See Sam Chapter 9

See Sam.
Sam loves her big sister.

Issy is one of Sam's favorites.
Sam wants to be just like Issy.

When Issy goes to ballet lessons, Sam puts on her dancing dress and pretends that she is going too.

When Issy goes to school, Sam gets her backpack and pretends that she is big enough to go.

When Sam sees Issy pray, she wants to pray too.

When Issy plays the piano, Sam wants to sit next to her and "pac-tiss".

When Issy explained to Sam that diapers are no fun and that big girl panties are much more hip, Sam agreed!

Sam quit using her potty for art supply storage and started using it as the mother saving device it was intended to be.

Oh how Sam loves Issy!

Issy is the best!

Three weeks ago, Sam decided to brush her own teeth.

Sam is good at brushing her own teeth, just like Issy.

Mmmm clean teeth feel great.

While Sam was brushing her teeth, something sparkly

caught her eye.

"Whoa!" Thought Sam.

Sam spied Issy's special sparklies, the ones she

just bought with her baby sitting money.

Sam knows she should ask Issy for permission.

Sam knows that Issy will share, but Sam is so mesmerized by the sparklies, that all of her

self control goes straight into the potty. (You know, the same spot where the art supplies used to be?)

Sam is overcome by the temptation of those little

containers of brilliance.

Sam can't help herself.

She covers herself in millions of tiny, glittery bits of twinkle.

Sparklies are EVERYWHERE.

Sam comes downstairs to confess her crime.

When Sam's family gasps at the sight of all those sparklies,

Sam says, "TA-DA, now I wook just like Issy!"

"Oh Sam" sighs Issy.

Issy is very patient with Sam.

Issy only gets a little irritated.

Daddy and Budda are less patient when they keep finding leftover sparklies on suits and baseball uniforms.

Mom has tried and tried to wash all those sparklies out but three weeks later, Sam still has sparklies imbedded in her scalp.

Whenever Issy notices them glimmering in the sunlight, she smiles at Sam.

Issy loves Sam.

Sam loves Issy.

Happy Sam.

Happy Issy.

Slacker No More

There are a couple of very good reasons that I have not written a blog in nearly two months.
Their names are Lincoln and Rachel.

We have been so wrapped up in dance, baseball and a million other things that we have barely come up for air. I have no idea what is going on in the world and I have missed some very important emails. Most of all, I have been out of touch with my fellow bloggers.

This morning I woke up early and spent two lovely hours getting caught up on the happenings of friends and family.
I have missed you all. I need your updates. I love your pictures! I am amazed by your talents! I love to see the great things your kids are doing! I am uplifted by you!

I have also missed my own time recording the little things that make life sweet.

So I am taking a solemn vow to not fall behind again.

If there is anyone out there who still checks this blog, I commit to do better.
Here's to a long, lazy, blog filled summer!

Dear D. Will

Dear D. Will,

Hi, my name is Kimberly. I am writing to you on behalf of my son, Lincoln.

Lincoln is a pretty amazing kid, D. Will.
He is a loving and kind brother.
He has never had a "B" in his life.
He is obedient.
He even practices the piano without complaining!

But guess what else he is, D.Will?
He is a loyal, faithful Jazz Fan.
This kid is true blue, for real.

He watched his first game at age 12 hours.

He cried for two days when John Stockton retired without winning an NBA Championship, he was five.

And remember that terrible day three years ago when you guys lost to the New York Knicks?
AKA "The worst team in the league"?
Well, all I can say is click on the video clip below to see how that went over.

Lincoln knows all about players, stats, positions and strategies. He is literally a walking sports page.

The point is, D. Will, I really need you to lead the Jazz to victory this year.

No pressure, just my child's hopes and dreams riding on your shoulders, that's all.

You are just the man for the job.

You're amazing!

You're awesome!

You have rock star status around our house.

I believe in you, D. Will, you can do it!

Thanks so much!

Very Sincerely Yours,

Kimberly

The Luckiest Day of My Life

Twenty Four years and one week ago was the luckiest day of my life.
(No, it wasn't the day I was born, but thanks anyway. Ha Ha.)

Twenty four years ago I was a 17 year old seminary student.
It was springtime and that meant the annual Seminary Computer Dance was upon high schoolers throughout the valley. The basic idea was that each student would fill out a questionaire about his or her self. Likes, dislikes, hobbies, etc. Each school would send in the profiles of their students and POOF, like magic, the computer would set you up with a compatible date from another school.

Oh the excitement of who you might get set up with!
Everyone was eager and excited at the prospect of who their date might be....
Everyone except me.

I thought the whole thing sounded like a silly idea. I rolled my eyes at my friends as they busily filled out their questionaires.

"NO thanks, NOPE and NOT me."
These are the things I said to my snobby self.

