I have the best kids ever, just saying

I have always had very thin hair.  When I was in high school, I got really sick. I felt so gross all the time, I didn't eat much, I was beyond exhausted, and my hair started falling out. The doctors thought I was just "being a teenage girl" and had an eating disorder. Luckily, I had a brand new doctor straight out of medical school who decided maybe I really was sick. He did some in depth blood tests and discovered I had hypothyroidism. Simple fix, they put me on Synthyroid and I started feeling mountains better. But the damage to my hair was done. 

Fast forward 13 years and 3 pregnancies and my thyroid continuing to whack out on me constantly, and the damage is embarrassingly obvious.  It is the thing I am most embarrassed of.  Even when I feel like I'm looking pretty good, I take one look at my hair and my self confidence crumbles. I NEVER feel like I have good hair days. I try to sit facing walls so people aren't behind me staring at it. Intellectually, I know nobody else cares or probably even notices, but it is constantly on my mind and I am constantly trying to hide. 

Tonight, my aunt called me to suggest some oils that might help. She was genuinely trying to help and very kind. But I am soo sensitive about it, I try not to talk about it....ever. ArJay asked who was on the phone and I crumbled. I started crying and said something about how I shouldn't feel like I am going bald at 29.  Alianna and Kendall were sitting at the table eating dessert as I literally crumbled to the ground. Immediately, they both left their ice cream ( this is a big deal in our house, we guard our ice cream to the death) and came over to me. Alianna climbed into my lap and, with innocence of a ( admittedly very self assured herself and probably couldn't imagine why anyone wouldn't love themselves) child asked why I didn't like my hair. I tried to explain that it was too thin and frizzy, she just frowned. Meanwhile, Kendall started launching into a very loud story. He was being extremely goofy and giggling so much I couldn't understand 90% of what he was saying. I asked him what he was talking about. " Mom I'm telling you a funny story to make you happy and make your face better".( the tone had an implied 'Duh" at the end) Of course, I cried all the more. Kendall decided he wasn't going big enough and got more exaggerated with his goofy expressions and "funny story" so it was little more that huge hand gestures and giggles. He carried on for at least 15 minutes until I reigned in even my happy tears at the pure beauty and goodness that my children just showed me. When I finally stopped crying and was only smiling, Kendall stopped and took a huge breath( pretty sure he didn't take a deep breath the whole time as he "told his story").  " There, I made your face all clean." As I tucked him in, he touched both my cheeks, as if to reassure himself, and said " Yep, all clean. My funny story made you all better right momma?"

As I tucked in Alianna, she again asked why I didn't like my hair. I tired to say something about how I just don't think it ever looks very pretty. With the sternness of a school headmistress, she put her hand on my arm to stop my rambling and said " Well you are wrong Mom. You are beautiful, and you will always be beautiful no matter what your hairstyle." Then she gave me the fiercest hug.

So, just so you know, I have the best kids ever.  They already far surpass their old self conscious mom in compassion and how to deal with problems.  I hope I can be like them when I grow up.

The job description of a mom

A couple months ago I was having a conversation with some other moms about driving your kids to school. To give you some background,  They changed the boundaries and bus routes in our area.  The kids were going to Sycamore Elementary but the buses were now only going to take them to Acacia Elementary.  You could still have your kids at Sycamore, but you would have to drive them. The discussion was to switch and drive or stay and bus. One Mom let out a self deprecating laugh and quickly said " Well we have to switch, I don't have the time or energy to drive them." She then quickly scanned our faces with a look of panic as if waiting for us to cast stones at her for admitting this. It saddened me that she automatically assumed that we would judge her for admitting something is too much for her and finding an alternative that worked for her family.

When the asked me, I stated that it didn't really matter for us because Alianna was just going to Kinder so she wasn't attached to either school and I was planning to drive no matter what. Another mom said " Oh! You're THAT mom." Although her condescending tone and frosty look screamed at me " Cut the apron strings you overbearing mother and stop coddling your child! She will never do anything for herself! "  I was shocked at the clear animosity and lost for words.  I wish I had said how much I loved riding home with my mom growing up. Something about her in the front concentrating on driving made it safe for me in the back to voice some deep thoughts and fears on that short drive home.  I wish I had said that, as long as I feel I can, I would like to drive me kids to school so I can have that time with them too.  The whole conversation has bothered me, like a scab I want to itch, for a couple months.

Why do we do this to ourselves and especially each other?  We all KNOW how hard a job this is, why can't we build each other up? Why not say " Score, glad you found what works for you, I'm going to go do what works for me. " I'm not privy to private male conversations, but it seems most dads I know are proud of themselves for anything remotely parental they do, period. I imagine they all high five each other and proclaim themselves Masters of the Universe on the one day a year they get up early with the kids and make a huge Mother's day breakfast that turns the kitchen into Ground Zero. I'm exaggerating of course, but the idea still stands that we should try to be a little more proud of ourselves and each other for whatever we do accomplish.

