Happy Thanksgiving!

From our family to yours.

Isaac's Thanksgiving Art...

"A Turkey Eating a Chicken"

How awesome is that?

Gratitude Jar

This Thanksgiving season, instead of making a blessing tree as we've done in the past, we decided to have a Gratitude Jar which we filled with all our blessings.  I put the jar near the kitchen with a stack of papers beside it, and everyday (or whenever the Spirit moved us) we could write something down and stick in the jar.

Over the past few nights we have been reading through the dozens and dozens and dozens of blessings our family is thankful for.  Some of the entries are hilarious, others are tender and sincere.  It has been a great experience to read through these and to get additional insight into what our children are thankful for.  As we have read through them, it is clear that as a family, we have much to be grateful for.

Henry's contributions to the jar were comprised of almost any three-letter word he can sound out by himself.  They included everything from Mom and Dad, to BYU, sun, max, bed and boy.  He also included several entries of "Laura" (his aunt whose name he has learned to write) and "burger".

Abby and Isaac both expressed gratitude for Mom and Dad, great teachers, good school, toys, church, family and books. Abby is grateful for candy and the beach and Isaac is grateful for "pilgrums and Indeeins and Thanksgiving." He is also grateful for "food and meet."

Andrew is grateful for his job, for good friends, for Peter's talking, Henry's writing and drawing and for healthy kids.

My list is long this year.  I am grateful for our new baby girl, healthy kids, a wonderful husband, amazing parents and siblings, my testimony and Andrew's job.  In addition, I am grateful for hot showers, a warm bed, a dishwasher, a computer, good books, kids who LOVE to read, amazing school teachers for my kids and a great piano teacher.  I am grateful for Sunday dinners with family, for good friends and neighbors and for this beautiful world.  The list could go on and on and on....

We have loved focusing on our blessings this month.  I hope I will continue to remember all the things I have to be grateful for and hope that I can teach my children to do the same. We have loved our Gratitude Jar that has inspired each of us to count our blessings and name them one by one by one.

On the Mend...

There is nothing - but nothing - worse than having a sick baby,

and my little Lucy has been one sick baby lately.

After a whole week with a high fever, and body aches and chills...

After feeling grouchy, uncomfortable and irritable,

and being misdiagnosed by a pediatrician, (it wasn't "just a virus")

After a looking so pale and sad and going a whole week without a smile or a coo...

After stressing me out and making me worry that we were missing something really serious....

Andrew came to the rescue and finally figured out what was making our girl so miserable.*

Now, after a couple of doses of IV antibiotics, Lucy is finally starting to feel like herself again.

Thanks Andrew for being our knight in shining armor.

No matter what it is, dads just have a way of taking care of their little girls.

WE LOVE YOU!

*After a chest x-ray, blood work and a urinalysis Andrew figured out it was an UTI that had spread to her kidneys and had made her one really sick baby.

Thank heaven for Andrew and for antibiotics.
(only twelve more days to go,)

This Morning...

To say that I am not a fan of winter is the understatement of the year.  I have about a 40-day tolerance of snow, ice and cold.  Those 40 days start right about now, and last until about a week after Christmas.  After that, I am done with winter.

That said, there is nothing more spectacular than the morning after a good snowfall.  How can I hate winter when I look out my back door and see this:

or when I look down the street and see this:

The dark branches draped with pristine snow against the brilliant blue sky is nothing short of spectacular.   That it lasts only a short time, (it melts as soon as the sun hits it) makes it even more breathtaking.

So, although I may struggle with winter now, if I could wake up to fresh snow, blue skies and sunshine everyday until March, winter could well be on its way to becoming my favorite season.

High School Football (circa 1996)

All across the country this time of year, our thoughts and minds turn to...

High School Football Playoffs!

Okay, so maybe not.  But every year at this time, I can't help but remember the high school football playoffs of 1996.  Seriously.