The next couple of weeks were spent helping my girlfriends network to obtain the necessary information and yearbooks from surrounding schools. It was our mission to find out as much about their assigned dates as we could. I  bit my lip and tried to hide my self righteous, told you so smile as one by one, no impressive information appeared.  And the yearbook pictures?  Well they didn't exactly match up with the dreamy lifeguard types they were hoping for. I have to admit feeling a bit smug as the sting of disappointment settled over our group.

Finally, the day of the dance rolled around.
I was out working in the yard with my mom when the phone rang.
Dad came outside to get me.
I was a little shocked when the woman on the line introduced herself as the coordinator for the Seminary Dating Service.

"Kimberly, we understand that you are not going to the dance tonight and we have a young man who's date has cancelled, we were wondering if you would be willing to go with him."

Her voice was so sweet, almost familiar in a crazy kind of way.

I paused for a moment.  I pictured some poor, dejected boy who couldn't get a date, even from a seminary dating service.

Sad.
Really sad.
So. Extremely. Sad.

Then, almost before I knew it, I  agreed to go.  It was one of those moments when the words fly out of your mouth and you wish you could grab them and stuff them back in.

"Great! He'll pick you up at 6:00." she quickly replied.
"Wait!" I stammered.
"What is his name?"
"What school is he from?"

"Oh, you'll see when he gets there."
"Goodbye." and the line was dead.

Now remember, the year is 1986.
No such thing as caller id.
No ability to google someone's name.
No way of knowing if this was real or a joke.

As soon as I hung up the phone, anxiety settled over me.
"I don't want to go."  I confided to my parents.

My dad reassured me, "I will answer the door when he comes.  If I don't feel good about it when I meet him, I'll tell him you can't go."

"If he pulls up in the driveway and honks the horn, I'm not going either!" I huffed.
Dad agreed.

A couple of hours seemed more like a couple of days.  I got my hairspray out and did my best
 Mid-80's- Do, put on my best floral print dress and waited for my date to arrive.

My mom and I were upstairs in her room when a loud, obnoxious horn began to honk in the driveway.
"That's it!" I hollered.
"I'm not going!"

Mom tried to calm me down as Dad answered the door.

A couple of minutes later, Dad appeared.
"It's ok," he reassured me.

"Are you sure?" I questioned.

Dad put an arm around me as we walked down the stairs.

I will never forget peeking  around the banister to see a very red faced Mark standing there with a single rose in his hand.

Mark?
I was confused.
I knew Mark, or rather, I knew who he was.
We went to the same school.  In fact, he had just been crowned Jr. Prom King a week or two earlier.

It turns out that Mark's sister, Christie, had heard that I was not going to the dance.
While Mark was at work that Saturday, his assigned date called and told his mom that she couldn't make it to the dance.

Christie and Marilyn put their heads together and came up with Yours Truly.
Marilyn was the "Seminary Dating Service Impostor Coordinator" who called me.

When Mark arrived home from work that day, he was told that his original date had cancelled but guess what??
 Mom &  Sister to the rescue!  (Imagine how thrilled he must have been.)

Mark's friends were in the driveway, piled into a great big Suburban.
They honked again and Mark apologized.
Poor guy was so embarrassed.

My dad hugged me as Mark and I  left for our first date.
Who would have ever guessed?

When I returned home that night my parents were waiting eagerly for all the details.
"There is something special about that boy." said my Dad with a smile.
"I like him."

Twenty four years later, here we are.
How lucky I feel.  How blessed I am.
Twenty four years later, he still makes my heart skip.
Twenty four years later I still think he is the most handsome, kind, thoughtful person I have ever known.
He is hands down, no doubt about it, the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I have wished a hundred times that I could cross paths with the girl who stood him up.
I wish I could take her to lunch and thank her for making April 12, 1986 the luckiest day of my life.

Oh, and thanks to  Mama and Sister Bear for taking matters into their own paws.
You guys are the best.

Because They Love the Lord

A few weeks ago we said a tearful goodbye to two of our favorite people.

For some reason, they're just not content to be retired.
Sleeping in late, catching a movie in the middle of the day because-you-can, vacationing and having plenty of time on their hands just wasn't their thing.

We protested a little when they mentioned that they would like to serve another mission.
After all, they had only been home from the Congo for a year.  We assured  them that there is a lot of good they could be doing right here.

Stay home.
Enjoy retired life.
Rest a bit.
Travel!
Work at the temple.
Volunteer in the community.
"Theses are great things to do!" we pleaded.

They didn't buy our story.

"It's not the same," they said gently.

So, with tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces, they packed a few suitcases, kissed us on our cheeks, reminded us to take care of each other and headed back to Africa.

I cried the whole day.

I thought about all the things I will miss.
So many little things, like working in the yard together on a summer morning.

Grandpa's voice leading the cheering section at a baseball game.

Rachel turning down an invitation with friends to hang out with Grandma.

It's the world's best barbeque.

An ice cream, a push on the swing or a game of H-O-R-S-E with grandma.

It's the hugs, the kisses, the words of encouragement.

