Friday, July 30, 2010

Who's the Boss?

I believe that each of us are with our specific parents for a reason - that Heavenly Father placed us with those parents who could best help us, compliment us, assist us and love us. 

I feel very fortunate to be with the family I have, especially my dad. My dad has always been and always will be the the role model and example of a worthy Priesthood holder, a supportive husband and a loving father that I look up to and will compare my future companion to. 

I have a lot of great memories of my dad; but one of my favorites is Saturday mornings as a kid. My siblings and I all have a love for good cartoons and back in the day Bugs Bunny and friends ran Saturday mornings in our house. We would get up early and head down to watch our cartoons - soon my dad was close behind helping us pour bowls of cereal and sitting down and watching cartoons with us.  To this day my dad will sit down with the grandkids and watch an episode of Bugs Bunny or any other Looney Toons video. I have so many memories of us sitting on the couch and laughing with dad. 

As I got older I became more aware of just how much I needed my dad. Growing up I was always given a Father's Blessing from my dad before school started, or for something else that was challenging me. When I moved to Logan for school it was just the same - he pulled me aside gave me a blessing and then moved me up to school. A few months later I was making some big decisions and my natural instinct was to have my dad give me a blessing, but he wasn't down the hallway anymore. There were times where I'd have a hard day and need someone to make me laugh or tell me to calm down and I began to realize that whenever I had weighty matters on my mind I'd take them to my dad. Sometimes indirectly and others very blatant. I never realized how much I sought out his guidance until I didn't have it around me all the time.  But what I did have with me were all the lessons my dad had taught me along the way - I just needed to recall them.  

It's been a joy to watch him help my siblings along they way too as they start their own families. They still call him and visit him to get his input and council because they respect him and love him. 

I've noticed too how many things I've adopted in my life that I took from my dad. My love of music, love of sports (Jazz and Nascar), desire to increase my knowledge (spiritual and temporal), a smirk/smile when I'm trying to hide something, a certain stuborness and independence. The list goes on and on. 

My dad is the best! He's an amazing father, husband, grandpa and person and I feel fortunate and spoiled to have him. 

I love you Dad!

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Ode to my mom

One of the great things about entering adulthood is that you develop a new relationship with your parents. When I was a child my mother was the constant loving, attentive mother who was there to help me, discipline me, love me, play with me, and teach me.  As I entered into my teen years she was still there, but as more of an enforcer - not in a bad way - but in the way a teenager needs their mom to be. She asked the questions "Who? When? Where? Why? How late?", she waited up till she heard me come home from late night activities, she soothed me when my fragile, ridiculous teenage heart was broken, and, most importantly, she would always scratch my back during church.

A few more years passed and I "grew up", went off to college and found myself applying all the things I had learned from her.  I was able to clean a house (didn't mean it was always clean, but I could do it), prepare a meal, sew a button, etc. How many times had I whined when she made me do those things as a kid? I always thought it was such a waste of my time.

Looking back, those are some of the moments I treasure most - helping her in the kitchen, learning how to iron, going for bike rides, and putting up Christmas decorations.  Now that I'm more of an adult we have an amazingly strong relationship. I tell her everything, we go out to dinner and movies, go shopping, to the temple, etc.  My mom is a great example to me. She is a loving person and always wants to help other people. She loves the gospel and has a strong testimony about our Savior, His plan, and the Book of Mormon. She loves to learn and is constantly reading, attending religious classes, and learning new skills and talents.  She has a deep, intense love for her family and expresses it frequently; none of us wonder if mom loves us, her daily actions prove it. I then watched her heart grow to a whole new level when she became a grandmother. My mom was meant to be a grandma. She has the perfect attitude and demeanor for it. She loves to plan sleep overs, picnics, holiday activities, family dinners - you name it, she does it.

If I ever have the wonderful opportunity to become a mother, I only hope I can be like my mom.

I love you mom!


Sunday, April 25, 2010

Chivalry isn't dead, it's killing me.

I've got a bump on my head and a headache - all from my friend opening the door for me.

The other day my friend and I attempted to go shopping to try and find him some new clothes.  This friend of mine is a complete gentlemen. He insists on opening car doors, building doors, getting your chair, etc. So as we approached the mall, he went to get the door and I waited.

Quick side note: For those of you who have known me a long time, you may know that I rarely wait for guys to get the door. For a long time I never had a guy friend who got the door. If I saw I door, I'd open it and just bust on through (kind of like Kramer). Why wait? Well I started hanging out with gentlemanly friends and started adopting some patience for these door opening men.

So Friend grabbed the door and I started to walk through and then WHAMO!  The door had slammed me in the head. I was so disoriented from the hit that I just stood there and looked around. I looked back at Friend and his face was frozen in shock. I didn't say anything at first; I just stared at him. I finally mumbled "Did you let go of the door?" Friend felt really bad and just started talking "Damn! Are you okay? Did that nail your head?"  He continued apologizing and then kept muttering about how bad he felt. He said the door just snapped out of his hand.  I started to wonder if maybe he wasn't really ready to get the door for me.  Was I entering the door too prematurely? Was Friend really weak?

Now, my dad taught me a valuable lesson as a child - Suck it Up!  And that's what I did - I sucked it up, told him it wasn't too bad and that I was fine. We started wandering through the mall and my head began throbbing. Luckily we weren't in a huge mood to shop so we ended up wandering the store and just chatting. On our way out he offered to buy me a cookie for hitting me with the door - being the good friend that I am, I accepted my chocolate chip cookie and hoped it would console me. It did, but only for about ten minutes.  On our way out Friend wanted me to see "how crazy the door was and how it just snaps shut on it's own". Well, he was right, this door would open about a foot or so and then it started to pull itself shut again.  I told him that I didn't think he was trying to hurt me intentionally (but maybe...) but that maybe he should lift some weights tonight so he can hold doors open a bit longer.

