Beautimus and Wretchimus

It was an interesting misconception I had that 'all mirrors are created equally'...that, when given an image to reflect, each one would display the same features. So, imagine my confusion when I would get myself wonderfully presentable in my bathroom mirror (nicknamed Beautimus) only to find that minutes later, a glance in the hall bathroom mirror (nicknamed Wretchimus) showed me that I looked fairly awful. Over the past few weeks I have conducted tests and conclude that this is a consistent finding. My mirrors have developed opposite personalities. My theories on 'how' this phenomonon came to be still have yet to be proven (though it couldn't be due to the fact that Wretchimus has more than three times the amount of light hanging over her than Beautimus).

Over the weeks I have come to a sort of agreement with these mirrors. Whenever I need a sort of 'pick-me-up', I will glance into Beautimus. She will unfailingly show me all of my best features and make me feel lovely and confident - even with bed-head and old mascara smeared under my eyes. Whenever I feel like I really need to look nice in the light of day, I will study my face in Wrechimus. She will undeniably highlight my worst features and scold me when I need more cover-up, a closer pluck job, or anti-wrinkle cream.

So, if ever you see me looking exceptionally awful, yet unfoundingly confident, you can place your bet that I got ready surrounded by the loving words of Beautimus. Conversely, if you ever see me with too many layers of cover-up and red, swollen eyebrows, you can be sure that the advice I was receiving that morning was from Wretchimus.

What is the DEAL?!

I think there's a law in my life that says something like, "No matter how much preparation you do the night before for a scheduled event, you will still always be late."

I am not what you would call a prompt person (though, I must say that I'm usually not the latest person). My internal clock seems to run about 5 minutes behind whatever any wall clock says. So much that I generally feel on-time when I'm 5 minutes late...when I'm right on time, I feel early...and when I'm early, I feel weird. Today was no exception. I knew it would be difficult to get us all out the door by 8:40 for McKenzie's first day of preschool (mainly due to the single fact that it takes about 35 minutes for McKenzie to eat her breakfast...honestly!), so I set out all of our clothes the night before, packed our bags, and laid out McKenzie's hair stuff. I planned to be out the door by 8:30 to give myself a cushion of 10 minutes...but we unavoidably left at 8:52. Does anyone else have this problem?! I plan, I'm prepared, I'm anticipating the possibility of lateness...and still - it happens.

I was not only late dropping her off...but I was a little late in picking her up as well. To make matters worse, we'd forgotten half of the things she was supposed to take to school with her (mainly because I couldn't find the list that was mailed to us weeks ago), AND I'd even sent her at the WRONG TIME. Half of the class was supposed to be there from 9-10, and the other half of the class was supposed to be there from 10:30-11:30. Evidently, McKenzie was supposed to be in the latter group. It wasn't a huge deal...her teacher said that McKenzie did well fitting in with all of the other children - but I still felt like a shoe.

Oy veh! I sure hope this teacher isn't going to be judging me on a first-time impression...because I have seriously left her lacking! Poor Kenz - hopefully she'll feel nothing of my negligence.

I guess all I can do is try harder next time - be prompt, be prepared with everything she needs, and, for HEAVEN'S SAKE be correct on the time!

Let's Go Devils! (clap, clap, clap-clap-clap)

Brian thought it fitting to wear Duke attire and a Michigan hat because Michigan happened to be playing the Utah Utes at the same time...and since the Utah and BYU are major rivals, he felt he wanted to show his support for his home team

I haven't really been excited about football ever since we moved here to North Carolina. Looking at Duke's football team records might give you an indication why...(if I remember correctly, last year they won ONE game, and this year they're picked to win THREE!). But this year, as I've caught little whispers of fall, I've started to feel a little longing for the football that used to be such a fun part of my fall season. Growing up, the turning leaves and crisp air always meant the beginning of football season in our house. For as long as I can remember, my dad has always cheered and yelled for the BYU cougars. Even as a very young child, it was always easy to know when football season had started...my parents would tuck me into bed with hugs and kisses and then, sometimes, I'd feel the floorboards of our house start to rattle with stomping feet and angry yells, loud claps and triumphant cheers as my dad watched the game.

When I was about 12 or 13, he started taking me along to the home games. For the first couple of years, I spent game-time watching the cheerleaders, listening to the band, eating nachos and ice cream, and asking, "What? What happened?! Dad! What happened!?" whenever everyone erupted in cheers or boos. I'm sure he was mildly annoyed with me at times. :) But as I got older, I started to really enjoy watching the game, learning the signs to the calls the refs would make, following the plays and cheering at the right times without prompting. Through the years, I remember sitting there next to my dad - halfway wishing he would participate in the cheers and the wave when it came by, halfway relieved that he wasn't embarrassing me, always thrilled when he turned to me to give me a high five, proud when he taught me the rules in a 'grown-up' voice, grateful that he bought me nachos and ice cream, excited that he'd let me hold the binoculars for most of the game, and feeling so important and loved that my dad would choose me to spend those four hours with (even though he did it for all of us kids).