It's the evening talks on the back porch and sitting together at church.

Nothing too spectacular at first glance but when you weave all those moments together, it is like creating an unbreakable cord that binds us together.

I will miss that.
I will miss them.

Some folks probably scratch their heads and wonder why Grandma and Grandpa would give up the comforts of home and family, why they would travel to a distant country to live among a people so different from themselves, why they would work harder than they have ever worked and do all of this at their own expense.

The answer is simple....
Because they love Jesus Christ.
They know Him, they trust Him, they believe Him.
They know that by serving others, they serve Him.

The people of Uganda need them.
And to become who they want to be, they need the people of Uganda.

So, we say goodbye for a time.
We  keep our chins up and work on being more like them.
We follow their adventures and pray faithfully for their safety and success.
When we look next door and start to feel sad, we think about clean water for the thirsty, eye sight for the blind, newborn babies saved, wheelchairs for those who can't walk and most of all...
Grandparents who love the Lord.

Click on the video below to see how they are changing the world...

one Child of God at a time.

(You Tube has placed an ad. on this video, just click the X to make them go away.)

You can read more about their experience at http://barlowsinuganda.blogspot.com/.

To learn more about the Humanitarian Program of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints click here.

See Sam Chapter 8

See Sam.
Sam has a new talent.
Sam is good at recognizing when one person resembles another person.

"Wook, Issy!"  "That's you!!", says Sam when she watches Dragon Tales.
Issy wooks like Emmy!

"Wook, Mommy!" "That's you!!", says Sam when she sees a picture of Nina and Star.
Mommy wooks like Nina!

"Wook, Daddy!" "That's you and me!!", squeels Sam when the Beast turns into a handsome prince.
Daddy wooks like the handsome prince.
Sam wooks like Belle.

"Wook, Budda!" "That's you!!", Sam giggles when Noddy comes on tv.
"That's me?", answers Brother glumly.
"Are you sure, Sam?"
"Yes!"
"Yes!"
Budda wooks like Noddy!

"Oh my world!!", Sam gasps when she is looking through a book.
"Wook!"
"Wook!"
"Wook!"
"Uncle Nate is in this book!"

Happy Sam.
Happy. Uncle. Nate.

A Tap on the Shoulder

Do you ever get the sense that God is trying to tell you something?

You know what I'm talking about, one of those heavenly taps on the shoulder.

For me, they are usually promptings to do something for someone or change something about myself.

Last week it was a loud and clear CHANGE something, Kimberly.

Those aren't so fun.

It started on Monday.

Samantha and I picked up the twins from school for their monthly visit with Dr. Money Bags, (aka the orthodontist).    We have a regular routine of dropping them off, then we hurry to Wendy's, pick up lunch,  back to the orthodontist just in time for them to be done.  We sit in the car and have lunch together and then it's back to school.  We only have a 45 minute window to accomplish all this, so time is tight.  

We all know the drill and it works out well most of the time.  Sami and I were in the drive thru   part of the routine and I have to say, it was taking a long time.  There was a large, white van full of kids and an overworked mom ahead of us.  I was singing along to the radio when Samantha rolled down her window and shouted at the van, "Come on Lady!  Let's get a move on here!"

SAM! I gasped.

Shocked-  I wondered where she had heard that.

As quick as the question popped into my head, so did the answer.

From. Me.

I had to confess that I am a mutter-er.

I don't honk or give nasty looks but I do mutter.

I mutter and now my two year old does too.

I thought about my impatience, I don't like to wait.

I vowed to be more patient.

I vowed to stop muttering.

Unfortunately, I quickly forgot about my new vows.

A couple of days later part two of the message came.

Sami and I were heading into Discovery Gateway (aka her favorite place on earth).

We walked up the stairs with a mom and a little girl who looked about 18 months old.

They were a few steps ahead of us and moving quite slow.  They stopped at the color wheel and we had to wait behind them, they stopped at the bubble canisters and we had to wait again.  Finally I asked Sam if we could skip the big coin bowl and just go straight to the admissions window.  She wanted to wait for a turn but I was done being behind an overly patient mom who let her little girl touch and explore everything.

So we politely went around them and got in line.  Soon they were right behind us.  

The woman at the window gave us our bracelets and we were walking into the museum when suddenly music started blasting, guys with tv cameras rushed in, smiling people in fancy suits and dresses clapped and cheered. Confetti, balloons and a $500.00 gift basket appeared.

It turns out that the overly patient mom was the 1,000,000th visitor to Discovery Gateway.

Guess who 999,997 and 999,998 were?

"Aww, you were so close", said the cute girl at the admissions window.

You have no idea is what I wanted to say back.

So there you have it.

Two painful yet heavenly reminders that I need to be more patient, less hurried.

More cheerful, less mutter-y.

I get it, I really do.

I'm working on it, I really am.

So the next time you get one of those little heavenly, sometimes painful taps on the shoulder, my advice is to take the easy way out...  listen.