These thoughts have been swirling in my head when I saw a friend post on facebook something along the lines of her friend joking that " driving my kids to school is not in my job description". My friend then posed the question what is in the Mom's job description? I thought a lot on that and decided I really like the idea of a job description because there is NO ONE right answer. First, think of all the minutia of motherhood, there is no way that could be quantified and written down as a job description. There's no choosing beforehand which tasks you will undertake and which are beyond what you are willing to put up with. ( If this were true, I would put it in my contract that I NEVER have to potty train a child. All my children would be under contract that they will wake up when they are 2 /2 and be fully potty trained and never have a single accident).  Also, if you were to actually write down the entirety of Motherhood, NO ONE would take that job, am I right?

I like the idea of a job description for Moms because my job is completely different than yours. My employees are different then yours so we are automatically in different jobs. You might look at my horde, I mean adorable children, and the antics they pull and think you could never handle that. That's cool, you don't have to and, likewise, I don't have to put up with the shenanigans your hooligans pull.  ArJay has been working days on Sunday for about 6 months now. This means I am the trying to wrangle my 3 children 5 and under to sit quietly, not poke each other, not escape under the pew, not throw cheerios at the kid two rows up, go out for 5 potty breaks all together all in the 1 hour of sacrament meeting by myself. This last week, we were nearly late and all the pews were taken so we sat in the metal chairs in the back. This adds a whole other level of chaos as I am trying to contain the running baby from zooming down the aisles and banging ever item in my purse loudly on the metal chair. A sweet lady came up to me afterwards and said, " You sure have your hands full" with a look of deep pity and like she wouldn't wish my situation on her worst enemy. But I just thought of the cliche " You think my hands are full, you should see my heart". They might be stinkers sometimes but they are MY stinkers.

I never claimed to be a perfect parent, you know who is a perfect parent? Someone without kids.  We all think we know best and our kids "will never do such and such" Then you have kids and all you chocolate covered ideals get blown to pieces with the first tantrum-in-the-middle-of-Walmart-for-no-reason-except-she's-2. But I think that's another reason you can't write down a Mom's job description. Because it's constantly changing and adapting to match your kids. And you are going to screw up...royally...at least a thousand times. But kids are amazing because they will love you anyways and might not even realize you messed up.  Because you are their perfect mom. I would be an awful Mom to Susie Q over there, but I am the perfect Mom for Alianna, Kendall, and Bryson. That's why the Lord made me their Mom and they are my kids. The Lord knows us and knows who we need and needs us.

The point I'm trying to make is that we all need to stop comparing ourselves to each other. We have different job descriptions. If you asked a banker to perform heart surgery, he couldn't. That's not his job. And your job is to be the best mom you can be for your kids today, the end. By the way, You are ROCKIN' it! Just the fact that you worry about it, proves you rock it.

 I keep thinking of one of my favorite quotes, it's by Albert Einstein: " Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." So don't worry about Susie Q or her mom. They are flying while you are swimming. And love on your fish the best way you can.

I can do hard things

I have been training for a marathon that is on September 13 in Utah. It should be beautiful there in September, but this means I have been waking up at o'dark early to get my long runs in before the sun melts my skin off this summer.  Besides the incredible peel-my-eyes-open-to-stay-awake tiredness, it was going really well. Until about a month ago.

I was doing a long run, I think it was supposed to be 15 miles. Long story, but I didn't have enough water and started getting dehydrated and my knee started really hurting so I didn't finish. I am SEVERELY competitive with myself ( Not others, I'm everyone else's cheerleader) so this was incredibly frustrating. But I figured I would just plan more accordingly and have more water stops next time.  But the more I ran, the more my knee hurt. I was in Utah for the 24th of July, and on a whim, decided to run the half marathon so I could get a good gauge of the severe downhill and elevation change for my marathon.  I was doing ok for the first 6-7 miles but then it really started hurting but I kept going. One of my mantras I tell myself when I run is " You can do hard things! You have given birth to 3 children, you can do this hard thing too." But by the last mile, I was noticeably limping and stopped to walk 3 times. Again, in my uber-competitive mind, walking is not allowed at all, much less 3 times in the last mile. The last time, I almost couldn't even start again, my knee was excruciatingly and didn't even want to move that way. 

So I went to my chiropractor friend and had him give me an adjustment and check it out. I had it worked up in my mind that he could give me an instant fix. Wrong-O! He felt around it and said there was swelling and fluid around my knee. He asked if I was dead set on the marathon because it really needed a break. Nope, that was not an option 5 weeks from the race and I was DOING the race. He let me borrow his foam roller and gave me exercises to do and said ( in a there-is-no-hope-for-you-but-I'll-try-to-reassure-you voice) " Ice is your best friend. "

So I ice-d the crap out of it every night and did the exercises that hurt like a mother.  I went for a run with my mother-in-law because we both needed to do a 16-18 miler in our training. 3 miles in it was painful. 4.5 miles in, I sent her on and walk/shuffle/jogged back the 4.5 home. That was last Saturday.

