Smiley Riley is 10.

Thanks to those that sent shout-outs to Riley.  She got to read them, and she felt pretty special.  For those that may not know, or happened to miss my last post, Riley turned 10 on Wednesday.  How is it possible?  I'm a mother of a 10 year old. And I am a mother of a 16 month old...both girls.  Both so incredibly different.  And I'm the mother of a seven year old boy....I have to keep telling myself that I'm still a hot chick.  I know that's really, really superficial, but I feel like my life has turned into this time-warp.  And I stand still while everything and everyone whizzes by me..leaving those moving vapor-trails as they spin into the future.  "Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'...into the future." I now know exactly what that means.  That it's not just some drugged-out has-been talking about something he knows nothing about.  (Just a partially drugged out, has-been).
I fear that one day I'm going to look in the mirror and really see myself...and I'll be this sad, old lady that still tries to "wear what the kids are wearing".  And "pretends she's 25 years younger than she really is".  The sad part? I can honestly see myself doing this...and being too far gone to have any shame over it. 

Anyway, back to my daughter, because this post is, after all, about her.  Mainly.  Ten years ago to this very night (I'm typing this on the 14th, but who knows when it will get posted), I remember I was laying in my tiny hospital bed...and I got up to go take my contacts out, because I'd just finished nursing Riley--and it was really weird--and I thought I may as well try to get some sleep, because I'd been excited and up since around 4 am when she was born.  I got slowly out of bed, and felt amazing--I could move!  I could breathe!  I was a little shaky, but I didn't feel like I had a 100lb tumor stuck to my lungs and chest, and I really thought I'd go look at myself in the mirror, and love that I was skinny again, and that my stomach would be back to normal.  I had just had a natural delivery, after Riley finally came 2 weeks overdue, so I should have had at least one thing go my way.  Right?  
Well, first off, I remember my reflection showing me that my hair was freaking scary.  I smelled pretty ripe, and my face was greasy.  My happiness at being a mommy did a lot for my demeanor, but not my physical appearance.  And then it was time for the real test.  I needed to see my stomach.  Because it didn't have an 8 and 1/2 pound baby in it anymore...so it had to have been somewhat smaller, right?  I mean, isn't that science? 
I lifted my nightgown, and of course I was sucking it in, because now I could.  And I again consulted my reflection.  However, it didn't look like I'd lost that much weight.  And then, I exhaled. Basically letting my stomach OUT and it just....dropped.  Like, to the top of my thighs.  It was THE grossest thing I'd ever seen.  And Riley, my first born, had made this happen to me.  Something so small, and so sweet and that I surprisingly loved beyond comprehension as soon as I held her in my arms, had horribly disfigured me.  Forever.  
*rant* Or so I thought.  I mean, I'll never have that tight skin that women have BEFORE giving birth, again.  Even Madonna doesn't have it--not that I'm saying her stomach doesn't look great after all the exercises and such that she does.  But you can tell the texture is just...different in her lower abdomen.  And believe me, I can spot it.  Never underestimate the power of a neurotic's eye.  It's a genetic thing.  And once again, I totally missed the boat.  THANKS ANCESTORS.*end rant*
Anyway, it was then and there that I realized there would be so many sacrifices I'd have to make for this kid....willing, and kinda unwilling.  And though that sounds less-than-great, it's the truth.  I have made sacrifices.  But I'd do it a million times over.  The smiles, the love, the sense of achievement she's brought into my life, have made everything beyond worth it.  Ten years ago I was a much different person than I am today, but I was less.  Though I whine about getting old, I guess there's really no way I'd rather do it.  
Well...that was kind of weird, I know.  But the fact that I've made it this far is a bit mind-blowing to me.  In the next ten years what will be happening?  Will she be attending college?  Will she be married?  Will she be happy?  Just as long as she knows that she's loved...that she and her brother and her sister, and her father are my everything.  And that I'm grateful for every day I have with them. If she knows those things, then regardless of how old I am, it will be worth it.  :)
(fyi:  I'll also keep telling myself I'm still a hot chick...cause that's just what I do).

So, Riley woke up and let both me and Jeff sleep in.  On HER birthday!  Is she the best kid, or what?  She didn't even keep coming in to our room, begging us to let her open presents every two minutes after 8:00 am.  Like someone who will remain nameless.  Or not.  Cole.
We got to get up at around 10:30 and we didn't eat breakfast, because we went down and watched Riley open gifts, and then got ready to go to Pirate Island Pizza.  Which was pretty much awesome, because that place is a ghost town on Wednesday afternoon, and we had the entire building to ourselves.  Our waitress actually apologized to us for not being able to sing to her, as there were only two servers on staff at that time, so they gave her a baggie of treats, instead.  Worked out perfectly--she's like her dad in that the whole singing part of birthdays is best forgotten about.  Technically this was the year that we were supposed to let both kids have birthday parties.  But with our house going back on the market and us being in the middle of a bunch of crap in that area, we have postponed it to next year, when hopefully, life is a little less out of control.  Emphasis on "hopefully".  However, both Riley and Cole were total champs about this decision, and I was reminded again, of how fabulous my kids are.  

