God Bless It

I've always been a huge sap for the good ole U.S. of A. I'm not really the type, even, to be too critical of our government or the laws and regulations that exist here, simply because I know in my gut that, while things here are imperfect, there ain't no way the grass is greener. While I acknowledge that humanity as a whole seems to make some pretty lame decisions, overall, I would never trade living here for elsewhere. When I lived in Japan for a year, it was the little things that made me truly realize that, as cliche' as it may sound, I am darn proud to be an American. I will never be ungrateful for that gift. As rough as it gets here - as corrupt as some parts of it can be... and this is generally more in the opinion of others as opposed to myself - I will never take for granted the blessing of living in a country where we actually have a say and we truly can be who we choose to be. If I wanted to, I could hop in my car for $4.52 a gallon and drive down the street for a greasy donut wearing my CTR ring while showing some scandalous female ankle and pregnant with my 2nd child... and no one could stop me. There are billions of people on this earth who can't even fathom that kind of freedom.

And I never want anyone who ever had to die in order for me to have what I have to not be able to look me in the eye out of fear of going unappreciated. God bless our troops... now, in the past, and in the future.

I pray I never take it for granted.

Ok, now off of my soapbox, cause now it's PICTURE TIME!!!

In the morning (after a slow start because Dave was relishing in his day off), we decided to head down to Huntington Beach to kick-off the festivities. We got there literally as the last 1/2 of the parade was doing it's thing, which made me so very happy (I love parades!). Malia is a lot like her mommy and couldn't get enough of anything that passed by with a lot of noise.

This is her excited face.


An adorable shot of Lili & Daddy that I snuck in while checking on our illegally parked car
(which was parked in a temporary Parade No Parking Zone - heh)


Malia enjoying the water... please acknowledge that I am 16 weeks pregnant... so no fat jokes; because along with the tummy comes a lot of hormones, and I don't wanna' hear it.


We headed home for Malia (& Daddy) to have a nap, and then drove up the freeway to see the Andersons! They'd invited us over for a last minute BBQ and I was elated to hang with our old friends. I think we've spent a few 4ths with them, actually. PLUS - I ate a whole steak... meat's been difficult for me lately (courtesy Tim's new grilling skillz). Malia developed a quick and infatuated crush on Weston.

And last, but certainly never least.... FIREWORKS!!!

6 years!!!!

Well - our 6th wedding anniversary fell on Father's Day this year... so I kind of wanted to let the majority of the day ride out before talking about it, so that David could enjoy "his" day.

On June 15th, 2002, David and I were sealed for time & all eternity in the San Diego LDS temple by my Uncle Kent with family in attendance. It was a beautiful, clear day. And it was the most important day of my life.... yes, even more important then the birth of my current (and future) children. More important because, without that day, my time with my children would be only mortal and brief anyway. But because of that day, my children are mine (well - ok, technically they're God's... but I get to borrow them) for time & all eternity. And David is truly mine for time & all eternity.

We met outside of the 8th floor elevator at Kaigandori House in Osaka, Japan, where we would both be living for the entire year. We became fast friends. BEST friends, to be completely accurate. We shared secrets and philosophies with each other. He gave me a blessing as my new home teacher before he even knew my last name. I broke down in his apartment about my low self-esteem, and the poor guy hadn't even been around me long enough to understand I was just a basket-case by nature. We discussed the gospel as well as both of our current romantic relationships (I had a missionary and he'd left a girlfriend back at the Y). Despite predictions from all of our fellow performers, we denied it would ever become anything more. It was very "When Harry Met Sally." But after his relationship fell victim to the pitfalls of long-distance, the following week became a whirlwind of unexpected emotions, awkward moments of tension, and a first kiss. We thought we'd keep it a secret in order to avoid "I-told-you-so's," however, the obvious rash left on my sensitive skin from an Italian boy's 5 o'clock shadow made that nearly impossible.

