Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Saying Goodbye to Two

A year ago we said hello to two.
Minus about 116.6 tantrums, two was wonderful.
Two was joyful.
Two was funny and curious and an adventure.
But now it is time to say goodbye to a few things.



Goodbye to the baby swing.

Goodbye to secretly un-decorating mom's Christmas Tree.

And being the littlest reindeer in the Christmas Program.

Goodbye to waiting at the bottom of the hill for the big kids to come down.

And having to explore at the bottom of the mountain.


Goodbye to princess dress-ups that are too big.

And goodbye to watching big sister bake while you only get to lick the bowl.

Goodbye to sneaking into mom's make-up bag.  (Fingers crossed)


Goodbye to diapers!!!!


Goodbye to the kiddie pool, and coloring on your forehead with green marker.


Goodbye to being stuck on the little kid rides all day.

 Goodbye to pretending that you get to go to a real ballet class.





Goodbye to all things two. (sniff, sniff)

Hello to "I'm big!"  "I will do it myself!" "I'm not a baby!"

Hello big kid swings,
decorating the Christmas Tree,
sledding,
hiking,
dress-ups that fit,
taking a turn to crack the eggs,
owning your own lip gloss,
fancy panties,
swimming lessons,
big kid rides
and going to your very own ballet class.

......Hello three.
It's nice to met you.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Dear Grandkids

Dear Grandkids,

Even though I am about 15 years or so away from meeting you, I have been thinking about you. I hope that at least 3 of you have red hair and about 250,000 freckles but if not, I'll love you anyway.

Today I was thinking about my two grandmothers, Maude and Helena. How I loved them, how I miss them. What a treasure it would be for me to have a little glimpse of their lives when they were my age.

I wonder what filled their days, what their worries were, what their hopes and dreams looked like.
 Then a little idea sprouted: Why not write a series of letters to you...

After all, no one else really cares that:

I'm 86% Democrat.
I love Rocky Road ice cream and spaghetti with meatballs.
My house is clean, my car is not.
I have been completely, entirely and thoroughly in love with same same man since I was 17.
I cannot bake a loaf of bread and sewing a button causes me great anxiety.
I rarely get angry and hardly ever get offended,  but if someone deeply hurts me I have a hard time forgiving.
I wish my body was thinner and my hair was thicker.
I wish I had a musical or artistic talent.
I'm a good listener.
My wardrobe consists mostly of cheap jeans and tee-shirts.
My friends know they can count on me.
My hands look like they belong to an 80 year old and gray hairs are giving the others a run for their money.
I have close, loving relationships with my three joys.  They are my heart and soul.
I don't mind dirty work.
I brush my teeth about 8-10 times a day but I hardly ever floss.
I've never been on a cruise or traveled out of the country but I'd like to.
I am profoundly religious but can't ride a roller coaster without a minor curse word (or two) slipping out.

That's me in a nutshell.  Nothing fancy, nothing notable, nothing anyone would really care about...
except you, my dear grandbabies.  Someday, you might wonder what your grandmother thought or felt or did.  Something I write might reach through the years and generations and touch you, encourage you or help you through a difficult time.

It is with that hope, that I close my first letter to you.

With love,
Grandma, Granny, Gran, Grandmother
Hmmm I'l have to give this some thought.

(for now) Kimberly

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

The Circle of Dads and Daughters

Have you ever noticed how life often goes in circles?
You start in one place and end up in another and somehow the second place strangely resembles the first?

Such is the circle with dads and their little girls.

For example, this is Rachel Grace, aka 100% Daddy's Girl.



I say that with very little tartness or animosity.
I have come to terms with the fact that the kid just adores her Dad and has from her first breath.



When the twins were four months old, Mark left on a business trip for the week.
The minute we dropped him off at the airport, Rachel started to cry.
She literally cried the entire week.

I took her to the doctor, certain she had an ear infection. Nope.
I took her for rides in the car. No help.
I gave her warm baths and rubbed her back. Useless.

After four solid days and nights of crying, my nerves were frazzled.
My neighbor came by to check on me and when she saw the distressing, lamentable, miserable state I was in, she packed up the babies and took them home with her.
I collapsed into bed, feeling like a failure.
Later that night I buckled the babies in and we headed to the airport.
The VERY moment Mark got into the car, Rachel's crying CEASED.