After gorging ourselves on pizza and breadsticks, (totally screwing Cole's system up, I might add, as we just weren't even thinking about it, and neither was he), the kids went nuts with all the tokens and went to work winning tickets to buy necessities like plastic bracelets, and small sticky toys that get hair and goo all over them, and sea animals that Syd can choke on. Basically everything I hate.  
While they were doing that, I let Syd run around and touch all the blinking lights...until I noticed the ticket/prize guy giving me the look that said I needed to exercise more control over my toddler.  She was a little stinky anyway, so I decided to take her out to the car, and change her diaper.  I went and got my bag, and the keys from Jeff, and went to take care of business.  

I unlocked the keys with the remote, sat Sydney next to her car seat and shut the door so she could play around while I put my bag on the passenger side seat and threw the keys with it...grabbing a diaper, shutting the door and going to the opposite back seat, so I could grab Syd and change her.  However, somehow...the car was locked.  And Syd was inside, and it was the first warm day we'd had in forever, and the windows were all up.  I kind of panicked for a few seconds.  Syd was fine...she'd found some stuff to eat on the floorboards, and so she was content with that.  But Jeff was inside the arcade with Riley and Cole, and the keys and my phone were on the passenger seat...mocking me.  My dilemma:  Trying to get to Jeff, to anyone, while my baby is locked inside the car, alone in a parking lot, getting continually warmer, with no fresh air.  I ran to the emergency exit of the arcade, and pounded on it.  The ticket/prize guy looked at me, pretended not to see me, and then looked away.  I didn't go anywhere.  I kept the car within my sight and continued to stay there, looking straight at him, and finally he rolled his eyes, and opened the door for me...about to tell me that I wasn't supposed to enter that way, until I cut him off with, "I need my husband over there--I'm a moron, and I locked my baby in the car."  His eyes got all wide, and he called to Jeff while I stood there, knowing that Syd was screaming in the car.  Jeff followed me out, and here's what we saw:

Jeff called the police and we waited...and when one showed up, he took a while, trying to get the car door jimmied.  Luckily, I left the keys on the front seat, because he ended up pushing the unlock button on the remote of my keys. Syd was just fine the entire time.  It was like a game to her.  
Yet another reason I won't be winning any "Mother of the Year" awards.  Luckily everything turned out okay.  After that, I was done....I'd had way too much excitement. 

First Riley had to go spend some money at Toys R Us.  (Some rituals are too entirely awesome to break), and then lastly we came home.  I took a nap while Jeff and Riley made cupcakes with no frosting--her idea.  She's not a frosting fan.  (Neither am I). It was really low-key, but that's something I'm grateful we all agree on:  Low-key is how we prefer stuff.  Unless it's about me...and then you can bring out the fireworks, and it's all good.  

Riley read all of her shout outs, and felt great, and ended up telling Jeff and I that yet again, it was the "best birthday ever".  I'm thoroughly enjoying this part of her childhood, and I don't look forward to the time when this whole ordeal will turn into, "My birthdays ALWAYS suck".  Which is something I went through from about 16 to 25.  Maybe she'll luck out and that phenomenon will skip her. Fingers crossed.  
I'm so lucky to have you, Sweetie.  Your birthday is always exciting for me, because it reminds me of how much you've changed my life--so much better than I could have imagined. 

200th post

This is my 200th post.  And it blows.  The people that were buying our home didn't get the loan they needed, and now we are on the market again.  That's not the sad part.  The sad part is, we won't be able to get the house that I've been daydreaming about for the last week.  Copper kitchen sink?  Stone tile and hardwood floors?  Claw footed bathtub?  All those things are gone.  GONE.  AAAAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!! I know I shouldn't have gotten all worked up about it.  But I did.  I knew this whole thing was fragile and "iffy".  But then I was also making mental interior decisions and such each night...EVERY night, while I should have been trying to sleep.
I hate being dependent on other people.  This whole process is infuriating.  I mean, it's like being in science class.  And being partnered up with the dumb kid that could give an absolute crap about the grade that you'll be getting.  Yet, you have to work with them, because a huge part of the grade is the whole PARTNERSHIP factor.  I hated that in school.  I hated having to depend on others for my end result.  And yet, here it is again.  Anyway, that's where we are right now.  I'm mad and I'm bummed, and I just want to wallow in my own self-pity.  So I had to get that out of my system before Riley wakes up...and she'll have turned 10.  In a few hours she'll be up, and she'll want me to be happy on her big day.  So I'm going to bed ticked, and since I don't have a house to dream-decorate, maybe I'll get some sleep. And then I'll be ready to have fun and focus on Riley and what she wants to do. 

My Son is 7.

Thanks to all for the shout-outs to Cole on his birthday.  (And cards)! On the 8th he turned seven...and I can't believe it's come to this, but now he's a boy--he's not my baby Bubbers anymore.  I'm a little heartbroken, but he seems to be doing very well with it.