In the fall of 1996, my brother Richard was a senior at East High School.  Since the time Richard was eight-years-old, he had played on a football team with the same group of guys.  And every fall for nine years, I had watched Rich and his team play.  More often than not, I had cheered them on to victory and loved every minute of it.

Now, they were seniors and it was their last season to play together.  Even before the season started, there was talk that this was a team that could take the state title.  Everyone in my neighborhood was pumped about the season and was excited to cheer this team on.

Rich and my sister, Emily (their biggest fan.)

There was only one problem.... I was moving to Washington, DC on September 1st and would miss the entire season.  Two days before I left, I went to watch Richard's game.  As I watched East beat West I wondered if that would be the last time I would see Rich play football.  As I got ready to leave a few days later, I told Richard that I was going to buy a return ticket to Utah for the weekend before Thanksgiving so that I would be home for the State Championship game.   I told Rich that I wanted East in that game so I could watch him play football one last time.

Well, I made the move to DC, and every Friday night, I would call home to see if East had won their game that night.  And, every week my parents reported that East had won.  There were a couple of games that were too close for comfort, but there were several in which East didn't even let the other team score.

East finished the season undefeated and the playoffs started.  The dream of going to the championship game was starting to become a reality.  The day of the quarterfinals, I was a nervous wreck in DC.  I was so emotionally invested - even from across the country - that I was pacing my apartment waiting to hear the score.  Finally, my mom called to tell me that in the final minutes of the game, East had almost lost to Spanish Fork - but in the end had won by 2.  I remember jumping around my apartment yelling.  I was so excited.  They just needed to win one more game and then they'd be playing in the championship game.

The next week, East played Box Elder in the semi-finals and beat them 13-0.  When I found out, I couldn't believe it.  East would be playing Timpview in the championship game - and I was going to be there to see it.

When I flew into Utah, the night before the big game, Richard had already gone up to Ogden with his team, where the game was to be played.  I wouldn't be able to see him before the game, but I called him that night to wish him luck.

"Rich," I said, "I won't see you before the game but I'll be there in the stands cheering.  I came all the way from DC to watch you play this game and I want you to score a touchdown for me."

(I'm sure he was rolling his eyes at me.)

As Rich and I talked, he said that he would give me a sign after scoring a touchdown - something that would symbolize that I had flown all the way from Washington, DC to watch him play football for the last time.

The next day my family piled in the car and drove to Weber State to watch the game.  We were nervous but so excited for this game.  This was the culminating event of nine years of football and we knew they were a good enough team to win.  I know prayers were said out loud and in our hearts the whole way to the game.

Finally, it was game time and what a great game it was.  Early in the first quarter, my cute brother Richard, the boy I had been watching play football since he was eight-years-old,  caught a pass and ran it into the end zone for a touchdown.  And then, as he ran off the field, he held up his hands to make a "W" - a sign that he knew I was there from Washington watching him and cheering him on.

For some reason, my eyes still well up with tears when I think about that.  My sweet brother, in his ultimate moment of high school glory, greatness and excitement, remembered me.  Now that is a sweet brother.

East went on to win the game 37 - 0.  It was an amazing game.  We were waving flags and screaming until our throats were sore.  We cried and hugged all the other families there.  It was such a fun day and a dream come true.

So really, every year at this time, I can't help but think back to that football season of 1996 and feel the thrill of it all over again.

Thanks Rich.

Really, six months?

The calendar tells me that it has been six months since Lucy was born, but I have a hard time believing that.  On the one hand, it feels like she just got here, but at the same time it seems that her gentle and familiar spirit has always been a part of our family.

Oh, we love this girl.  Honestly, I thank my Heavenly Father everyday for sending her to our family.  What a gift.  What a miracle.  What a joy.

I have to say I love six-month-old babies.  This really is the perfect age.

Here's what I love about six-month-old Lucy.

Her smile lights up any time someone walks into the room.  She loves everyone and smiles at anyone who makes eye contact with her.  I love it when she smiles so big, she looks like she's ready to turn inside out.