This Thursday I went to KT tape clinic that the local running store offered. I'd heard of this mystical KT tape that athletes used and thought " This is it self! This tape will solve all your problems and you will be a great runner again!" The physical therapists were awesome. I stayed after and had them feel my knee and show exactly how to tape it. As she felt it she said" That's not going to get better. It will probably get worse ( "wait WHat??? There's a worse then that!) if you continue to log long miles. The only way to heal it is a couple weeks rest. " As she saw my mutinous look, she said " Or at least no long runs for a couple weeks, nothing more that 3 miles". Also, they used diagram and showed me why it's hurting so much and it basically boils down to my butt isn't strong enough so I overcompensate and it pulls my IT band which is connected around my knee. So my crap butt is too weak.  This is apparently very common for long distance runners, that or the guy just felt bad for me and my sorry butt. He suggested I do lots to strengthen my butt (squats etc) but had the caveat that  " this won't really help you for the race, it's too soon for you to get strong enough in 4 weeks." Awesome.

So Friday morning I am taped up, took a preemptive ibuprofen, and was determined. I ran 7 miles and got back to the house to run another 9 with ArJay. After those first 7 by myself, I was in Agony. At mile 2 it hurt, but the tape helped a little. But I was limping by mile 7. I did OK for the first 2 with ArJay, but by the 3rd with him ( my 10th) I walked more then I ran. And limp walked at that. Another of my mantras is " Your body can go farther than your mind thinks it can". But the problem is, my body can't do it. My mind wants to, and my endurance and lung capacity can, but my knee can't. It is still aching right now and that was yesterday morning and I still have a bit of a limp. ArJay commented that he has never seen me walk once before that and gently suggested that maybe I shouldn't try to run a full marathon in less then 5 weeks.  My first thought was "HECK NO! that is not an option! I've been training for 3 months! Do you know how much sleep I've given up for this?" But by the 5th time I had to stop to walk, I started to see his point. When he pointed out that the physical therapist said it would get worse and I might injury myself seriously so I can't run at all for a long time, I realized that wasn't an option for me either. 

So this angsty-novel means, I'm not running a marathon in September. I will still do the half but that seems like a consolation prize when I've trained for the full. ArJay has been super supportive and pointed out that I can still do one, my dream isn't dying, just getting postponed.  I know it seems silly and pointless to some, but I really poured my heart into this, and it feels like I failed. I am a mass of emotions but one of the most prevalent emotions is embarrassment. I know myself well enough to know one of the biggest things I enjoyed about training for this was the shock and awe I got when telling people. I like surprising people. " Why yes I am a stay at home mom to 3 kids 5 and under and yes I can still run a marathon." Now it feels like I'm a wannabe who couldn't hack it when things got real. I feel like the scarlet Letter on my chest reads "Not a real runner". 

I have been sitting around in this surly teenager-whose-boyfriend-just-broke-up-with-her depression since I decided yesterday I wouldn't do the full. But I just had the epiphany that I was just being melodramatic.  What is my problem? If you get of the couch and go outside, you are a runner. I wrote a post about that very thing back here. And running a HALF marathon is not a consolation prize. If you had told 3 years ago Maggie she would be disappointed by that, I would have laughed at you and said I'd be happy to run 1 mile without stopping. But the biggest revelation is, my mantra is still true, and not just for running. It is all-encompassing for life. "You CAN do hard things!"  I think the trouble is sometimes the hard things aren't things.Sometimes it's realizing what you planned and what will actually happen aren't the same thing. So you learn to adjust your goals and deal with the setback. So that is my new goal. To focus on the positive ( Hey now I will be running the half with Arjay so we can have 2+ hours of uninterrupted talking during the race, how often does that happen with 3 small humans in the house?) and not giving up on the goal of running a marathon, just not now. 

Also Next time I will be more prepared, I'm looking at you weak butt! We are doing soo many squats...

A day in my life with 3 small hooligans, I mean children

ArJay took a significant pay cut to come to Highway Patrol. In the long run, it will be much better but right now things are a little tight. While we were brainstorming ways to supplement, he suggested I could substitute teach again. ( I subbed when we were first married while I finished my Elementary ed degree). I asked "What about the kids? What will they do all day?". He said, and I quote, " That's easy, just sub on my days off and I'll stay home with the kids." Isn't that adorable? Poor sweet naive man! Staying home with 3 children 5 and under is many things, easy is not one of them. Here's a typical day in my life:

5:30 am: Open my eyes to the 5 year old's face inches from mine as she creepily whispers "Mommy, Mom, Momma, mom." Without a word I open the covers and scoot over for her. Smelling my weakness, she asks if she can watch a show. She takes my grunt as a yes and quickly grabs my Kindle Fire and turns on Netflix. 

6:00 am: I hear the baby and can no longer feign sleep. 

6:10 am: The 3 year old is awake and calling from his room because we have knob handles specifically so the 3 year old can't escape himself. I ask the 5 year old to let him out while I start nursing the baby.

6:15 am: I put on Disney Channel for the older two to come out of their zombie first-wake-up-state while I nurse the baby.

6:45 am: Breakfast time. The 5 year old thinks she can make her own waffles and I have to run interference as she nearly drops the toaster on the baby's head while "doing it herself". I get the 3 year old some cereal that yesterday was, and I quote, "the best food ever". Today, apparently, it is vile and not fit for human consumption.