I think he had a good day...in the afternoon he wrangled Jeff and Riley into playing Legos with him for hours and it was Cole's dream come true.  I did have to convince him that before we went out shopping and to dinner, he had to get into some regular clothing.  He wasn't overly excited, however because he's Cole, he was game.  But first he had to show me a few unconventional things that he found he could do with parts of one of his Lego sets:  

This first pic is his "wise cricket" pose.  And the second his, "moooostache".  Ah, I love this kid.  His wit is amazing to me, it's hard to remember he's so little sometimes. He's kind and considerate and polite and witty.  He's the kind of boy that all the little girls are, and should be, in love with.  I'm not just saying that because I'm his mother, I'm saying that because I'm a woman, and know he's good to those he loves.  Which is so important, and it makes me proud. 
He chose to go to Carl's Jr. for his birthday dinner, and surprise, he didn't even eat anything.  He just wanted to play in the play area.  This seems to be a tradition he's developed for himself.  We have to sit in a place that is loud and probably incredibly unsanitary while he and a million other kids are screaming and sweating and pushing and losing their cheap plastic kid's meal toys and blaming it on another kid that they see holding the same one. I'm not sure how we get suckered into that each year, but I guess it has something to do with love or wanting to please the birthday kid.  I don't know, something dumb like that.  
And then we had to go to Toys R Us because like his mother, cash literally burns holes in his pockets, so we have to spend it right away.  No, it's not a good thing to pass down to my little ones...but out of all the genetic failures I'm swinging their way, it's not the worst, either.  He bought, surprise, more Legos.  One day, I will take him to Lego land.  And probably have to leave him there. 
I think that when we find our perfect new home, it will have to have a room just for all Cole's Legos.  He's turned into quite the architect and designer and creator.  I'm actually so impressed with what he just builds out of his head, and his ability to follow directions, because he whips stuff up that I would never think of in a million years.  He says that when he grows up he wants to be a Lego designer.  I'm assuming that there is SOME kind of employment out there in which this will be helpful.  I hope.  ;)
 

Happy Birthday, my best boy!  Love you so much.

Somehow, it's April already.  Somehow an entire four months have gone by since I had some time to come up for air. We've put our house up for sale, we are under contract...and I say that hesitantly, because we haven't really heard anything from the potential buyers yet.  I'm hoping that whomever is doing their home inspection comes soon so I know that things are moving along.  In the meantime, the house that we put an offer on countered with 6,000 OVER the LISTED price.  I was confused...I didn't know it could work that way, but, whatever.  Needless to say, we told them we'd look elsewhere.  
And honestly?  I'm glad we did...because we found my dream home.  And I'm not going to be overly secret about it, and whatever, because what will be, will be.  Last time I was overly worried to say anything, because I didn't want anything bad to happen.  And guess what?  With their counter offer, I felt that it was incredibly bad, and it happened.  So I'm just going to say this:  We found a house.  A beautiful, wonderful house that will most-likely work out if the sale of our home works out.  It's really so much more than I ever could have expected, and I feel like I should just be grateful that they accepted our offer.  But if it doesn't work, then it's not meant to be.  At least I know that they were willing to work with us, and that made me feel good.  And, has given me really great daydreams for the last few days.  We'll see.  If it goes well, I'll post a couple pictures.  Maybe.  I still don't want to jinx us.   But if my next post is me typing about how I'm crying, you'll know why.  We have a couple weeks to have some major highs or lows, and it just remains to be seen.  I'm asking for good vibes, though.  I mean, save the best vibes for those that truly need it, but if you have a couple to spare, send them this way.  I'm trying to drown myself in positives.  This is an entirely new approach for me, so I'll see how it works.




Okay, that's what's going on here.  Not a lot, yet, a whole lot.  Just nothing I have any control over, so that makes it kinda stressful.  I didn't want to add this to my post about Cole, so I'm trying to break apart from it....but this needs to be said:  Hope all are okay and enjoying life...because that's what's truly important.  Even when things are so stressful you can't sleep and, though this doesn't really happen to me, eat...remember that life is good.  That breathing and seeing and touching are great things--are blessings that we need to appreciate. Remember you're loved.  And that someone out there is thinking of you and being thankful for you at this very second..no matter what you have done, or who you are.  This week a friend of Jeff's took his own life.  And that breaks my heart, because I've felt that sadness before, and that hopelessness, and it's devastating.  I'm very lucky because that hasn't been any part of my thoughts for years.  But I remember when it was, and how confused and helpless you become.  My thoughts and love to his family and friends, especially since they have experienced this before...and quite recently.  I pray that out of this torment, a little peace is found, in time. 

The other stuff.

K.  I'm going to try this again.  
I showed you what our house looks like after the installation of the tile.  And it looks great!  The sad part, though, is that after eight years of wanting this, I think I may have maybe a month and a half left to enjoy it.  We got an acceptable offer on our home.  We countered, and they accepted.  So we are officially under contract.  Now, I'm not a complete moron...I know that the sale could fall through.  But Jeff and I had this, "it will probably never happen", mindset.  And now that it's a very big possibility that it is happening.  So, I'm trying to enjoy it while we can.  