We ended up driving around and then doing some grocery shopping. He asked me if I was okay, and I said I was fine. Honestly, I was dying! I kept swaying, I felt nauseous and I all I wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

I had plans that night, so I eventually left and thought that if I could just take some pills, eat something and lay down I'd feel better. Well it didn't work. I watched a movie that night and I could barely focus.  I wanted to hold my head where it was hit, but it was too tender.  I thought I'd be able to sleep it off, but my head hurt too bad to lay on that side and, although the pounding had slowed down, it was still dull enough to keep me awake.

So now I have to ask myself - Do I wait for doors to be opened? Do I find stronger friends? Do I give Friend one more chance?

If you don't hear from me soon, I may be unconscious in my room...

Monday, March 15, 2010

Home! Home on the range!

Well Spring time is approaching and that means it's time for yard work. This is my first time being responsible for a yard and last Summer I had my first experience mowing and edging a lawn. Now that Spring is here, it's time to prep the lawn and the flower beds.

I went out back the other day to start cleaning up the yard and pick up whatever had been hiding under the snow for the past few months.  I walked out back and realized I had a much bigger issue on my hands. The wind had been really strong the past few nights and I hadn't really bothered to check on what had blow in.

Here's what I found:

sorry it's blurry - cell phone camera
I wasn't sure what to do - there were at least 30 tumbleweeds in my backyard. I just stared at them for a few minutes, and then put my complicated game plan into action. Now, you're probably wondering how to take care of removing 30 GIANT tumbleweeds from your yard.  Some people think you should break them down and put them in your garbage - a valid suggestion, but not what I went for.  To accomplish my genius, complicated project I suited up in a jacket, put on my gardening gloves and started the process. I grabbed about four weeds, ran towards the fence and chucked them!  The wind was blowing a bit, so majority of them blew back in my face (did you know tumbleweeds are prickly?). I finally got into a groove and got them all tossed.

So, Julie and Dave, if you're reading this - you are welcome for the awesome yard work I'm doing. West Valley City, thank you for removing the tumbleweed after I tossed them over the fence.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Dress for Success

Ever have a case of the "Mondays"? A few days ago I was getting ready for work and the shirt I wanted to wear was a bit wrinkly. Normally I iron 90% of my wardrobe (despite my roommates mocking me), but this morning I was running short on time. It was a sweater so it was pretty thick and didn't need a lot of ironing. I sprayed the shirt with the water bottle and tossed it in the dryer while I finished getting ready. On my way out the door I grabbed the sweater and went to work. I got to work and started my chaotic hours of meetings.  Lately majority of my days consist of me in meetings five out of the eight hours I'm there and it's not uncommon for me to be in one meeting room for about three hours in a row - but I'm usually in front of people writing on the board or helping with discussions.

Around noon my first break came and I went to my desk to check on a few things and while I'm there my boss stopped by to ask me a question and we made our way to a filing cabinet to search for some papers. As we head over I straighten my sweater but notice that it won't straighten or lay flat. I keep tugging at it thinking it will eventually smooth out and I curse myself for not ironing my sweater. As we're talking and I'm fidgeting I realize that this crease or wrinkle is more of a bump. I'm facing my boss and we're talking but I'm completely consumed by the issue with my sweater. I keep playing with it and sneak my hand under the bottom hem of my sweater to see if I can find the cause for this lump. I finally find the lump and realize that a sock has been wadded up in a ball in my sweater this entire time. Normally you'd just leave the sock alone and take care of it at a later time, but I felt some need to keep reaching for it and remove it. I slowly start pulling it out and I'm pretty sure that I'm being super sneaky and discreet about this - there's no way my boss is aware of what's going on. Just as I pull the sock out my boss looks down at my hand, doesn't say a word, but gives me a look that seems to say "Do you really have a sock in your hand that you just pulled out from your sweater - WHILE we're talking?" I just tuck the sock into my pocket, finish the conversation and run back to my desk. I'm embarrassed, but worse things have happened.  But then I think about my day and how I've been in front of people for about four or so hours with this odd bulge from the side of my stomach. Granted I'm not super skinny and most people probably just thought it was a fat roll or that I carry my weight oddly, but it still made me think how many people saw this bulge and didn't say anything.  I'm back at my desk and I throw the sock in my purse and go about my day.  Later that night I went to meet an old friend for dinner and through our conversation I brought up the fact that I'm the proud owner of Bose noise canceling headphones (I highly recommend these to anyone and everyone). I reach into my purse to pull out the headphone case and along with it pops out my brown sock from earlier today and lands on the table right in between us. My friend stared at me and the sock and just chuckled and asked me if I was going bowling later. I just laughed and shoved it in my purse and chose to ignore the question.

Here's what I've learned: When I dress in the morning I make sure to check myself over for any odd bumps, lumps, socks or anything else that could get stuck to me.   So far I've made it out the door these past few days with little or no issues - except the time my juice exploded on my white sweater right as I pulled into work and started another day of marathon meetings with a bright red spot on my sleeve and my hands stained red.  Someone asked me if I had murdered someone and another person just scooted away from me. I just laughed and thought "Ah, another awesome day!"