It stopped as abruptly as is started.
She cooed and smiled at her Dad all the way home.

And that is pretty much how the last 12.7 years have gone.
Pure and utter devotion to her dad.

She makes sure Mark is taken care of, she sings to him and writes love notes.
She starts planning his birthday and Father's Day weeks in advance.
She quickly agrees with him, even when he is wrong.

I wish I had a quarter for every time me and poor Linc have taken a back seat to Dad.
Mark just smiles smugly, shrugs his shoulders and reminds Rachel that it is absolutely her duty and obligation to teach Samantha everything she knows.

Just last week, I was telling Rach about something sweet that Mark had done for me. Her eyes got all teary and she declared, "Daddy is the best!".

It is with that understated background that I move to part two of my story.
About a year ago, Rachel came to us with a problem.

"No boys like me," she stated.
"Some boys think I'm nice and some boys think I'm smart, but that's it."

"Hmmm." I said.
"GOOD!" Mark cheered.

Maybe it's because I'm a head taller than most of them, she continued.
Maybe it's because I'm Linc's twin sister, she theorized.
Maybe, they just don't think I'm cute.

After a few minutes of listening, we were ready with some words of advice:
Mark reminded her that she does not need to worry about boys liking her until she has her first date at around age 30.

I thanked him for his empathy and sensitivity.

Being the somewhat wise and relatively all-seeing mother that I am, I gently made a prediction...

Rachel, I said.
When you get to 7th grade, things will change.
Boys will start to notice you.
Boys will start to like you.
You will have lots of boys trying to get your attention.

We hugged her and sent her off to bed and that was that.

Fast forward a year and I have been somewhat shocked with the accuracy of my foresight.
Apparently, there is something about jr. high that makes boys come out of the woodwork.

In the past month, she has had boy after boy ask her to "go out" (this is where you publicly declare that you like one another), one boy tell her that he loves her, several offers to buy her a soda at the State Fair Field Trip and one proposal of marriage. (Yes, I'm serious)

Things are definitely a changing.

Boys that used to come over to see Linc are now coming over to see his sister. Last week, he said that a kid asked him, "So Lincoln, when is your sis.. umm I mean when is your birthday?" He said that another boy wrote all over his hand "I Love Rachel".

My favorite was a boy from school who found my name on Facebook and sent me a message introducing himself and asking if I thought he had a chance with Rachel. I guess if all else fails, play the win-over-mom card.

Wow has this ever been a drastic turn of events.
So far, Rach has turned down all of these declarations of teenage love.
Oh, one boy has caught her eye, but Justin Beiber and David Archuleta are still tops on her list at the moment.

Mark hasn't been as amused.
It's not so funny to him.

Here is a harmless example of Rachel showing off her newly made flip flops to one of Linc's buddies.
Dad is not that thrilled.

Maybe he was serious about the first date around age 30 comment or maybe he just sees the first small glimpses of the fact that he will only be Rachel's first love until her first love comes along.

All too quickly she will be grown up. In the coming years there will be many likes, a few loves and a broken heart or two along the way.  The love letters to Daddy will decrease, disagreements may arise and he will probably slip a couple of slots from his Prince like status.

Poor Mark.

He's got a little over three years to prepare for Rachel's first date, I hope that's enough time.
When that day arrives, it could potentially cause Mark to cry like a baby.
If that happens,
I'll tell him to take a relaxing bath,
I'll be there to rub his back and take him for a long ride in the car.
That drill will seem all too familiar to me.


....And so goes the circle of dads and their daughters.















Sunday, October 3, 2010

Start Here

Today is a sky blue, hint of fall, early October Sunday.
It also happens to be one of my favorite days of the year.
Members of my faith from around the world will gather in churches and homes to hear messages from our leaders.

We will be given instruction on how to be stronger families, more Christlike neighbors and just better people in general.

We will be inspired to try harder and to do a little better.

We will be reminded that it really is the basics of:
Daily family and individual prayer,
Daily family and individual scripture study,
Attending our church meetings,
Regular temple attendance for those who live  near a temple,
Family Home Evening on Monday nights
And being kind to everyone, especially our own family members.