We have our eye on a house in Springville.  We put in an offer, and they can certainly decide to decline...as it's contingent on whether or not this house sells.  (That it doesn't fall through, I should say).  And that's where we're at.  Not a lot of concrete information, but what we have to work with for right now. 

Because it's after midnight, it's now officially Jeff's birthday.  He's 33.  WAY older than I am.  But still damn sexy.  Happy Birthday, My Love!  Hope it's a good one...I'm assuming it won't start until around 2ish, as you'll probably sleep in until the afternoon.  But I just want you to know that I love you, and you're still my best friend.  Forever.  Muuuuah!

Boom.

So, you all heard my whiny complaints about living in a home where everything is torn up and in chaos.  So I thought I'd take you through the process.  This was the initial reason for getting tile in the first place.  See that?  I did it about a year after we bought our home.  It was the result of me cooking...I picked up a pan, it was hot, and I dropped it on the floor.  Thus, melting a huge ugly skidmark on the cheapest linoleum on the market, I'm sure.  Riley used to actually lift the numerous mats I'd put in front of the oven...showing people what "mom did to our new house".  Yeah.  It was adorable, and really encouraged my love of cooking. 

Anyhoo, we lived with it forever, and when we decided to put our house up for sale, my mom was helping me do some cleaning, and saw it. She asked me if I turned it into our home owner's insurance, I said no, and from there, checked out the possibility of getting it taken care of, and it worked.  So, big thanks to my mom...cause I wouldn't have thought of doing that.  
After we got the go-ahead, Jeff and I enlisted Jeff's brother, Kurt to help us redo our kitchen floor.  And then my father-in-law gave us some left-over tile and we decided to do our bathrooms, too.  So, big thanks to Bob, cause we wouldn't have been able to do the bathrooms without it.  (It's really awesome to have people close by that hook us up so well). 

Before we started the floor, I had been wanting to change our door.  When we moved in, it was green.  And we liked it. However, a couple years ago, Jeff and I put a fence up, and it's red.  I thought having a red door would look better, rather than having the perpetual, "Christmas" house.  So Jeff went and bought some paint, and I made him paint the door while I went around the jam, because the paint had been peeling and it looked quite trashy.  

However, the color Jeff bought at first was HORRENDOUS.  It looked like old lady toenail polish. Even the insurance guy that came to give us an estimate on our floor asked me if we had just spray painted it.  This picture doesn't show its audacity.  But here it goes.

Thankfully Jeff found a better red--one that matches our fence.  And one that wasn't so shiny and orange-y.  I'm happy to announce that that huge nightmare worked out for the best.

Apparently I'm kind of hard on our home.  Completely unintentional, I assure you. While Jeff was working hard at painting the door that hideous red, I was trying to sand the door jam, and I leaned on the smaller door that was supposedly keeping the rain and snow out.  Which was a big mistake, because it fell completely inward, and hit the banister to our stairs.

I cried.  This is why I hate doing any sort of anything-because no matter what I do, I always end up making stuff worse.  And once again, Jeff saved me with some wood putty and paint.  

Fyi:  After the wood putty dried, and we painted it white, you can't tell there was any damage there.  I lost the pic, and am too lazy to go take another, so just imagine it looking great.  Cause that's how it looks.  The next week was time to start on the floor.  Kurt, Jeff's brother came over and showed him the ropes.  After a few lessons from Kurt, Jeff took the reigns and like everything else he does, did it expertly.  It's now finished and I do have to say I love it.  Here's the kitchen/half bath/entryway:

And then we used the free tile from Bob for Jeff and my bathroom, and the kid's bathroom.  I think they turned out quite incredible as well.  

So I have more to say, but I am hating Blogger lately.  And everything I just did?  It totally deleted and that makes me so mad I want to throw my computer toward our television.  So I'll add more tomorrow.  Happy Monday.  

Venting. Take Two.