After over a year of dating, making David change his major, and me debating if I could wait 5 more years before marrying him so that I could pursue my Broadway dreams, we did it. And I haven't regretted it since.

Here's to 6+infinity more years!

To the Bestest Daddy in the World

(The above video has music so be sure to turn off the main music at the right)

I couldn't ask for a better person to be the example and strength you are for our children. You work so incredibly hard to provide us with the necessary temporal means needed to survive in this mortal life which gives us the incredibly under-rated blessing of me being able to stay home with our children. Their success in pursuing eternal life is that much more possible because I have you to share the challenge with. And I'm excited to continue the task with you for baby #2. I know the Lord is at peace with sending us His children because of you and His trust in you.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!

Abandonment

This is my Easter blog. I know the title leads you to think, “Are you kidding me?! How morbid is that?!” But, trust me; it’s just a means to an end….

Now, this is going to get kind of deep, so if any of you hate spiritual topics or have a tendency to depress easily or just think I’m always too long-winded (which is quite possibly true) - I’d stop reading now. For the rest of you, carry on.

What does the Atonement mean to me?

Well – the answer to this question has changed at different points in my life. But I want to talk about what it has meant since Malia was born. Most of you are aware (because I talk about it too much) that Malia had colic for the first 6 months of her life. Ok. Wait. She didn’t just have colic. She had severe colic. The kind of colic that had the pediatrician patting me on the head and hugging me whenever we visited. The “screaming-24-7-never-sleeps-more-then-1/2-an-hour-even-at-night-won’t-somebody-muzzle-this-child” kind of colic.

Now, I am the first to admit, at the very least, she was an otherwise healthy, gorgeous child. Other then a brief bout with jaundice at the start, she was perfection. She had all her extremities, senses, and never spent a single night in the NICU. However, lest those who’ve experienced even 5 minutes of colic will disagree, I will say… it was THE hardest period in my life.

As proof of that superlative, I am now going to expose one of the weakest moments in my life. This is an excerpt of a journal entry from when Malia was about 4 months old (it has actually even been edited to protect me from, well, myself):

“I’m at the end of my rope. I haven’t slept in so long. I’ll be honest. I feel as if God has completely abandoned me... I have tried over and over again to practice faith in Him. I am doing everything on my own that I possibly can to help my child – and begging and pleading for Him to fill in the holes. But He refuses. I don’t know why. I am in so much emotional pain and my spirit has never been this weak… ever! ... Why does God just sit back?! I have been told a ridiculous number of times that I should trust my intuition, i.e., God’s inspiration, but I have none!"

What does this have to do with Easter?

When Jesus Christ walked on this earth, He knew things. What I mean is that the veil was so thin, if not even completely gone, for Him. However - there was one time He didn’t have that access… and it was the time He needed it the most. In Gethsemane, He suffered, He sobbed, and He was wracked with pain. You tell me that if there wasn’t one time the Savior desperately needed His Father, it was then. The irony? It was the one time Heavenly Father had to leave Him to Himself. But did the Savior ever accuse the Lord of abandoning Him? No. Of course not. The answer to that is obvious, right? So why is it we, having to suffer only a fraction of that, subject the Lord to such complaints and accusations when life is hard?

Now, we are only human, and I’ve had to remind myself many times since those dark nights, that I am imperfect. In dealing with the repentance process over some of the things I said to the Lord in those trying times, I have had to teach myself to be a little kinder to me…. to realize the Lord knows I was very tired and… well, very tired.

But now I want to speak as the parent, and no longer as the child. Instead of seeing God as my Father and feeling as if I’m a disobedient daughter, I want to talk about Him as a parent and what I can learn about Him now that I’m a parent. Malia is only 2, but I have already experienced those moments when I need to step back and let her make choices and grow and experience.

When she did have colic, the hardest part wasn’t the screaming itself… it was the fact that I could do absolutely. nothing. about it.