7:00 am: The 3 year old stands up with panic on his face and utters the 5 words that strike fear in every mom's heart: " I need to go potty!"

7:02 am: Despite my 100 yard dash carrying the 3 year old, I was too late and there is now a trail of pee on the floor to the bathroom. Also, it is on my leg. 

7:03 am: While the 3 year old washes his hands, I peek out and see the baby about to put a piece of cereal in his mouth that was sitting in the pee trail. Luckily, my dash is quick enough this time and I grab it just in time. The look he gives me is reminiscent of Cindy Lou Who as the Grinch steals her Christmas tree. " But Mother why? Why did you take my pee-soaked cereal before I could eat it?"

7:05 am: As I carry the baby to the bathroom to wash his hands, I realize he has had a blowout and it is EVERYWHERE, including on my shirt. So I toss both boys in the tub for the first bath of the day. 

7:40 am: As I get the boys out of the tub, I tell the 5 year old to get dressed and start picking her snack for preschool.

7:45 am: The 5 year old says she has "nothing to wear" 

7:50 am: I go and grab a shirt and skirt from the drawers so full of clothes they won't even close and hand them to her. These are unacceptable because they " don't look cute together"

8:00 am: We finally agree on an outfit that isn't too small, short, big, fancy, or "uncute". Meanwhile, the boys have been running around naked while I helped solve the fashion crisis.

8:10 am: The baby now has a diaper and the 3 year old has a shirt and undies on.

8:15 am: "Mom I'm hungry"

8:25 am: Start shuttling kids to the car to take the 5 year old to preschool which is just around the corner. The 5 year old has 75 shoes, but no matching pairs. "Where are the shoes you wore yesterday?" " I don't know."  "Where did you last see them?" "....On my feet?"

8:28 am: Found shoes, pulling out of the driveway.  " Mom I don't have a snack!" Stop car. Run in and grab first food related item found. Today, snack is a slice of white bread.

8:31 am: Pull into preschool. Notice 5 year old's hair looks like she's the lost member of Flock of Seagulls. Try flattening it with my own spit. Kiss and hug and she's gone.

8:32 am: She's back, forgot her snack, shoes, and backpack in the car.

8:35 am: Hurry home and put clothes on the boys ( The baby was just in a diaper and the 3 year old still just had a shirt and undies one when I dropped off the 5 year old)

8:45 am: Leave for playgroup. The playgroup's sole purpose is to pass time until naptime.

9:30 am: The baby, who is teething, has bitten every surface in your friend's house...and a couple people

9:55 am: The 3 year old, who was desperate to come, doesn't want to play with his friend anymore because his friend isn't giving him every SINGLE. TOY. HE. OWNS. His friend has the audacity to play with the truck after the 3 year old puts it down and walks away. I inform him we will have to leave if he doesn't play nice

9:56 am: They are miraculously best friends again.

11:00 am: In an effort to stave off tantrums, inform the 3 year old there are 5 minutes left until we are leaving.

11:05 am: Announce it's time to leave. Should have announced I run down puppies for the drama that ensues.

11:06 am: Drag wailing children to the car while yelling thanks to friend.

11:15 am: Pick up 5 year old from preschool. The boys have fallen asleep in the car. Score! Drama free naptime.

11:20 am: With the stealth of  a CIA operative, unload the baby and 3 year old to their beds.

11:21 am: 3 year old wakes up just as I lay him in his bed. Awesome.

11:25 am: Feeling magnanimous ( read: so tired I can't handle it) I ask if the older 2 would like to watch a show during quiet time. They immediately start shouting that "Jake is better than Mickey". " I want Sofia" "He ALWAYS gets to pick!"

11:30 am: Make what I feel is a fair deal that we can watch 3 year old's favorite show and then 5 year old's. 5 year old is shocked I would even suggest it because she "will have to wait one whole(20 minute) show until the one she likes."  Wars have started over smaller things then this affront to her.

11:40 am: Do what I should have done  from the start and announce it's "mom's turn to pick". Am informed I " pick the weirdest, worst shows ever" Inform said child they don't have to watch then. Shockingly, my choice is not so bad after all.

12:30 pm: Lunch time. The cereal that was vile this morning now appears the most delicious ever. Apparently the same bowl sitting all morning getting the milk moldy only enhances flavor. When I take the bowl away and inform him he can't eat it because it's gross and will make him sick, the 3 year old says it's " the ONLY thing [he] wants" and "I won't get sick, I'm superman".

1 pm: Lunch is over, I gently suggest they go play outside or in the playroom while I clean up ( read: just give me 15 minutes, PLEASE!)

2pm-4pm: Daddy( who works nights) is awake. He plays with kids while I finish cleaning the pee trail, wash the dishes, do a load of the soiled laundry, and maybe, if I'm lucky, pee by myself.

4:15 pm: Baby is awake and ready to nurse. 3 year old is ready to take flying leaps after yelling " Jetpack activated!" onto me while nursing.

4:45 pm: I leave for a quick run. Feel like I'm in the Hunger Games as I say bye to Daddy and wish him luck " May the odds be ever in your favor"

5:15 pm: Return from run and hear sounds like a cat being strangled, Rush inside.