If you ever just click on links to blogs from another's posts, like I do, then you know I wrote this one a few days ago.  However, it was right after my last "Beautiful Girls" post, and it was really negative and angry and I didn't want it to reflect in any way on that post, because I was pretty proud of the positivity each one had generated.  In the beginning,  I was just responding to others negativity and anger, so I had to sit on this a few days, to figure out a better way of saying what I needed to say.  
 First off, I guess I have to consider myself a "Liberal".  Though saying that doesn't bother me, what people put behind it, does.  Like, I'm not as classy as a human as I should be, because I don't take the "Conservative" approach, normally.  As I've said before, I really try to take the side of things that make sense to ME.  How it affects ME, you know?  Not just because someone said that that's how THEY see it, or that's what THEY believe.  I really don't like having to differentiate myself from others by classing us as either Conservative, or Liberal.  Aren't we all people?  Aren't we each entitled to have an opinion?  And maybe tolerate it when someone's differs?  Maybe not go on and on and on, about your opinion, when people aren't engaging--literally saying they'd prefer not to fight with you, or listen to what they feel is wrong or a waste of their time? Anyway,  I guess this is where I must place myself. But I'm standing up right now, and saying that's because I agree with over half of the Liberal plans...and disagree with over half of the Conservative's.  Here in Utah, it seems like a lot of people think you can't be Mormon, and Liberal.  In fact, I read this week in someone's blog that they're tired of " A bunch of used-to-be-Mormons mindlessly taking a liberal standpoint". 
It sounds a lot like they're saying you can't be Mormon and Liberal at that same time.  And guess what?  You can.  It's called having a choice, and having free agency.  Something that if you're Mormon, you know IS A BIG DEAL.  
So this is my point.  I have a lot of hope in this new Health Care Reform. I'm not saying that I know all about it, because I don't, and frankly, I won't push myself to read EVERYTHING out there in order to expand my knowledge.  On the other hand, what I have read about it hasn't seemed to include all the terror that "overly knowledgeable" (and please see this as sarcasm) people that consider themselves "die hard Conservatives", are driving into the hearts of anyone mindless enough not to check SOME of it out themselves.  I haven't found the part where "I'm going to pay for Bobby Lee Brasco's eighth abortion cause she can't keep her legs shut and doesn't want another kid messin' up her lifestyle".  In fact, I've found the opposite.  So I'm just going with what I have actually READ--by documented sources. 
 And I'm not going to go into detailed conspiracy theories.  Because I do have a few, but I'm so tired of listening to everyone elses that I have a headache, and I'm sure that mine are no less stupid than the others I've heard.  Also, politics is a flat-out, nasty business--no matter which way you swing.  No matter what, we are all kept in the dark on a lot of major things.  That's the way of worldly power. 
However, despite us knowing all this, I'm having such a hard time with people, lately.  Guess what?  I don't want the government to take ALL my resources and choices and properties and everything away, either.  Does that sound super fun to me?  Nope.  However, I'm not the one shaking my fist and yelling:"RIP AMERICA!!! YOU'VE BROUGHT THE END OF TIMES UPON YOURSELVES!" I'm the one that admits we needed a change.  I am the one that still wants change, and hopes that something good will come out of it.  Here's my question for all you faithful followers of the LDS religion, because according to some, I was never faithful, because I have taken Liberal stands even BEFORE it was trendy.  But for all of you that are completely righteous and steadfast and let's not forget, political geniuses, where is your faith?  These last two years I had to endure all this, "please pray for our leaders that they will be open to positive inspiration...." and blah, blah, blah.  And guess what?  I did.  And guess what else?  I don't think I was the only one that actually followed that request, and I am betting that people supporting the conservative party did as well.  Could you maybe think for a second that they WERE swayed in the right direction? Or open to the spirit? That millions of people, that our country, that YOU needed a change from what we'd gone through in the past eight years of the Bush administration?  I mean, really?  Why can't you see that a change is needed?  That this country is based on the ability to change with the people and keep up with the times.  If it wasn't, we'd still be okay with having slaves, and uneducated Americans and women having no say in anything, and the list goes on and on.  After the constitution was written, did all the problems of the USA go away?  No.  It was through errors and paradigm shifts and even enlightenment in unusual beings and places, that it's come to be where we are today.  
Like all change, it's not going to be 100% great for everyone, right away.  We'll have to adapt and vote, and see what works, and what doesn't, and luckily, we have the privilege to vote to get it to be as workable a system as it can.  But it will never be perfect.  Ever.   
One thing I do know? And here's where I'm completely unapologetic in admitting my true opinion:  Everyone is entitled to have healthcare.  I don't care who you are.  Because I don't know anyone that would just stand there and let a person scream in pain or watch a child suffering, without NEEDING to do something.  Anyway, I hope I don't.  I'm usually a lot choosier in my friends, than that. And unless you can actually do something other than bitch about what may happen? I'm going to assume that you have no idea of what you're talking about...and I'm putting my faith in some of this change being the beginning of something better for people that need it. And one day, it may just be you.

The last ones...

Hey all.  So, I got the results of Cole's blood tests.  Apparently he tested really high in ONE of the gluten tests.  (I guess there are three different ones?) In a way, this is good...it means that there is something tangible that we can work with.  He now takes prevacid AC each day, and he needs to stay away from sugars.  This means big carbohydrates, too.  So we're going to have to really work on rearranging our eating habits, and such.  And poor Cole, he's going from eating sugar and starches daily, maybe I should say hourly, to cutting WAY back.  I'm still trying to figure out how I can make more "gluten free" meals, and basically, this means a lot of gross stuff, and foods that sound and look terrible.  So, wish me luck.  It doesn't seem like that big of deal, but it's actually going to change all our lives.  For the better, but still a big change. And yeah, it's also anxiety related...but this is something that I have, too.  So Jeff and I are even more firm in our resolve to make our home a sort of haven for all our kids. Just a place that they enjoy being themselves, and know that they're loved and appreciated.  Even when I'm being a really rotten mother. 

 This is my last "Beautiful Girls" post.  I wanted to restate that these women aren't the only beautiful girls I know, but they're important to me....really important to me in different ways.  I think that a good woman is fairly easy to find...it's the good men that are in short supply.  Why is that?  I mean, if you were to really think about the people you know...the best ones, aren't they like, 89% women?  And beautiful?  This is personal experience talking, not just opinion.  Thus, the reason I felt like I needed to do this for the women in my life.  So, there ya all go.   