These are the things that invite the Spirit into our lives.
When we have the Spirit always with us, we want to do good things.
We think of the Savior and want to be more like Him.

When the Savior becomes the central part of our lives and our homes, a transformation starts to happen.  We strengthen ourselves from the evils of the world.  Things like pornography, crude language, dishonesty and envy have no appeal.  We become more grateful, humble and open to correction.

Relationships within our families become closer and conflicts decrease.
We become more committed to doing good and looking for the good in others.
We see the world with happy and optimistic eyes.

When trials come, we have faith.
When we make mistakes, we repent.

In short, today is a day for re-commitment and rejuvenation.
It is a day that shouts, "Start here!"
No matter where we are in this process, we can start right now.

So, let's get started!

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

See Sam Chapter 10


See Sam.Did you know that Sam is an artist?
She loves to color and paint and draw pictures.
Sam can spend an entire 1/2 hour working on this talent.

She paints beautiful rainbows....


She draws amazing self portraits...



And here is a picture of Sam's own hand catching
a pretty blue butterfly.


Usually when Sam has completed an art project, she finds a spot to display it on the fridge. Sometimes, the fridge is so covered with impressive works of art, a person could actually mistake it for a fine art gallery.

Mom loves her little artist.

See Mom.
Guess what Dad got Mom for her birthday?
A new fridge!
Mom got a new fridge for her birthday!

This fridge has fancy settings and lights and two cool freezer drawers.
Mom is so excited, she hugs the fridge.

Dad moves the old fridge out to the dark garage while Sam transfers her art projects to their shiny, new, stainless home.

Mom and Dad are standing in the kitchen, admiring the beautiful new fridge when Sam asks,
"Can I have a flashlight Daddy?"

Dad gets Sam a flashlight as he and Mom discuss all the
exciting features of their new purchase.
A few minutes go by before Mom and Dad
realize that Sam is gone.
Where is she?

"Sam, Sam!"
"Where are you, Sam?" they ask.
Then Mom hears some noise coming from the dark garage.

Mom opens the door to find Sam with her flashlight.
Sam is hanging up all of her precious works of art on the old , white fridge.

"Sami," asks Mom gently,
"Why are you out here in the cold, dark garage?"
"Why are you hanging your beautiful pictures on the old fridge?"

"Because" answers Sam sadly with tears in her eyes,
"they won't stick on the new fridge."

Sam is right.
Magnets won't stick to stainless.
What good is a fancy fridge if you can't use it as an art gallery?

Mom and Sam are sad.
Mom feels extra sad.

Mom feels so sad that suddenly a great idea pops into her head.

Mom grabs her purse and runs to the store.
Mom returns with a few supplies and a couple of hours later, dad hangs up Sam's very own board. It is in a special spot in the kitchen.

Sam quickly fills up her new board with art work.

"I love my Sam Board!" squeals Sam.
"I love my Sam," says mom.

Happy Sam.
Happy Mom.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The Magic of a Zinnia Seed




I love zinnias. They are my most favorite flower, ever.
Their bright, bold colors just seem to say "happy".

I can never get over the potential magic that is tucked away in those humble, unpretentious , seemingly insignificant seeds. It is one of nature's little miracles.

When I get old, I am planning to look very similar to this:



I am going to buy one of these:



Then, I am going to spend my springtimes traveling around, sprinkling little seeds of beauty everywhere I go.

Like Johnny, people will know me as Kimberly Zinnia Seed.
I could possibly become legendary.
It will be awesome!

True, I cannot grow a decent vegetable garden
(3 golf ball size tomatoes this year, sigh and sigh)
but I can always grow a zinnia patch.

So easy, a two year old can do it!



Just take a handful of seeds.

Sprinkle them in a little patch of earth.


Add water and lots of sunshine.

Then sit back and watch the magic unfold.













It really is just that easy!

Because I am still a few years away from traveling the countryside on my bicycle
and because I cannot bring myself to throw any zinnia seeds away,
I have approximately 4,539,087 seeds stored in our gardening shed.

If you would like to discover the magic of a zinnia seed for yourself, please let me know and I will take good care of you.

Oh, and if you happen to understand the magic of a tomato seed and would like to enlighten me, I would so appreciate it.