5:16 pm: Happily, no strangled cats. All the children are STARVING though. Thus, the entire bag of cereal on the floor and loud declarations that they "NEED fruit snacks!" and "Can't WAIT for dinner!"

5:18 pm: Run through Mental Rolodex and decide Spaghetti will be a quick 10 minute prep meal.

5:25 pm: 5 year old NEEDS to do her homework

5:30 pm: 3 year old NEEDS his butt wiped

5:40 pm: Baby NEEDS food and is going postal at my feet until he gets it

6:00 pm: My 10 minute dinner is ready

6:20 pm: Baby throws spaghetti and it gets in his hair. 3 year old thinks this is so funny, he literally falls off his chair

6:30 pm: Look at children who look like they were involved in a bloody massacre. Consider a "drive-by" to Grandma's. Think to myself " Self, If we show up and she sees how dirty they are, she will probably offer to give them baths. I can feign innocence and graciously murmur 'I suppose so, if you really want to' ".

6:35 pm: Decide to man up and bath them myself

6:50 pm: Inexplicably, I ( the only one outside the tub) am more wet then the hooligans in it.

6:55 pm: Time to wash hair.  If you believe the 3 year old, This is the worst form of child abuse. He would seemingly rather have his toenails pulled out.

7 pm: Trying to herd 3 naked kids into pjs makes me feel like I am herding cats...into water.

7:10 pm: Nightly dance party! Let the wild Rumpus start

7:20 pm: Naturally, the 3 year old got too dizzy and took out the 5 year old, the baby, and a side table. But the lamp is ok!

7:30 pm: Kisses and Hugs for Daddy as he leaves for work. I announce it is time to brush teeth. The 3 year old knows incarceration ( aka bedtime) is nigh and tries to explain why it can't possibly be time to brush teeth.

7:40 pm: Teeth are brushed and kids are in their rooms. Now hostage negotiations begin

7:41 pm: "One more story Mom"

7:42 pm: "I'm thirsty Mom."

7:43 pm: "I want the blue cup Mom"

7:44 pm: "I'm cold, can you fix my blanket?"

7:45 pm: "I'm hot now, can you turn on the fan?"

7:46 pm: "Can I have my Rapunzel doll?"

7:47 pm: "Not the hard doll, the soft one."

7:48 pm: "And the Barbie Rapunzel." ( How MANY Rapunzel's does one child need??I'm cutting off the grandparents and all their gifts, the madness has to stop!)

7:49 pm: "Can you sing my song ONE more time?"

7:50 pm: " ONE more kiss and hug?" ( This is their trump card. They know I will cut them off with the rest, but I will not deny hugs and kisses)

8 pm: Hostage Negotiations are over, I have stopped answering the siren call of "mom?" and they are not allowed to leave their rooms.

8:15 pm: While nursing the baby to sleep, he gets a second wind and thinks it's party time

9 pm: Baby finally in bed, I sit down to read a little. Fall asleep sitting up with the light on, only made it to page 3.

The ridiculous part? When ArJay suggested I give this up for just 1 day a week to sub, I scoffed. I can't imagine a job I would rather do everyday. Either I have amazing kids, or there is something seriously wrong with me. Don't judge, Too much Mickey Mouse will make anyone a little screwy....

I Dislike Mother's Day

Ok I need to be perfectly clear here, I am not bitter or angry or hate being a mom and abhor the very reminder of  the fact that I am a mother. In fact, I love my three children with wild abandon and count them as my greatest accomplishments and blessings in life. Likewise, I do not have some horrific tale of horrible mother figures who did me wrong. I have an incredible loving mother who I can only hope to emulate and have been blessed with countless amazing mother figures as examples throughout my life.

So why ya gotta hate on Mother's Day Magdelyn?

Glad you asked. You see, I have had some very close friends and family who have a very hard time with Mother's Day. They all had different reasons, whether they lost their own mothers, lost a child, had infertility issues, or were still single and desperately wanted to be married with children. But the end result is the same for all of them, Mother's day is an embarrassing, awkward, heart-wrenching reminder of how different they are. I have sat with a friend and cried with her as she  poured her heart out about how inferior she feels and she doesn't even go to church on Mother's Day and tries to pretend it doesn't exist. So, although I love and appreciate all the sweet Facebook posts of "Happy Mother's day to all the moms I know!" I also cringe for my friend.

I also don't like the 'pressure ' of Mother's Day, like it is supposed to be awesome and all about me and my awesome-ness. It's probably because I am a pretty competitive person, but I often judge my Mother's day against others and feel I fall drastically short. As I read the sweet Facebook post so-and-so writes about how his wife is the best mother ever and he's so lucky and small birds braid her hair every morning since she's obviously as perfect as a cartoon princess etc etc I smile at the utter sweetness. Then I think Wait! My husband didn't write a short novel about how wonderful I am! Does he not adore me or appreciate me like so and so? I also love to hear how cute husbands and kids let the mom sleep in and make her breakfast and homemade cards. I can picture it like a Hallmark card commercial. Oh wait what did I get this morning? My husband accidentally waking up the baby at 4:30 am as he leaves for work and a child who didn't sleep well so everyone is cranky and tired and it's not even 7 am. I would kill just to sleep in and have my children dressed for church without world war 3 breaking out, forget breakfast or homemade cards. Sometimes, I feel quite inferior on Mother's day too.