Sadie doesn't comment on my blog, but I know she reads it.  She's mentioned it to me a couple times, and when I check the map on my blog...which I do more often than I feel comfortable admitting, I always see two Laramie, Wyoming, points.  One, I know is my sister, Lora.  And the other started up after Sadie moved there to go back to school.  So I'm assuming it's her.  And if it's not, then this will be the first time I've ever been wrong in my entire life. ;) I met Sadie, really met her when I was in eighth grade and she was in seventh grade.  I'd seen her at school before then, but we were in different grades, and it wasn't until we had one class together-choir-that I met her and her best friend, Kass Sanders.  I liked them immediately. They were funny, and so much alike that sometimes it was as if they were sisters, even looking alike.  But I was always closer to Sadie.  She seemed to get me a lot better, and I just thought she was adorable.  I remember her getting mad once at Christopher Walmouth because he was never nice to her.  He was Becky Elliot's boyfriend at the time, and I asked why it was that big of a deal. She said, "Well, you'd think that maybe he'd be less of an a$$hole to Becky's friends because when he's a jerk, all of us won't convince her to dump him".
She's always been that girl that seems to be completely comfortable with herself, and that was something I admired, greatly.  Grade school, and high school, and in adulthood, she's never settled. She is spiritually and physically strong...and if she feels like she can be stronger, she takes the initiative. She's going back to get her Master's Degree, and she's self-sufficient in a way that I've never been.  She's truly beautiful, and fun, and everyone that knows her, loves her.   Though I don't see her often, she is a person that I know that if I were to visit her, or she me, we'd be comfortable, and enjoy each others company.  There aren't a lot of people like her.  And I'm lucky enough to call her a friend. 

Sarah Comin (Baker) was the only LDS (Mormon) friend I had growing up.  She was a year older than I.  There were others in my age group, but they sucked.  Big time.  In fact, one out of the two LDS girls that were actually my exact age (Holli Sharp), and her older sister-who became pregnant her senior year-would call me "Bitch" in the hallways of school, between classes.  Nice, right? And the reason they'd call me bitch is because I made fun of her older sister, Heather, when we went to a Seminary breakfast and she cut her boyfriend's pancakes into bite-size pieces.  Granted, he WAS two years younger than she was, so I'm guessing choking COULD have been a problem.  (Btw, her boyfriend was Lance Shepperson, of the Levi and Lance Shepperson "smell" she commented on, and he married and had three kids with her, and ended up divorcing Heather and getting remarried to her within a three year span.  Now I'm friends with him on Facebook, and he seems to spend a lot of time in Karaoke bars, with a blond girl--not Heather--that's his wife and has two brown front teeth.  Not that that's really relevant for this post, but I was right....I thought that their pancake-cutting love was a joke and guess what?  IT WAS).  And April Strait was the other Mormon in my grade...and anyone that knew her thought she was a freakshow and a half.  And she was also pregnant by our senior year.  And interesting side note, I think I've seen her stomach more times than anyone outside my nuclear family...every time I went back to Wyoming, she'd show it to me.  Just because she'd popped out five kids (at that time), and had no stretch marks.  I didn't ask, believe me.  Kudos to her, though.  I'd be pretty proud of my non-stretchmarkedness, too, however, a bit more private about it .  Anyhoo, sorry about that stroll down memory lane...back to Sarah.  
Sarah was that girl that was kind to everyone, and thoughtful and steadfast in our faith, which for a high school kid, was really hard.  It was really hard for me, anyway...and obviously it wasn't a cake walk for the others in our age group, either. But the place where she was strongest, was believing in herself. I remember that Sarah had the worst obstacle that I'd ever seen anyone have to overcome, in her daily life.  And I can't tell you exactly what it was, as it's not my memory to share, but it rhymes with "shmendy".  And it was one of the most evil and vile things I've ever seen...still to this day.  Honestly.  I say that my childhood was rough, but I didn't have a shmendy to deal with, and I know I would've ended up in an institution if I would have.  Because I would have gouged out her eyes and sawed off her limbs. And she totally would have deserved each depraved routine of torture I put her through.  But that's all I'll say about it.
I think what made me love Sarah most was her personal strength.  As a kid, you have all these obstacles...like getting along with friends, and just making it through each day, and trying to find what you need and what you can do about it.  In addition to that, in addition to being my friend, and helping ME with those things, she had to deal with this monster, that seriously tried to sabotage her daily.  And I witnessed so many things that were just...so completely unjust and terrible, yet, were things that became her everyday life.  And so this is just one of the reasons for my amazement with Sarah, is this:  She overcame all of it.  She's a mother herself, and her world revolves around her little one, I've witnessed that much.  And she never had that.  And her husband loves her, and has given her everything that she missed out on...and I've witnessed that, as well.  Sarah's adult life is the way I always hoped and prayed it would be.  She's one of those people that deserve greatness, and she's got it.  She's smart and lovely, and doing and being what she always had wanted.  I'm so happy for her, and her story makes me believe that having great courage and self-worth won't steer you wrong.  It just takes a seriously strong person to make it work.