By the time I became a Cougar myself, I was ecstatic that I held my own set of season tickets - and as I dressed all in blue, pulled my hair back in blue ribbons, painted a 'Y' on my cheek and headed out the door with my friends, I found myself more excited for the game itself than the social interactions that surrounded it. My dad taught me to love football...and I guess it kind of stuck.

But, why are we talking about the BYU Cougars? I guess I got sidetracked in some memories there... Back to the Duke BlueDevils! (Doesn't have the same ring to it, does it...) As I mentioned before, I was feeling a little longing - I guess for all of these feelings that I've just shared - so when my friend, Janet Gammage, mentioned that she was going to the Duke football game, I jumped on the chance to invite myself along. :)

McKenzie and Leo watching the team warm up

We got their early to enjoy some fluorescent pink hot dogs, socialize a little, and grab our seats (which were AWESOME - 5 rows up on the 40 yard line!) Kick-off time was scheduled to be at 7:00, and at 6:45 the band came in to start off the pre-game festivities. It was fun to hear them play the Duke fight song...but it was completely unfamiliar to me and I just wanted to scream, "Rise and Shout, the Cougars are out!" Somehow, I felt that would be inappropriate though...so I refrained. It was drizzling and, upon seeing lightning, the officials decided to put the game on a 'weather delay'. The Gammages decided it would be best for them if they headed out, but Brian and I wanted to stick around for a while to see if it cleared up. It rained hard for a little while, but the kids were SO, SO great! The kids entertained themselves with the camera, food, my glasses, climbing up and down the bleachers, and just about anything else they could think of...and they LOVED it!

Finally, after about an hour and a half of waiting, the Blue Devils came running out of the tunnel, warmed up again, and kicked off the ball. It was so fun to see my kids enjoying the night as much as I was! Duke did great and ended up winning - though we only stuck around through half-time. (We figured 10:00pm was late enough for the kids to be out!)

Well, I sure miss college sometimes - and right now I miss Cougar football. I miss the loyal fans, I miss the beautiful mountinous backdrop, I miss huddling in blankets with hot chocolate as snow fell around me, I miss shouting the fight song after every scored point, I miss sitting with my dad, I miss walking to the game with my friends, I miss the blue eye-shadow and the white painted "Y" on my cheek...I miss the excitement, I guess. Watching Duke play was fun - and I'm so glad I got to have a small taste of my craving...but I guess nothing can compare to the lifetime loyalty I feel towards BYU.

Go Cougars! Errr....I mean, Let's Go Devils!

Stirring the Pot of Memories

I think it's fascinating that everything we experience in life is stored in our memories. Everything we touch, everything we smell, everything we laugh about and cry about and love. Everything we see and everything we do. Everything we scoff about and rave about and joke about and feel. Every experience tucked away into the folds of our minds to recall or to forget. I think it's fascinating because, every once in a while, something happens in my life that pulls a forgotten memory to the present. And, depending on the memory, it is there once again for me to think about, smile about, laugh about, cry about, or try to forget once more.

Last night, after tucking my kids into bed, I heard them laughing and playing for about an hour before all was silent. When I went in to check on them before going to bed myself, I saw this beautiful picture that poured in some very welcome nighttime memories from about 22 years ago when I was McKenzie's age, and my sister, Michelle, was just a little older than Carson. We shared a room then, too, and every night we'd play 'quietly' so our parents wouldn't know we were awake. My favorite game was lovingly termed 'sandwich' - where we'd throw all pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals on each other to make ourselves into ... well ... sandwiches. When we'd had enough sandwiches, we'd sneak out of the room and sit in the loft to watch my parents - oh, we were sneaky! We never could figure out how they knew we were sitting there without even turning their heads. They would just very calmly and sternly say, "Lindseeeee, Micheeeeeelle, get back in bed." One night, there was a spider crawling up the wall at the head of my bed. I freaked out, but Michelle said (in her adorable lisp), "Don't wuhwey Winsey, I'w be bwave!" and smashed that spider into the wall using her bare hand! Oh, but we were quiet. It's pretty easy to be quiet while you're ripping off all your bedding and throwing it on each other, opening the door and sneaking into the loft area, and hitting the walls. Funny though, my parents always seemed to find out somehow...

I know we must have been quieter than my kids are now - surely the floorboards didn't rattle quite so loudly when we jumped off of our beds. Surely the walls were thicker when we were giggling. Surely the door we opened was perfectly squeakless. Surely we breathed a little quieter while we were spying on our parents. And we surely didn't whisper when we were only feet away from our parents ears!

I'm so glad I let them play last night instead of breaking up the party. They fell asleep at a reasonable time anyway, and hopefully they'll look back on this time in their lives with as much fondness as I do on my own early life. Thanks Mom and Dad, for letting us kids be kids.

I LOVE YOU MICHELLE!!!

My Best Buddy

I'm in love. I'm so in love! I'm in love with so many things right now in my life...and this little kid just about breaks my heart with that love every time I look at him! The love I have for him is so all-consuming that I just can't help but smother him in hugs and kisses numerous times a day. Just thinking about him now has brought a big, goofy grin to my face! There have been so many times, especially lately, where the adoration has been so strong and intense that my body can't hold it all in, and I find my throat tense and my eyes brimming with a little liquid love.

Two years ago, this sweet little baby entered into my life and brought with him so much light and happiness. Sounds cliche, yes, but it's so, so true!

His birthday started out with a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday" performed by two groggy parents and a very confused sister.
"Mom?" Kenzie asked after we had finished our song, "Is Carson two?"
"Yes he is!" I replied. Noting her confusion (and being confused by it myself, as we had talked of little else for days before), I asked, "Why?"
"Well...(long pause as her eyes scanned over him)...he still looks one."
After she got over her disappointment, the rest of the morning was filled with lots of laughter, many gifts opened throughout the day (thanks to grandparents!), and hours of playing. He took a great afternoon nap, and then we all hopped into the car to play on the big toys at the mall. After the mall, we came back home, opened the rest of his presents, and broke out the cake.

None of us really like cake (including Kenzie and Carson), so I bought a box of ice cream sandwiches, cut and stacked them, covered them with whipped cream colored with food coloring, and topped it with candy. Seriously, the EASIEST 'cake' I've ever made! You should try it!



Anyway, here are a few pictures of the big day. Happy Birthday, my love!

Starting to Cross the LONG Finish Line

I'm getting to the point now where I'm starting to actually finish decorating some of the rooms in our new house. We've started on most of them...but we now have TWO rooms (out of 12) that are completely done. And, since I know you are all hanging off the edge of your seats waiting for pictures, I will comply. :) You saw the pictures of the bathroom already... And now, presenting:

Dining Room Before - note the stunning coordination of the wallpaper and curtains...yes, they're the exact same print...










Dining Room After - note the stunning look of the stained dining table and corner table. Thank you, thank you.

Now, try to relax and don't let your intense desire to see the rest of our house take over your daily responsibilities. We'll get to those pictures soon enough. :)

A New Phase of Life

I love it when my own kids surprise me...when they do or say something that makes me turn my head towards them and blink a couple of times. Something that takes me off-guard, and maybe even makes me laugh or smile. McKenzie has entered into a completely new phase of life that has surprised me in it's entirety. The phase of Daring.

From birth McKenzie has been alert, observant, sharp, a little shy, and careful, careful, careful. I knew that I could find McKenzie far away from anything that even whispered of danger. She was scared to jump off a curb, sit on the edge of a pool, ride her bike (even with training wheels), climb on anything that was taller than she...and she never even attempted to climb out of her crib. She was fun to watch at a park because that's all I had to do: watch. I never had to intervene...she never got too close to a dangerous edge, never climbed too high to get herself down, never wanted to wander away from my sight.

And now - now the tides have changed. Every time I turn around, she's leaping off of something. And the higher, the better. Chairs, stools, tables, stairs, beds, cribs, changing tables, apple trees... She'll mark her landing and try over and over and over again to beat the last jump. It's interesting, though, that she doesn't seem to be doing it for the thrill of it - she seems to be doing it for the pure purpose of proving that she can. The picture above captures, I feel, the entirety of this new phase. Notice her facial expression...no smile, just a look of pure concentration and confidence.

Who is this girl? Who will she grow up to be? What will her strengths be? And, what about her weaknesses? What role do I play - how much is set in her little soul?

There are so many things I have taught her - and so many things I have yet to teach. But, what gets me the most, is how much she has taught herself. I hope I can guide her through her life to be a strong thinker, and a deep feeler. I hope she will grow to love the gospel of Jesus Christ as much as I do. I hope she will always feel free and encouraged to question what she hears from us and others, and I hope I can teach her how to feel the guidance of our Heavenly Father as she seeks for her own answers and, ultimately, teaches herself how to live up to the great potential that she has.

I love it when my own kids surprise me...when they do or say something that makes me turn my head towards them and blink a couple of times. Something that takes me off-guard, and maybe even makes me laugh or smile.

Because, usually, it means they've learned something new...on their own.