, and I never get to the end of them.  I am not sure if this is good or bad.  Once something is checked off of my list, something else immediately comes to the forefront of my mind as The Thing At The Top Of My List and I can hardly concentrate on anything else until that thing is done.  Does everyone do this?  Make mental checklists?

Does everyone think everyone else should know sign language?  Like dentists, especially? 

The last time I went to the dentist Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go was playing overhead and the dentist and his assistant were having a conversation about who sang the song.  One guessed it was The Beach Boys.  The other guessed it was The Bee Gees.  I had one of those hold-your-mouth-open things in my mouth and couldn't respond, but my expression made it obvious I was in shock that they couldn't name the artist, and the dentist laughed.  The second that thing came out I told them it was Wham! and neither of them had heard of the group.  George Michael?  Still no dice. 

Does everyone else think they're old?

I probably listened to my cassette single of Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go at least 20 times a day for a month when it came out.  It was such a happy, dance-around-your-room kind of song that I couldn't resist it.

I also requested Dancing With Myself at almost every church dance I attended and then I would proceed to, well... dance with myself.  All over the dance floor, twirling and bouncing, arms flailing.  And then I wondered why no one asked me to dance during the other songs.  But man, did that song make me happy.

This is why I am pretty sure that dance-walking is the right exercise for me.  It's pretty much what I already do at home, which could be called dance-homemakering, only in public.  It's actually on my mental checklist of things to do.  It's right before 'Be In A Flashmob', which may never happen because of my lack of ability when it comes to choreographed dancing.  But just busting out moves sporadically?  That I can do.

But I still want to be in a flashmob someday.

And pass out loads of crayons.

Quick Quips

From the mouths of my kids...


You know what I like to say to peoples? "Hi, I'm Little O.  And I'm not naked!"

Curly: Everything is on fire.  What if we were on fire?
Hubba: We won't ever be on fire.  *sigh*  Our life is too boring.

Hubba: Mom, if you catched fire you know what to do, right?  Stop, plop and roll like crazy.
Curly: Remember that, Mom.  I'm SO serious.  It could save your life.

Allen the Younger: What's up with this weird bedpan-space-rocket stencil?

Me: Try turning it around.
Allen t.Y.: Oh. It's a paw print. The star threw me off.

Hubba: I think I just burped in my body.
Me: What does that mean?
Hubba: I heard a noise inside my body.  I think it was an inside burp.

Princess left this note on the table for Curly (who can't read yet):

(The reason this one is so funny is that Princess is about the most sensitive kid in the family. The added note at the bottom was from ElemenoB.)

Little O: Mom! I sawed such a pretty girl today!
Me: Oh, yeah?
Little O: Yes!  Oh, she was SO bu-a-ful!
Me: Really?
Little O: Yes!  And know what? It was YOU, Mom!

Nineteen Years

Nineteen years ago on 6/28 at 6:28 p.m., I became a mother for the first time.  It was something I had wanted to be my entire life and I was so excited to welcome our little rugrat, Allen Michael, into the world!

How did he change so quickly from a sweet little bundle of wide-eyed excitement to this handsome young man?

Allen the Younger cried a lot as a baby.  Some days I would just sit in the rocking chair and rock him as we both cried together.  Allen the Elder would tell me to just set Little Allen down in his crib and let him cry it out, but this was my first little one and I felt like somehow my holding him had to offer some comfort.  There is something about the bond between a mother and her first baby.  I don't know how to explain it.

From the time he was born he has always been curious.  The first apartment that we lived in after he joined the family was just a block north of train tracks.  We learned to tune out the trains until Little Allen started to notice them.  Before he could even walk he would climb up the couch, perch himself on the back of it and search intently out the window for a glimpse of the passing trains whenever he heard a horn sound.

His curiosity is something that has kept him busy throughout his 19 years.  When his dad was busy working in the garage or on a project around the house, Little Allen always loved to be right in the middle of things, seeing how and why they worked the way they did.

So despite the fact that he was my best friend when his dad was at work, being named after his dad was certainly fitting because he has become even more of a replica of his father as the years have passed.

Little Allen is one of those kids who is naturally talented at everything he decides to try.  He decided to join the cross country team his sophomore year as a walk-on, was put on the varsity team almost immediately and was awarded Rookie of the Year at the end of the season.  He and some friends decided to learn the Thriller dance and led a group number at every church dance they went to.  And don't get me started on his natural ability in math and science.  He doesn't even have to try, and he loves those subjects in school.  I will never forget the first time he went fishing!  Allen (the Elder) caught a pretty good sized fish and showed it to him.