Sarah Stevenson is my niece.  That's so weird to me sometimes, but I guess that's how it happens when your husband has 14 siblings.  I've gotten to know Sarah a little better because for a while she was in my book club.  Now, obviously, she's a knockout, but I'm pretty sure that everyone loves her voice...anyway, I do.  And I'm very popular, so chances are high.  She has an English accent that I just wish I was born with.  Sometimes when she's talking I feel bad, because I'll miss parts...as I'm just coveting her accent the entire time, imagining myself and how everyone would love me if I sounded like her...Anyway, back to Sarah.  She's funny.  And she pretends to think I'm funny.  That's two things that someone has to have to make me a fan.  She's gotten so fricking skinny lately...and believe me when I say that's a compliment.  Maybe some wouldn't think so, but if I could be skinny like her, I'd be soooo happy.  And I'd wear belly shirts and mini skirts.  So maybe it's a good thing I've got some junk in my trunk, and then some.  Otherwise, my neighbor wouldn't be the only trashy short-shorts sporting, cig smoking, kid yelling, bra-less tank wearing, mama.  
One thing I truly love about Sarah is that she's kind of an "anything goes" girl.  She's really great about fitting in to niches and being open-minded and she makes you feel good to be around her.  I think that people like this draw others because everyone likes to feel good about themselves.  And when you have someone that you wish you were more like telling you that you're fantastic--it's pretty much a high for me. My memory of Sarah has changed recently...and I don't know if it's cause of the new hair color.  She used to be a brunette.  But the other day I was at a family function and I started talking to her.  And she told me I looked great...and I had PMS, and I'd just fretted like an hour before about how to cover up my zits, and bloated belly simultaneously. And there she was, looking like Shadow Barbie...tall, and glamorous and skinny and blond, and genuine, and in a black dress that was funkily stylish.  And she told ME that I looked great.  And she said it in her English accent, so I TOTALLY was listening.  Anyway, that's what I've been thinking about when I think of Sarah, lately.  It's a selfish memory, I know.  But it made me feel so great that I forgot about the side-effects of my bout with PMS and immediately felt more comfortable.  Sometimes people have a gift of saying the right thing.  (Not one of my strong points).  Sarah is definitely one of those people. 

I met Shauna shortly after Jeff and I started dating.  Keri used to tell me all the time when we worked at Future Shop together about her sister that she just admired so much--that was raising her two boys, and her "interesting" views on energies and foods and suppliments, and lots of stuff that I'd never really heard of.  I remember once after Jeff and I were married I was at his parent's house.  And I don't really know why I was there....I think we had to have papers signed for the apartments that we were managers of, or something.  Anyway, Shauna was there, too.  She and her sons Matthew, and Andy.  She was making this weird green drink in the blender, and giving it to her kids.  It smelled pretty good, kind of like apple juice.  But the way it looked, well, it was pretty much what I would expect to find in Andy's diaper after eating some high fiber biscuits.  And Matthew and Andy were chugging it--which I thought was completely weird, because Jeff has some kind of hatred toward salads and anything that's not overly pretty.  And Keri had told me at the time that she "didn't like to eat green things".  So I guess I'd assumed that all Andersons were these weird, picky eaters that had no sense of adventure when it came to culinary creations.  (Sorry Andersons, but you know who you are).  Shauna has broken a lot of what I imagine as "Rules of Andersons".  She's the one that I'm always looking for at family functions, so I can try what she's made for the pot luck dinner.  And she always surprises me with her ability to put stuff together and make it taste great.  I remember once that I was babysitting Shauna's kids and Matthew, who was 12 at the time, told me that he'd never tasted anything better than the homemade meals his mom made.  I wish my kids could say that about me.  But, no.  Never in a million years.  Shauna is one of those people that are truly interested in your opinions and thoughts.  And it's nice, because she's also very accepting.  She's not one of those people that want to know why you think the way you do to tell you why you're wrong...and believe me, I know a ton of people like that.  She wants to know what you think why you think it, to see if there are any angles that she may have missed.  She never makes you ashamed of having a different opinion or outlook, and she always supports you when you do.  I think she's someone that her kids will really treasure.  She's made all these recent changes in her life...and she's facing them head on.  When I think of things that are scary, that's one of the biggest things I can think of...change, and being the one to do it.  But she's completely kicking butt and taking names. There are so many things about Shauna that it's hard to pinpoint anything.  She's truly one of those larger than life people. And I'm in awe of her. 