Suffice it to say, when they announced that all the women would be meeting for a special meeting today, I did not have a cheerful disposition about it. I didn't want to leave my Beehives( 12-13 year old girls) I teach who think I'm awesome to go hear about mothers who truly are awesome and remarkable and feel like a failure. But, as often happens to me and my stubborn self, I was humbled by the amazing talks. They didn't talk about Mothers or how to do a + b to be a perfect mom. I don't think they even talked about being a mom. They talked about women and how amazing and unique we are. They talked about how we all have an influence over everyone we come in contact with and if we listen to the Lord we can know how we can best influence others. And we will all influence each other differently because we ALL are different. And that's a beautiful thing. But I think the most profound thing I heard was that we need to be patient with ourselves. We are all so endlessly patient and forgiving of others shortcomings but so hard on ourselves. We aren't fair to ourselves. We women are incredible and capable of so much more then we give ourselves credit for.

So I might come around to the idea of Mother's day. But, I submit that we change the name to "Women Are Awesome" day or "Women Rule The World" or "Love Yourselves Silly Women!" Day. They all work for me and are really the crux of what this day means to me.  It is not about if you are a mom, will never be a Mom, or even what kind of mom you are. It is about appreciating the woman you are today because of your life experiences to this point and the one you can continue to become.

Also, I think there should be at LEAST a monthly " Women Rock" day. Once a year? Really? Haven't you heard how fabulous we are, that needs to be celebrated more.

What NOT to Do when trying to Impress a Girl

I was talking with a friend about my Love Story that I recently posted. Somehow, this turned into a discussion of a few of the crazy dating mishaps I had. It amazes me some of the stuff guys did that they acted like they were totally impressing me. Did they really think so? I kind of hope not. Just in case,based on my real dating experiences, here is a funny list of 10 things(in no particular order) not to do to impress a girl. I would like it noted that these are NOT all the same guy ( yikes that would be horrid!).But, to protect the innocent, from here on out they all will be referred to as "The Boy".

10. Do NOT invite a short girl on a nice dress-up date and show up in a huge truck. Bonus points if you Don't help her in said truck. Seriously, the floorboard came to my chest and I have heels and a tight skirt on.  The Boy walks around to his side and says" Are you coming?" OK then, I guess I'll figure this out myself.  I proceed to do a pull-up onto the floorboard and full body shimmy/wiggle up into my seat. Dude, help a girl out. Or at least warn her about said truck so she can wear her hiking boots.

9. Do NOT walk up to a girl when she is clearly on a date with someone else and ask " Is the date over yet?".We barely stepped out of the car, he hasn't even walked me to the door yet, and we are holding hands. Clearly the date is not, in fact, "over yet". Either get your eyes checked or buy some good running shoes because The Other Boy ( the one I'm still on a date with) does not appreciate it.

8. Do NOT take a blind date to a haunted house in hopes of getting to make out. I just meet you 5 minutes ago and I am freaked out of my mind; what part of that leaves me feeling amorous? In fact, there is a misconception to take girls to scary movies and they will make out with you. This is false information. If you want a girl to get romantic, take her to a chick flick. It's still no guarantee that she will kiss you, but you are less likely to get hit by flailing limbs or have your eardrums pierced by girly screams.

7. IF a girl tells you she just doesn't like you "Like that", do NOT suggest she make out with you so you can "prove her wrong". Seriously dude, I was just trying to let you down easy. Now I am kinda grossed out and might not even want to be your friend. Especially if you keep bringing it up and I wake up to have you staring at me in my room that one time. Now you are creepy + a little desperate, not a look you should aspire to.

6. Do NOT be a lurker. I'm talking to you guy-who-stands-in-the-corner-of-the-dorm-common-room-just-waiting-for-girl-to-come-out-of-her-room. Honestly if she wants to see you, she will make time to see you. If you keep accosting her every time she steps out her door, she's going to feel trapped in her room and kick out the screen of her first floor window to escape ( True story)

5. Do NOT Propose, or even hint at marriage 5 minutes after meeting the girl. Um, HI. We literally just started playing pool 10 minutes ago. I'm not sure we are ready to start discussing how many children we might want and if we should get married in July or wait for the fall. Life is not a Disney movie, they have to get married in 5 minutes to wrap up a story in a hour and a half. We do not.

4.  Do NOT tell a girl you speak French when you really don't. She will ask you to say something in French. And when all you keep saying is " Chicken Cordon Blue" "French Fries" and "Oui Oui" in a fake accent for 10 minutes straight, you are not really fooling anyone. Also, you might or might not now live on in infamy to anyone who heard, not by your name, but as "Frenchie".

3. Do NOT decide you are bored with a girl and try to IMMEDIATELY move on with her best friend...and roommate. The Boy is walking me in from our date after we had a talk and decided it wasn't working out. There is a group of people sitting in the living room including my roommate. He walks up to her and asks her out. Master of Subtlety.