She is strong enough to hold her neck up and keep her back straight while I carry her on my hip, but she is small enough (almost 13 pounds) that she can still sleep in the bassinet next to my bed. (I have a hard time letting my babies go.)

Lucy is able to roll over - but she's not really mobile yet.  I can put her on a blanket to play - and she stays there.

Her eyes have turned dark brown - except for one little triangle on the bottom of her right eye, which is still blue.    She also has the most perfectly shaped little lips.

Lucy loves doing crunches.  Whenever she is lying on her back, whether it's in her bed or while I'm changing her diaper, she'll lift her head to look around at what's going on.  That girl is going to have some serious abs.

She takes two great naps during the day.  At church, she is still able to fall asleep in my arms, which I absolutely love.  She also sleeps 12-13 hours a night which helps me be a happy mom.

She talks and gurgles and coos.  She blows bubbles and sticks out her tongue.  She watches her hands and nibbles on her own toes.

She is all girl.  She is delicate and dainty and gentle.  When I hold her up on my shoulder she gently plays with my earrings - holding them in her finger tips - studying them as if she is inspecting the craftsmanship.  She also loves feeling buttons and lace trims and the ties on blankets - and is delicate as she examines each of them.

She is a dream to have around and we all adore her.

Yes, six-months is definitely my favorite age.... at least until she turns seven-months.

Lucy (6 months) and cousin Lila (3 months.)

These girls are going to be great friends - as soon as Lila wakes up.

twenty years later

I was a child of the '80s and as such, one of the things I spent a lot of time thinking about was the Berlin Wall.  I was too young to understand the political history that brought about the creation of the wall, but I knew the wall had divided families and had taken away basic freedoms and I knew it was wrong.

In 1981, I saw the movie "Night Crossing", a movie which depicts the escape of two families from East Germany to West Germany in a hot air balloon.  I loved this movie and for weeks I would lie in my bed at night, imagining if I were stuck in East Germany, what I would do to escape.  (I never came up with anything better than a hot air balloon.)

I didn't know much about Berlin, but I knew that someday I wanted to go there and see the wall for myself.   I wanted to see and understand what kind of structure could divide a city and keep families apart.

I vividly remember twenty years ago today, sitting with my family watching the news coverage of the Berlin wall coming down.  It was one of those moments during which I was keenly aware that I was witnessing history.  My heart swelled with emotion as I watched people streaming through gaps in the wall where, the day before, there had been a concrete barrier and guards with machine guns preventing any trespassing.  It was a day I will always remember.

A couple of years later,  I finally got my chance to see what was still standing of the Berlin wall - but it was under much different circumstances than I would have ever dreamed when I was a little girl in the early 80s.

I was called to serve as a missionary in Berlin - and that is something that wasn't even possible just a few years before.  I remember the first time I ever went to the Brandenburg Gate and to Checkpoint Charlie and saw the museum dedicated to the history of the Berlin Wall, I realized more strongly than ever, that being in Berlin as a missionary was part of a miracle and an amazing privilege.

Berlin is an incredible city with a unique history.  It didn't take me long to fall in love with it and with all of the former East Germany.  I met wonderful people who had endured so much.  I fell in love with the food; Doners, Rotkohl, Rote Grutze, Sauerbraten, Apfelstrudel, Lebkuchen and Springerle.  I loved the Christmas Markets that were in every town - where I smelled "chestnuts roasting on an open fire" for the first time. I loved the sights and sounds and museums and architecture and history and the people of Berlin.  It is an amazing city and it was a momentous time in my life.

This week, as I have read about the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin wall, I have thought so much about my time there.  I still can't believe how fortunate I was to serve a mission there.  The fall of the Berlin wall was a huge moment in the history of mankind, and a huge moment in my own life.   As I watched the news on November 9, 1989 there was no way I could have known the person I would become because of experiences I would have where the Berlin Wall once stood.

To celebrate, I made a German dinner tonight - a roast, potatoes, rotkohl and Rote Grutze for dessert.

It was fun to make and was a hit with the whole family.

All I need now is a trip back to Berlin.