 
(I think I have mentioned before that this is one of my all-time favorite pictures.  The look on Little Allen's face is priceless!)  Well, despite being a bit grossed out, he was determined.  He baited a hook, cast out his line, and before you know it - BAM!

He had snagged himself a bigger fish than his dad's.  There isn't anything he can't do.

Allen the Younger has always had a love for music.  When I was pregnant with him he would practically do flips whenever music was played.  He could sing every word to the song The Freshman when he was about 3.  He was obsessed with animals for a long time and could sing every song from the Lion King, including the ones sung in another language.  And now he can sing the words to about every song that ever comes on the radio.  He loves the music that his dad and I loved in the 80's and early 90's (great taste, that kid!) as well anything current and everything by his celebrity crush who he likes to call T-Swift.  I love listening to him play the piano, too.

Another great thing about Little Allen is his silly sense of humor.

This didn't sit so well with some of his teachers in elementary school (okay, even in high school), so parent-teacher conferences were always filled with interesting stories and he brought quite a few pink slips home.  He was also voted "Class Clown" more than once.  But eventually he learned to better manage this silliness and only use it when it was appropriate.   

Well, mostly.  He also prides himself on his photobombing skills, which is evident in about half of his pictures on Facebook.  The one above is one of my favorites.

Allen the Younger has the ability to make everyone around him laugh.  He figured out at an early age that if I was mad at him, all he had to do was laugh and I'd start laughing, too.  His laughter is contagious.  And honestly, how could I not just laugh along with such a cute little stinker who's loaded to the brim with precociousness?

As I've watched Allen throughout his life I have learned that little kids with the most outgoing, crazy personalities turn into the most interesting, fun teenagers and adults.

(Allen and his friend Tanner proudly wore these shirts at a high school event at the U of U, BYU's rival.)

Allen the Younger has been the most accident-prone child of all our kids.  We've been to the Emergency Room and used more butterfly bandaids with him than any of his siblings.

(Double injury in this picture - he ran into the corner of a trailer at a reunion and split his nose open 

then got plowed into on the stairs at home and broke his elbow in two places.)

(In true Allen fashion, he's cracking jokes to the paramedics as they carry him out to the ambulance.)

 

 
I think that Allen tends to get hurt because he doesn't live life small.  Life is all about adventure and reaching beyond what you think you can do.  Allen's life so far has definitely been one filled with excitement and adventure.   A big part of this comes from his love for spending time in the great outdoors.  I don't think there is anyone who loves running, hiking, camping, shooting, exploring and just being adventurous as much as Allen does. 

  

 

 

Probably my favorite thing about Allen is what an awesome big brother he is.  As each of his brothers and sisters have joined the family, Allen has loved each new addition.  He has mentioned that he can't wait to have his own kids someday.  Sure, he likes to tease sometimes.  But when it comes down to it he's the most loyal and unconditionally loving family member you could ask for.  I love watching him with the other kids.

 

He recently told me that he thinks Moms have the best job in the world because they get to take care of and hang out with little people all day and watch them grow up.  I told him he should become a pediatrician.

He has lamented many times, especially when he was younger, that he wished he had an older brother.  He has even offered suggestions of those we could adopt to take on this role.  But the thing is, he has had 'brothers' close to his age around him throughout his whole life.  He's had uncles and cousins:

 

And lots of awesome friends who are really more like brothers.

Speaking of friends, another of Allen's best traits is that he is a fiercely loyal friend.  If you are lucky enough to be someone that Allen considers a friend you can know that he will stand up for you and be there for you whenever it is needed.

It has been crazy watching as each of his friends leave on their missions, knowing that his time to serve will be here before we know it.  Through all of his 19 years his dad and I have done our best to raise him to be all of the things that he'll need to be for the next two years as he serves his church mission in Fort Worth, Texas. 

We've tried to instill in him the desire to be happy, helpful, obedient, friendly, trustworthy, hard working and kind.  We want him to be independent but also a team player.  We want him to have unshakable faith, strong knowledge of the teachings of the gospel and a firm testimony of the things he will be teaching others for the next two years.

I think we've done a pretty awesome job.

Writing this post has been tough.  Looking at pictures of the little kid he was makes me miss those crazy days with that little person and wish I enjoyed them more instead of stressing out about what kind of adult he would become.  Then, thinking about the adult he has become and how much I love and enjoy him now, my heart is full to bursting.

Thanks for being the guinea pig for the last 19 years, Allen.  I'm going to miss you like crazy but I am so excited for you as you step forward into this new adventure.  You are going to be an amazing missionary.

I love you, my biggest boy.  Happy, happy birthday!