A Few of My Favorite Things

My husband's grandmother made this quilt for us when we got married. It was begging for a matching pillow. Thanks to some math help from my foster dad, I was able to figure out a crochet pattern. And before you go thinking that I am one of those people who can sew or crochet without a pattern, I'm not. I just got really lucky this time!

This item may seem silly, but every time I see this basket, it makes me smile inside. I got the idea from a catalog, which had this saying displayed right on the material in the basket. I thought it would be even better if it looked like it was circled and ripped out of a want ad.

I love to hide unsightly useful objects whenever I can. This pot of flowers (which is a bouquet of pens) and paper-covered phone book makes me feel like my counter top is uncluttered. (When it actually IS uncluttered, which is hardly ever, but I'm working on that!)

Lily Dee

I was almost six months pregnant when my sister called to tell me she was also expecting. We talked about how fun future family gatherings would be with the little cousins playing together. I could also picture sisterly phone conversations as we passed through the motherhood phases together.

My sister's doctor recommended bed rest when her baby was nearly full term. Because her husband was serving in Iraq, I packed up my baby girl and went to stay with her as much as possible.

It was nice to just be together. I became addicted to HGTV. And when TLC had a "Clean Sweep" marathon, I was suddenly a couch potato.

I took a picture of my sister standing in the pink nursery with a rocking chair and a crib all made up behind her.

On one of her appointment days, I went home. I wish I could go back in time and change that day. I wish I would have been there with her when the doctor told her that her baby was going to die.

The next week was like a foggy dream. I longed for the right words, and the intuition to hug her at the right moment. Instead, in trying to help, I felt completely helpless.

I took her phone and talked to people so she wouldn't have to. I tried to give her space so she could cherish the time she had left with her daughter.

I was not there when Lily was born. I did not want to intrude on that private moment between my sister and her husband, who was able to come home for a couple months. I was on the way there when my dad called me. He said, "Lily didn't make it." It was Valentine's Day. I thought of the first time my baby looked at me. I cried bitterly, knowing my sister would not have that experience now.

My sister gave birth without the aid of pain medication. At birth, the baby never took a breath, but she was warm, small, and beautiful. I arrived not long after. When I walked into the hospital room, I put my baby, asleep in her carseat, in the corner. Then I went to admire the delicate features of my lost little niece. My sister asked where my daughter was. She asked to see her. My sister's love for my daughter never diminished, not even in her deepest anguish.

The funeral was a few days later. After the tiny pink coffin had been lowered into the ground, I watched as my sister bent low to the ground, almost reaching. My dad knelt on one side of her and held her hand while my mom held her arm on her other side. It was the first time in years our parents had been anywhere near each other. They came together for my sister. That moment was so painful, but somehow it was also beautiful.

I don't know many things, but I know that we are eternal, and I know God loves us.

I think it is fitting that Lily's Day will always be the day the world celebrates love.

Snapshots of the Sacred Garden

Sadly, this garden has been uprooted. I'm glad I got a few pictures of it first.



I pray for my sister as she searches for a new place to plant.

Living in the Sticks

Yesterday I wanted to dye. Okay: not funny. But really, I wanted to dye some lace and in previous weeks I was unable to find dye in the color I wanted at any of the four stores that might possibly sell it in my area. I had even checked Walmart last time I was in the "city," but no taupe or cream or tan. This was no surprise to me since it seems Walmart never has what I need anymore. We've been on the outs for quite awhile now, but I'm thinking about divorcing Wally for good.

Anyway, so yesterday I made it my mission to search every grocery or department store in the "city," which is almost thirty miles from my house. I even stopped at a sparsely stocked shopping center on the way, with no luck. Then came the exercise workout of harnessing and unharnessing a one-year-old and two-year-old what felt like fifty times to all of us, not to mention carrying thirty pounds of wiggly until my arms ached. Lowe's? No. Kmart? No. Family Dollar? No. Smith's? No! (But I almost laughed out loud in the laundry aisle when I heard U2 empathetically singing from above, "And I still haven't found...what I'm looking for...")

So, after searching four stores in my town, and another four in the "city," I finally found tan dye in the fifth store, which I guess was really the ninth store.

I almost giggled.

Quoting the Cute: Page Seven

My oldest daughter said to me after I took away her toy for misbehaving: "When I grow up, I'm never gonna come visit you. You'll be sorry!" I turned from her and stifled a laugh, picturing my daughter as a grown woman refusing to visit me because I took away her sticky foot when she was six.

My two-year-old has the funniest vocabulary: lollipop (but she means soda pop), honeybird (but she means hummingbird), woman noodles (but she means Ramen noodles, which makes me laugh, especially because of this). I absolutely love the way she says her sister's name. A couple of weeks ago, she had a nasty cold and every time she'd cough and I'd sympathize, she'd say, "I not sick. I just sneezing a little."

My baby has gone verbal. He loves to say "hi!" (especially to strangers), sometimes "bye," but he loves "hi" the best. He says "uh-uh" instead of "uh-oh," and it's very endearing with his gravelly little boy voice (which is still so intriguing to me after two girls). His answer to literally everything is a whiny two-toned "no!" (even when he really means "yes"). As you can imagine, I can have a lot of fun with this.

I Remember

Yesterday as I sat in church, three children climbing over me, taking turns in my lap (sometimes two at a time), I kissed each one as they came close to me. With each kiss also came a silent prayer of gratitude to my Father in Heaven.

Ten years ago, every Sunday I sat quietly on a bench by my husband, often wiping tears as I turned my internal conversations to God. I prayed for a miracle. I prayed for a baby as I listened to the noise of all of the children around me.

With time (years), I began to pray for joy instead of babies. I clung to the hope that the loving atonement of my Savior could heal my aching mother heart, even if I never became a mother in this life. I prayed for strength to say, "Thy will be done" and really mean it.

God is love. The gift He gave to me, the answer to that prayer, is one of my greatest treasures (and I love that it is also a blessing to my children). I thank Him every day for my happiness: the happiness that comes because of Him, not because of them. My children do make me happy, yes! But I understand that the joy He gave to me (before I knew my children existed) is eternal.

It is a good thing, because I can see that they are going to grow up and go away long before I am ready!

Life's Messy Lessons

As a mother, I've witnessed how a lot of accomplishments come after a messy process. For example, when a toddler first begins self-feeding with a spoon, it never fails that more of the food ends up everywhere else than in the mouth. And don't even get me started about potty training...

And then there's learning to roller skate or ride a bike without training wheels...

Sometimes I forget that one of the main reasons I am here is to learn as I wallow down the muddy pathways or trails that seem to have more stumbling blocks than stepping stones.

In the end, all of those messy misses and painful crashes and overwhelming regrets add up to wisdom and the gratitude that only comes with hindsight.

It helps to know there is One who has taken this path before. He made it safely Home, and because of Him, I can too.



Proverbs 3: 5-6

"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways, acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths."