Brotherly Love

 When I was in Young Women's, a story was shared about a brother and sister to illustrate the importance of making good choices.  In the story, the brother lived a wild life and justified his actions with the statement, "I'm only hurting myself!"  Later, his sister was diagnosed with cancer and needed a bone marrow transplant.  He was a match, but wasn't able to donate because his blood wasn't clean.

Anyone else remember that little story?  I actually hated it because it seemed overly dramatic, a little staged for teaching purposes, and so dismal.  I hated thinking of the brother wracked with guilt as he watched his sister die.  

But, I've been thinking of that story today.  My dad's older sister was diagnosed with leukemia a few months ago.  She needed a transplant and after testing, they found out my dad was a match.  We feel so blessed that they are a match and I love that Heavenly Father sent those two little babies to earth so long ago with matching marrow so that it is possible for the transplant to take place today. 

It's a long, rough road to recovery, but today, I've been so grateful that my dad has lived a life that allows him to be her donor and that she has lived a healthy life that puts her in a better situation to try and recover from it.  He's much older than they typical donor and far outside the age limit for donors on the national list.  They make exceptions for family member matches.  His own health was closely examined before they approved him to be a match.  It's given me new appreciation for that story I heard so many years ago, but if I ever have to teach that lesson, I think I'll tell the kids about my dad and his big sister and the happy side of obedience to commandments and living a clean life. 

When they were little kids, my dad loved baseball.  She, on the other hand, did not.  As he tells it, she could never hit the ball, so one time, he told her he'd give her a million dollars if she hit the next pitch.  You guessed it - she hit it.  Through the years, they've often joked about when he was going to pay her that million dollars.  He never has, but I think this seems like a fair trade. 

Things I Miss #18: Girls Camp

If we got to choose our church callings, there are two I would rotate between:  Primary Pianist (because you can just sit behind the piano and laugh at the cute things the kids say and not really even have to prepare anything) and Girls Camp Director.  I loved Girls Camp growing up.  I still remember the night before my first camp at Willow Flats.  I did not sleep for a single minute that night, but still showed up to the church parking lot bright eyed and bushy tailed the next morning.

In our ward, Girls Camp was serious business.  We camped.  In tents that we pitched ourselves.  And with outhouses that made me dry heave.  And campfires whose wood we split (well, we at least watched She-Ra Summer split the wood).  And we didn't shower for 3 or 4 days (but sometimes we shaved our legs in the river or the water tap).

In my ward today, they usually stay in cabins or condos and it seems bit pampered.  We had a big fundraiser last week because their camp this year cost $600 more than camp usually costs them, which made me wonder if they are headed to California or something because that brings the total cost of Girls Camp to well over $1000 for not that many girls.  I am certain our budget was miniscule in comparison. 

But enough complaining about how soft Girls Camp has become.  Girls Camp was the highlight of my summer.  We had such a good time with each other.  Here are some of my memories:

-Doing the Nestea Plunge at Willow Flats.  That was cold.

-The rain year.  One year at Stake Camp, it poured and poured.  By the last day, all of the wards except us stalwart girls in Newton 1st had gone home.  Our stake leaders were so proud and had a special breakfast for us.  It was a lot of rain.  We sang "Noah's Ark" 1 million times that year.

-How mad we were the year we had to go to Smithfield Canyon for camp since it was all of 8 miles away (and the boys in our ward were headed to Lake Powell).  Camp was still fun though...

-Campfire sing-a-longs.  In our ward, they were epic.  Some of our favorites were "Princess Pat," "Fried Ham," and of course, "Noah's Ark."

-The dreaded camp craft.  Do they still do those?  Ours were pretty terrible and mostly a big joke among the girls.  Maybe our leaders just weren't that crafty.  One exception is that I still have my wildflower press that we made one year at Stake Camp.

-The Clarkston girls always got sent home.  Not the whole ward, but it wasn't Stake Camp without someone in Clarkston trying to sneak boys or alcohol or something into camp and getting sent home.  I bet their ward had to call someone as the sent-home-girl-retriever every year so they had someone available to pick up those girls.  It wasn't really even scandalous after the first time or two because it was so predictable.

I can't wait for my little girls to head to Girls Camp in a few years.  Maybe I'll luck out and be their fearless leader!  They'd be so excited to have me there, I'm sure!

Diez

Boy, ten months really came fast.  I actually caught myself telling people she was nine months this week before I remembered she had another birthday.  Silly girl.

It's been a busy month!  

-She pulls up to anything and everything, but mostly Mommy's legs while she is trying to get something done. 

-She learned to climb stairs.  And how to fall down them.  It was pretty graceful.  She is usually sporting a bruise somewhere these days.

-She learned her first real word.  Not Mom.  Not Dad.  Daisy.  Our dog.  Awesome, isn't it?  I grew her for nine months and spent the next nine doting on her every whimper and she gets most excited about our dog.  It actually is pretty cute.  She goes crazy whenever anyone opens the back door and she thinks there might be a chance someone will take her to Daisy.  Also, she calls other dogs, and pretty much all furry animals Daisy. 

-She's still teeny - just over 15 pounds.  I think Cole weighed like 23 by now.

- She is more interactive and intentional.  The other day, Ben feel asleep in the car so I set him on the couch to finish his nap.  Molly noticed him and crawled over by him and started bouncing up and down and then would call out, "ahhhh" at him.  She did it a couple of times until she finally got him to wake up.  She was so proud of herself.  It was pretty cute.

-She, like all my babies, loves being outside.  She gets pretty excited to go out.  She really enjoys our sandbox, but I try to keep her out of there.  She's too quick!  Cole had a soccer game a few weeks ago that was one of the first really warm days this spring and we realized she tans up nicely.  Less than an hour in the sun and she turned into a little brown banana.  Maybe she got her Daddy's skin.  Lucky girl.

-And of course, her eyes still sparkle.  I had several people stop me at the grocery store yesterday to coo at her and they all commented on how pretty her eyes were. 

 

Happy Ten Months, our little Hot Ta-Molly.

Things I Miss #17: Sharing Clothes

In my younger years, I was pretty lucky to be sandwiched by my sisters.  This made for lots of good clothes sharing.  By the time I was old enough to really care about clothes, Kelli and I were the same size.  All through high school, we would share our wardrobes.  During back-to-school shopping trips, we'd often buy things together.  I remember a pair of penny loafers that we shared that I wish we still had.  They were awesome.  When Karlee caught up with us in size, my wardrobe grew again, and she always had good taste.  Both of my sisters were really good at sharing their clothes - much better that I was.  I think they mostly ended up sharing with me because I remember being a bit of a brat about sharing with them.  It was fun to be able to borrow from them.  When I went to college, I sometimes shared with my roommates too.  

I have been pretty limited in my ability to share clothes the last thirteen years.  Floyd and I are not really similarly sized.  But good news!  Cole and I ran a 5K last weekend and our shirts from it are only one size apart.  Plus, I can fit in his shoes and they are only a little bit tight!  Looks like I might get to start sharing again soon!

Lucky Cole.

Big Boy

Did you read about the big train coming through Utah last weekend?  I did.  It was an engine built to cover the steep climb between Ogden and Evanston called the Big Boy 4014.  It has been sitting in a train yard in Pomona, California for 50 years, but recently they began restoring it.  It had a brief stop in Ogden Sunday and Monday, so the kids and I took a little Sunday afternoon drive to visit it.  We were not the only ones - the place was packed!

Cole's first obsession in life was with trains.  It was rather fortuitous for us to live so near the train station.  We'd stop into the museum fairly regularly when he was little.  He took a million pictures on Sunday and had fun looking at the big train.

Ben was thrilled.  He kept stooping down to peer underneath the train where the workers were examining things and fixing things.  He's added that to the list of jobs he'd like to have when he grows up.  He had a bit of a hard time remembering its name and called it "Big Guy," "Big Joe," and "Big Boy" pretty interchangeably.  He volunteered to say the blessing on Sunday dinner later that evening at Grandma Donna's and forgot to actually bless the food, but did include a thank-you that we got to see Big Boy.   

Annie is clearly not a train enthusiast.  She tolerated the event, but it was obviously not her idea of having fun.  And little Molly entertained herself by finding all the visitors who had brought their dogs along (which was a surprisingly large number of visitors) and kicking her legs in delight whenever she spotted one.

The day couldn't be finished without me re-telling my kids about the time a large train was coming through Cache Valley on a Sunday afternoon.  Grandpa Max loaded us all up in his blue Cadillac and we drove over to watch it.  Before the engine came, we laid pennies on the tracks.  It felt like an earthquake when that big train thundered past.  When it was gone, we went out to the tracks to find our pennies.  There were none left on the tracks, but we found them lying in the weeds and rocks nearby, smashed completely flat. 

 

I keep mine in my jewelry box and think of Grandpa Max whenever I pull them out.  

 I'm kind of like Annie.  A big train isn't really my idea of fun either, but I do love a good memory.  Hopefully my boys will remember Big Boy.

Things I Miss #16: Penny Candy

Growing up, there was usually a store in Newton.  Sometimes, it was between owners and would close for a few months.  Those were never good times.  Drive to Smithfield for milk?  Ridiculous! When there was a store, there was penny candy.  Oh boy did I love penny candy!  Penny candy, for those unfamiliar with the term, is quite obviously candy that cost a penny a piece.  It was things like Swedish fish (red and purple), sour cherries, sour grapes, sour watermelons, sour patch kids, mini tootsie rolls, and Swedish berries.  Kids in Newton spent a lot of money getting penny candy, sometimes even on Sundays when they sneaked out of Sunday School (that was NOT me).  That's probably how the store stayed in business.

My favorites were the Swedish berries.  I really like Swedish fish and I'm glad they are still around, but what happened to the berries?  Well, I tried to find a picture of them for this post and read on Wikipedia that the production of Swedish berries has been discontinued in the U.S., but they are still available in Canada.  Which means that the next time Floyd says, "we should really go back to Glacier," I will reply, "Yes, and let's be sure and cross the border into Waterton while we are there." 

And yes, Kelli, I'll bring a box home for you too.

Things I Miss #15: Lessons

Remember how your parents used to drag you to your lessons?  And how you never wanted to practice?  I miss taking lessons.  As a kid, I remember taking swim lessons, piano lessons, dance lessons, guitar lessons, and clogging lessons.  Sadly, I never acquired any swimming skills and have lost all acquired skill in everything but piano.  I wish I had kept at it.  I get sorta jealous of all the lessons my kids get to try out.  While I shuttle them back and forth to their lessons, I'm starting to make a little list of lessons I want to take when life slows down a bit (ha!).  On my list so far:

Dance

Violin

Art

I wish it was a bit easier to find adult classes for these types of things.  Anyone have any good suggestions?