2. Do NOT ask a girl to dinner and tell her she can have ANYTHING she wants...as long as it's under $4...and you might have to share...and we can only drink water. I am all for free dates, sometimes they are the best ones. But plan ahead man! Don't ask a girl to dinner if you can't afford it. Do something fun and free! You are just making it worse when you keep saying " Whatever m'lady desires she can have....as long as it's under $4.... And not chicken because we need to share and I don't like Chicken.... maybe we can get some pasta and do the Lady and the Tramp thing with the noodles( Um HECK NO!).....And maybe we can tell them it's our birthday for a free dessert."

1. Do NOT make any animal noises at a girl to get her attention...EVER! I am not talking about the annoying wolf whistles or horrible cow mooing, that should be obvious ( then again, I am making this list so maybe it's not). I am at a dance and apparently not paying enough attention to THE Boy. The Song  " Who Let the Dogs Out" comes on. He LITERALLY gets down on all fours and starts barking at me. Lucky for me, "What does the Fox say" was still years from existence.

You can't make this crap up. So, as a general rule, stop all the stunts and just be yourself. Fair warning, if you are going to do something crazy, you will probably be mentioned in stoires as examples of what not to do. Just sayin..

Our Love Story Part VIII: The Last First Kiss

This is the final installment. IF you want the whole story start at the beginning:
Part I: First Meetings
Part II: Let's Just be Friends
Part III: First Date
Part IV: Let's Just Be Friends (Again)
Part V: Since You Went Away
Part VI: The Second First Date
Part VII: The Engagement


I wake up at 4am and just lie in bed. It is Friday December 15th, 2006 and I am getting married tomorrow. I am anxious, excited, giddy, nervous, and not sure what else to think. I also know it will be a whirlwind two days so I take a minute to breath. Half an hour later, my parents and brother wake up and we drive from Thatcher to Mesa so I can go take out my endowments at the temple.

"Happy Birthday Mom."

"This is the best birthday present, to escort you to the temple. "

We arrive at temple and it is so peaceful. I have arrived earlier then everyone else so I get to spend a few minutes with just my mom in the quiet peace of the temple in the early morning.  A little later, we walk into the endowment room and I see ArJay across the aisle and can't help my big goofy grin checking out the stud I will be sealed to forever tomorrow in his white suit. Some people say they are confused, overwhelmed, and lost the first time they go to the temple. I am not. It all makes soo much sense to me and there is such a sense of peace. In fact, I'm a little let down that I am NOT overwhelmed or receive some giant epiphany( if that makes any sense).

But then, I walk into the Celestial Room and catch a glimpse of heaven. All of my family is already there waiting for me. Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, parents, ArJay's family. They are all hugging me and I can't see for the tears when ArJay comes up and wraps me in his arms. This is heaven.

As soon as we all walk out of the temple, we break in 20 different directions. ArJay and his family immediately head back to Tucson to get his house ready for our open house that night. I go to lunch with my parents and some of my family who came. It is loud and rambunctious and fun and I'm soo excited to share this weekend with so many family and friends. Then we head down for the open house.

The open house is CRAZY!! I didn't realize how many friends the Gamble's have until the open house. We sit in the front room of their house and literally hundreds of people come to meet us ( or really me since they all know ArJay). Even though we are standing next to each other, we don't talk to each other for nearly 3 hours as there is a line out the door to meet us. It is overwhelming and amazing that so many people are here to support us. But honestly, after a while I want them all to go so I can spend time with ArJay. Finally at about 10pm, my friend Amber sneaks us some food and we are able to sit and talk for a minute. But it is already time to go since my hotel is back in Mesa. He walks me to the car and I get one last sweet kiss.

" Goodnight Ms. Weir. See you tomorrow Mrs. Gamble"

I fall asleep in the car smiling at that sweet sentiment and the amazing today that seems like it was a year long.

Oh man there was SOO much food. this is teh end of the night, after it was picked over

That's Cade ( the guy who had his homecoming when ArJay had is farewell talk) and his cute Wife Summer and their baby Sky

I wake up at 6 am. Today is my wedding day, I can't keep in the squeal of excitement. My dad hears me and we decide to go get breakfast. I hear you never get to eat on your wedding day, and after last night's open house, I am on a mission to eat as much as I can while I can so I go hunt out breakfast before my hair girl gets here.  I see some of my cousins in the pool and they invite us to join.

" I can't, didn't you hear? I'm getting married today."

My hair and makeup girl shows up and I spend the next couple of hours being transformed into a princess as my best friends Amber, Sarah, and Desiree all show up and we girl talk and giggle. I am just about finished and my phone rings. The caller Id says ArJay.

"Isn't this bad luck or something to talk to me right now?"

"Um...I might be late"

"What? How can you be late, haven't you left yet?"

"Well yeah, but we had to stop at the mall."

".Ok,... why exactly?"

" See I was holding Trevor( his 1 year old down syndrome nephew) and he kind of had a blow out all over my suit pants so we had to stop and get more"

I can't hear what else he says because I am laughing too hard

"You're not mad? I'm trying to get there as fast as I can!"

