A Man of God who walked with men

My senior year of high school, I was asked to bear my testimony in my home ward. It was a basic testimony of all of the crucial elements of the Gospel. But then I made a statement that caused the congregation to roar with laughter. "I love President Hinckley. He's just so cute, I can't stand it! I want to pinch his cheeks."

I didn't think much of that statement until one of my Young Women Leaders approached me after Sacrament Meeting and asked, "Isn't that kind of, I don't know, blasphemous?"

I all of the sudden felt really embarrassed. My intentions were not meant to be sacrilegious or disrespectful in any way. I really did think he was adorable! And I meant it with the utmost of respect.

I don't really know how to put into words exactly what I felt for President Gordon B. Hinckley. The reason is because there was something I appreciated about him beyond his prophetic calling. There was a certain thing that drew me to him; I felt connected to him.

It was his sense of humor.

I remember sitting in a temple prep. class with David when we were engaged to be married and hearing the teacher say something scriptural about the inappropriateness of loud laughter. At that point, I knew I was doomed.

But the character of President Hinckley beyond and outside of his duties as God's mouthpiece and the Leader of the Church, was inspiring. For me, it meant that much more that he would playfully joke.... right over the sacred pulpit at General Conference. I was grateful that maybe I wasn't so bad. The greatest living man on the face of the earth had a funny bone as well. So maybe I was okay.

He was so much more then a Prophet to me. He was an example of someone who loved life and enjoyed life. Growing up, I knew that it must be okay somewhere to actually have fun in your life while also living the Gospel. I was convinced that it couldn't all be drab and dull. He was proof to me that I was right. I was relieved to think that while I had failings elsewhere, my humor and wit wasn't necessarily one of them.

I can't selfishly justify, however, that he should've stayed longer. It was his time. He had accomplished more then enough. And in my mind, I like to entertain the possibility that when he saw his precious Marjorie for the first time since her passing, that after a long and loving embrace, she glared at him and teased, "What took you so long?"

President Hinckley did so much for the Church. He built countless temples. He was an incredible force for missionary work. He utilized the media in a positive way for the reputation of the Church. He gushed over the youth and reminded them of their special calling. He showed devotion to women and mothers. He was tireless in his international efforts. He was the epitome of a man driven by the work of God.

But, for me, personally?

He made me feel okay about being me.

And for that, he will be forever missed.

What the....?!! I was tagged?

So, freaking Chrissy "tagged" me. I'm just lazily reading her cute little blog about the items in her purse when, next thing I know, my name is at the bottom saying I've been tagged. What the...?! So now, because I'm a geek with a middle school mentality/superstition who feels like she MUST do whatever little gag has been passed her way or else Bloody Mary will come out of the bathroom mirror and get her, here I go. (I don't really think Bloody Mary will come get me.... well, not really....).

I was "bag tagged." So, apparently, without any preparation or "cheating," I had to go grab my bag and empty it out. And then I must tag some other chic-a-dees, and they then will feel uncontrollably compelled to do the same.

So, here's what was found:

*"Diapees & Wipees" (the pink and green circles) holds baby wipes and diapers

*My wallet

*Cough drops (because I can't kick this stupid COUGH)!

*A California Adventure theme park map, because Malia wanted to hold one.

*An "Honorary Disneyland Citizen" button because an employee thought Malia was so cute (we played at the parks last night.... heh).

*Cell phone

*Keys

*Lip gloss

*A quarter?! (sweet! I NEVER have cash)!

I can't imagine that this was at all entertaining for any of you... but whatevs. I'm just relieved there wasn't a crumpled up baby wipe or dirty kleenex or a cough drop wrapper or something embarrassingly personal in there. I actually appear somewhat organized!

... wait. There were some goldfish crumbs. So much for my "perfection" facade. Meh. I doubt I've ever had anyone convinced otherwise.

So..... um... geez, Chrissy! Who do I tag since I can't tag you?

OH! Jean Anderson, Hilary Wertz, and Liz Jonhson... I TAG YOU! Wait. I wan't to tag 4 people... Heather Peterson, I tag you, as well. Nice. Get at it ladies.

As evidence of the cranky child...

So, when I told Malia to smile for the camera this morning (which she is usually more then willing to do, by the way), this is what I got, in chronological order. It's all evidence of my previous post about how she truly hates her life when she has a little cold. The child is such a drama queen.... she totally gets that from her father. Totally.... heh.

I eventually got this one out of her. But, I wouldn't call it a smile, persay. Anyone want to chime in with suggestions? "Grimace," maybe? How about "smirk" or "sneer?" Well, I'll give her an "A" for effort, anyway.

The kid is awesome, I tell you.

Toddlers and colds

You would think the world is ending. Malia has tripped, bumped, bonked, and bruised almost all of her extremities, and it nearly never phases her. But give her the common cold... and LOOK OUT!