How hard must it’ve been when the Savior asked His Father to let the cup pass? And the Father had to sit back and allow things to happen to His own Son that we can’t even imagine? How hard was it for the Savior, who must’ve felt so abandoned? But, even more so, how hard must it have been for the Father to have to watch, in silence?

This Easter, remember all your blessings, and when trials arise, acknowledge that the Savior's death and resurrection are a perfect example of how He can empathize with those feelings. Remember that the Father is not abandoning you. He wants nothing more then to come to you, kiss it better, and send you on your merry way. However, He knows what’s best. He knows that suffering is a part of it. For as He watches you, He suffers too.

Be grateful He knows better.

All Hallow's Eve

It is so much more fun to celebrate holidays when your kids are getting old enough to find excitement in them. It was a little bit difficult when all was said and done, to keep Malia from begging for candy for about 3 days after her first trick-or-treat experience, but she forgot soon enough (thank heavens). Over the last month she has become enamoured with pumpkins and would scream, "wunkin!" every time we passed by anything that even sort of resembled one. And, I'm not sure exactly where she had picked it up, but whenever she saw a skeleton, or a skull and crossbones (which are everywhere nowadays with the new pirate fad), she would point and say, "Mean guy. Raaaawr." It was hilarious.

We went to a Pumpkin Patch for Family Home Evening a few weeks ago. It shocked me how overcome with joy it made me when I was walking around, holding the hands of my husband and child. It was a quiet and simple peace and I was so happy that I am in the situation I am right now. It really made it evident that being with family is a gift from God. I was a little overwhelmed, and almost embarassed by the strength of the emotion as I walked around this ridiculous little mini-amusement park. Watching your child laugh and get excited at everything she sees, and seeing her father sweep her up, causing her to squeal with joy, is so rewarding. It makes all the sacrifices more then worth it.

It took some severe begging and pleading, but David agreed to dress up as a family for Halloween. I was so excited! However, I had to be willing to let David forgo the tights/leggings... maybe next time. We were so cute as Peter Pan, Wendy, and Tinkerbell! I know that Halloween is supposed to be about gruesome and scary things, but I don't care. We were a part of a very small group of adults who actually dressed up at the ward party. I'm sorry, but in my opinion, you are never too cool to dress up!

Party poopers.

Memorial Day

So, this year, as I was talking to David about how we should spend his day off from work, I expressed an interest in doing something in respect to the actual meaning of the day, as opposed to BBQs and a trip to the beach. I thought maybe we could go to a Forest Lawn or possibly find some sort of a memorial for veterans, seeing as how La Mirada is a community especially proud of its veterans. The Sunday night before, as we were discussing it, I could sense he was less then enthusiastic about doing anything.... i.e. I see holidays as a time to go out and do things until we wear ourselves out silly; he sees them as the opposite (wearing ourselves out by doing absolutely nothing). This is an unattainable compromise that we've struggled with for our almost 5 years of marriage. I finally ran across a webpage advertising the Garden Grove Strawberry Festival. It obviously had absolutely nothing to do with "memorializing" anybody, persay.... but the strawberry seemed like a pretty yummy 2nd choice.

Malia with Daddy on the Animal Train

Malia loves Carousels! Although this one made Mommy nervous, because, from my perspective, it seemed to be circulating at an alarmingly fast pace.... too fast for a carnival ride that looked as if it could crumble if the wind blew.

Malia has a problem understanding that taking a bite doesn't mean you will lose the rest of it... hence the mouthful of strawberry.

We had a bowl FULL of strawberries which were topped by whipped cream.... have you ever been full from strawberries? It's not as wonderful as you might anticipate. When we got home, both Malia and Daddy took wonderful naps, so I'd say it was a fairly successful day. Although, admittedly, I still felt less then appeased and somewhat guilty for not celebrating the holiday for its true purpose. So, in the words of a great teacher and orator, Joseph Campbell:

"A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself."

In Memoriam...