" No I'm not mad, that's hilarious. If you don't get here in time we'll just do the pictures after."
(We were planning to take our pictures before the wedding so everybody wouldn't have to sit around and wait for 2 hours after the wedding while we take pictures)

I get off the phone and explain what happened.

" So I guess I have a little time to kill. Let's go eat" ( Remember I was very concerned about getting enough food. Priorities people)

So Amber, Sarah, Desiree, and I go and have a very classy lunch at Subway. Well, I am very classy in my full makeup and updo complete with tiara ( Don't judge! When else can a grown woman wear a tiara in life?) and beautiful veil that ArJay's sister Lacey made for me.

That;'s Desiree. We have been friends since we were 15

Man we are classy

We get back to the hotel and I get zipped into my dress and admire myself in the mirror. It's is a very simple dress of white satin with a square neck and poofy skirt. The only embellishment is a rhinestone belt buckle on a drop waist. It was the first wedding dress I tried on. When the dress assistant showed it to my on the hanger, I thought it was hideous and gaudy. But I didn't know what I wanted except no big long train ( as klutzy as I am, that would be begging for some dramatic dress-tearing or tripping incident) so I thought I'd try it. When I put it on, it just worked. I felt classy and sophisticated and timeless. Adjectives I try, but rarely if ever, succeed to aspire to in my life.

Then I heard a murmur of "he's here" and the butterflies explode in my stomach. I am not nervous just full of giddy excitement that he is FINALLY here and we can go. But they want to get a picture of the first time we see each other so I grumble under my breath waiting for everyone to get set. As I turn the corner and see his face I am glad they captured the moment on camera.

We ditch everyone for the quick drive over to the temple. ArJay keeps apologizing for almost being late to our wedding.

" As long as you weren't trying to sneak out on me, it's ok."

ArJay's mom is at the temple with my bouquet. I have not been a fussy bride. I picked red and black as colors because they said I HAD to pick some colors. We had an open house the night before so we wouldn't have to have a huge reception and bother everyone with a lot of hoopla on the wedding day ( I think this really bugged his mom, because she still ended up having a dinner thing after the wedding at a church right by the temple). I didn't have "bridesmaids" or bridesmaids dresses but told my girlfriends to wear what they wanted in our colors so we could take a picture together. So when asked about my bouquet, I said, " I don't know... just some red roses". So I see this big bouquet of red and white roses and weird pink baby's breath things tied in a black ribbon and liberally sprinkled with GOLD GLITTER( it was the gold glitter that did it) and I lost it.

" That's ALL wrong!" I wail.

ArJay is understandably confused considering how laid back I have been" I thought you didn't care?"

" I don't, but that's not right."

He just shakes his head at me like the silly little girl I am " Do we need a new one?"

" NO, of course not. That is ridiculous, I'm just going to have it for pictures anyways."

We meet our photographer and he starts snapping pictures. ArJay HATES pictures, like the fiery passion of a thousand suns hate. But today, he is looking at me like every girl wants a man to look at her.He pulls me to him and whispers

"I'm sorry about the flowers, but no one could possibly be looking at them when they see today you anyways. "

The offensive gold glitter has been shaken off but you can still see the random pink baby's breath things

 We can't stop kissing and touching and, yes, laughing through the pictures. ArJay hams it up and I could honestly spend the whole day out here goofing off with him taking pictures. I even make a joke that I will just have to photoshop his face from these pictures into all future family photos.

" It's true because I can't imagine ever being as happy as right now."

(Mostly) everyone who was there

I totally wore white tennis shoes, that was a lot of walking! I wanted to be comfy

Arjay's cousin Cami, ArJay, and his sister Candice

ArJay's Sisters Lacey and Candice

My Dad and ArJay

My brother Mitch

This was totally ArJay's idea. He said I was Eve tempting him with the fruit

We are so refined and classy

It is finally time to go in. I get changed out of my fancy dress into a different white dress in the beautiful bridal room with my mom, take three deep breaths and go meet him in the sealing room. It is just ArJay and the sealer and I in the room. He talks to us for a few minutes. I'm honestly not really listening to him as ArJay is rubbing circles in my hand. I keep thinking Cool dude. We get it, we'll take care of each other forever. Let's get this show on the road! Bring in the family.

Finally He escorts us down the hall into the sealing room. The room is packed with our dearest family and friends and I am already crying. The sealer has us sit on a little two person chair and quizzes ArJay on important points about marriage from the Proclamation to the World. Poor ArJay looks dumbfounded and looks to me for the answer. Everyone laughs as the sealer says:

"Smart man, already looking to his wife when he doesn't have a clue."

Now we are kneeling across from each other. ArJay's face is blurring at the edges as the tears spill down my cheeks. There are mirrors behind each of us and I can see our reflections going on forever and can't believe how blessed I am to get to be forever with this perfectly imperfect man who happens to be my best friend. He leans over the altar for one more perfect first kiss.

Married!

This is obviously post the wedding because my eyes are all bloodshot from crying

*swoon*