I don't know what it is, but at this age, it seems as if she gets sick at least once a month. Every time we overcome one and finally feel as if we are being settled back into normalcy again, a new one hits. And they always come back with a vengence.

Malia has a great sleep schedule. I mean, she OUGHT to. I only read through 10 books, went to a sleep specialist, survived colic, and worked my tail off to get her to that place. However, every time she gets a stuffy nose, we're doomed to night wakings. A couple days ago, Malia tripped and hit her head pretty hard. I mean, I heard it. I heard the sound of a head hitting the concrete. I picked her up and asked her if she was ok (I was convinced there'd be blood... there wasn't). She frowned a little, touched her head and said, "Bump da' head. Kiss it better?" So, I did, and she skipped off on her merry way. However, this morning, she has a little bit of snot trickling out of her nose and she is in pure MISERY. Where are these blasted viruses coming from?!

I blame nursery.

Ok... maybe that's a bit harsh. But where else is she getting the darn things?! I read something yesterday about how the firstborn in a lot of families are more prone to asthma and allergies because their immune systems are weaker and because parents are often overprotective of the first. Children who come along later apparently develop some sort of awesome immunities because they caught everything their older brother or sister brought home, when they were really young.

I've inspired myself. I'm going to take Malia on a walk.

... maybe let her eat some dirt or lick a sidewalk...

Was I really that bad...?

Today, when David got home from work, we went as a family to Disneyland for FHE. (Yes, it is a nice little thing, having annual passports and taking a ten minute drive to the Happiest Place on Earth).

As we were walking down Main Street, U.S.A. just before closing time, the music gave me flashbacks to a much different time in my life. I told David about how every time I visited Disneyland in the past, that the music on Main Street usually prompted me to act like I was in a parade.

"You mean, you would wave to random people?" he asked.

"No, I mean, I would start dancing like this."

And I began to dance down Main Street in a very lively, characterized manner to the turn-of-the-century ditty playing overhead. And for the first time in, oh, I don't know.... maybe my entire LIFE.... I was actually embarassed by myself! I can remember when I was younger, being so hyper and full of energy. Truth be told? I think I'm quite boring now. I find my self saying to people, "Oh, I've calmed down a lot," and they will look at me in shock and say, "You were worse?" People who haven't known me for years seem to be convinced that I am still a bit of a psychopath.

So, it got me to think. Was I really that insane? I mean, let's be honest. I was obviously hyper enough that I could eat more junk food in a day then most people average in a week, and still weigh only 100 lbs., which is obviously a gift I no longer possess, but STILL. I've come across some very energetic, allbeit, annoying individuals in my life. And I have to wonder.... could I have had a lot more friends had I toned myself down a bit?

I probably shouldn't be posting this on the world wide web, because I know many of you will be thinking, "Oh, praise the heavens! At least the woman isn't in denial!" But it's something I have to wonder. I've met some hyper folks in my life. I couldn't possibly have been one of the worst.... could I?

So I was a happy kid. So what?!

So much has happened...

I have so many things to do right now.

But I don't want to do them.

Then I remembered I started a blog, and figured it was the perfect excuse! Besides, the holiday season has come & passed and we never sent out any sort of card, picture, newsletter, etc. because we were just in over our heads with life. "So much has happened." (that's the title of this blog, you see... I'm so clever....). Heh.

So, it all began with buying a house. WE DID IT! AND it's in Orange County, of all places! How did we manage that, you ask? We don't know, and we may not manage it well. But life is all about challenges, and we've definitely taken one on, especially since I stay at home with Malia and no second income (which is nearly unheard of in SoCal). It's actually a townhouse, which suits us fine. It has 4 bedrooms, which made us very happy, because now we can stay here for a while and donate kidneys to pay our mortgage, while our family (hopefully) expands. One of the greatest benefits of our new place is that it has shortened David's commute immensely. He used to drive 8 miles down Beach Blvd. which could take upwards of an hour one-way during traffic. Now, we live just over a mile away, and it's so nice that he can come right home.

When we've done more renovating, I'll be sure to post some Before-&-Afters. For now, that's going to have to wait, because the previous owners had such extreme taste in colors I'm almost embarassed to show anyone until it's been completely remedied. (I swear to you, the living room was orange and lime-green.... no lie)! This project/endeavor we call "homeownership" pretty much consumes our lives, and while it's exhausting and overwhelming, it's also a very awesome feeling. I admit... we're a little proud. What of it.

Malia turned TWO! We can't believe it. She is such an amazing human being. The child is gorgeous and smart and full of personality. We're in big trouble when she gets older. Hopefully, because she has also inherited her mother's volume, that will provide some sort of protective deterrent to any suitors. We'll see.

Here's some fun pictures from her birthday party. We went to the Rainforest Cafe' and then to Build-A-Bear because she got a gift card from our friends, the Suns.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MALIA! YOU RULE!