Sharon is my aunt. She's a woman that I admire for a lot of different reasons.  She's the queen of puns.  Some are pretty bad, ;), but she holds the reign over one of the quickest minds I've ever witnessed.  She's witty, and her memory is amazing.  Sharon can remember the names of people she hasn't seen in like, 15 years.  I can't even remember names of people I met 15 minutes ago.  Or sometimes, close friends and family members. (I've convinced myself that this is an anxiety-induced setback.  Not a repercussion from Diet Mountain Dew).  Anyway, she has lived her life on her own terms for as long as I can remember.  She loves her parents, her brother, and her sister--my mom. I remember summers going to her home, and staying a week.  My mom, my sisters, and my brother would drive for a day and a half, and then be spoiled rotten by Sharon the entire time we'd be there.  She'd feed us, take us to parks and the zoo, and on bike rides or walks, and of course, my favorite part--she let me watch all the MTV I could handle.  She was definitely the most fun part about summers.  I always noticed my mom was really different when we'd go visit.  She was...younger, and laughed, and she and Sharon had a gazillion inside jokes.  As a kid, I thought that was a bit annoying, because I wanted Sharon's attention continually on ME, but I see how important that time was, now.  I need my sisters, both of them, so much.  They're the only ones that know how I came to be the person I am, and that's a remarkable bond.  My mom is lucky that Sharon is her sister, because she's devoted to her family.  I've seen that time, and time again.  Sharon was very supportive of me when my dad was dying.  I will always appreciate that.  Despite the love and devotion she has to my mother, and despite the separation between my parents being ugly and uncomfortable, she still was there for me.  And I think that that, more than anything, showed me that despite other obstacles, family is family.  And it's important to put personal ill will aside, and focus on the best aspects of them.  I've had a really hard time with that this past year, and I feel like I'm coming more to terms with it.  Sharon doesn't know, but she's been a big example to me in a lot of ways.  I love her greatly, and she makes me laugh...even in the most uncomfortable situations.  I'm sad that she lives so far away, but I'm very grateful that she tries to visit whenever she can. 

The last woman I'll tell you about is Wendy.  And honestly?  I don't know if she reads my blog.  But, I do know that her sisters do, and I think it's important that they read what I have to say.  Not that I'm full of the unknown, or anything, but Wendy is someone that amazes me to no end. Let me also say that probably 35% of time I spent on this post went into finding a picture of Wendy.  Which is not an exaggeration.  Seriously.  
Wendy is quiet.  I mean, once you get to know her she's kind of talkative but you kind of have to ease her into it.  I think of her as being a lot like Jeff. Totally photograph-avoiding like Jeff.  Or Jeff being a lot like her, I guess. She's smart and beautiful.  She does our taxes every year, and I am in her eternal debt for doing so.  That's not the only reason she's smart...it's just that I tried to do them one year when it was just Jeff and me.  And I almost had a nervous breakdown because despite the directions being written in English, I'm still too dumb to figure out what they're actually saying for me to do.  Sad but true.  And Wendy teaches herself stuff...she knows how to tile, how to lay laminate boards, how to fix various plumbing problems, how to budget for her family of six, how to squeeze time in for her extended family on top of all the activities of her and her kids.  And the most amazing part?  She does it herself.  She has five kids.  She works full time.  She is a single parent.  How is she still sane? How does she get up and do her hair and makeup everyday? I have asked myself those questions a bazillion times.  And her kids are good kids; which is a true test of a great mom.  They love their mom, and know she loves them. 
Wendy was really good to us at a time when things were hard, financially.  She gave me a job nannying, and I have to say, I loved it.  Not only because she was so good to me, but because I got to know her kids and love them, too.  I got some practice at dealing with teens, tweens, and babies, all at the same time.  And I saw how she cared for each one of her kids, and how she purposely put aside time for each.  I could go on and on, because she's someone that I truly look up to.  I stay home, I have Jeff to dump on, and I have a mere three kids.  And yet, I have times when I'm like:  "I don't think I'm going to make it through today".  Sad huh?  Wendy's life is not anywhere near a cake walk, but she does it.  And she does it well.  She's the meekest Super Woman you will ever meet, but don't be fooled.  She could totally take you in your sleep.

Okay then.  Alphabetically, that's my list.  I'm sorry this last one has come at such a late time.  But I've been somewhere else, I think.  I'm finally able to move around my house again, and not having to wipe tile-dust from everything. And coming up with why I admire these women has been really hard.  Let me fix that:  coming up with reasons why I admire these women has been easy.  Narrowing down those reasons to a paragraph a piece has been a bit overwhelming for me.   I want each woman to be appreciated equally, but not overlooked, because I'm going on and on, either.  Does that make any sense?  It's possible the tile sealant has glazed over my brain and affected me in the same way as toxic paint fumes.  So if I'm just jabbering on with no clear purpose, I blame that.  I have one last thing that I have to add:  Today Kass brought this by:  

Er, this is the underside of it, already being put to good use by my Squish.  After I rearranged it, and laid it out so you can see, this is it in its true splendor:

Isn't it fantastic?  She told me she was going to make a blanket for Syd. In a way, I didn't want to give it to Syd...because I wanted to keep it for me.  But would any of the "beautiful girls" that I gushed about keep a blanket made especially for their baby, for themself?  Probably not.  So I guess I'm learning, right?  I'm taking lessons and carrying through with them. I hope you are, too.  I think we're lucky to have others to look up to, to let us know what we are capable of.  That there are so many more things than we thought possible.  Have a happy Monday!  Hope this lasted you for at least the first 45 minutes of work.  ;)