Memorial Day

I love the musical Les Miserables. I have seen it three times and would love to see it another three. Every aspect of the show is moving and inspiring. The question is who do you relate to? Are you Val Jean, running from your past or are you Javert, trying to live the letter of the law and having lost all human compassion. Who is right and who is wrong? Les Miserables brings me a lot of comfort and healing. I can, in some way, relate to every character.

I have been doing some reflecting as of late. Maybe it is because we are about to celebrate Memorial Day. I have lost a lot of friends, family, associates, etc.. due to health, self inflicted, accident, age or war. I often wonder what life would be like if I was in the car that night with my friend or why didn't God give me the cancer instead. I feel guilty, at times, for they are gone, but yet I live. I appreciate what I have and I make for damn sure that I work hard so nothing is in vain. So again, as we approach this time of remembering our losses and the emotions that it brings, I am again reminded of Les Miserables. There is a small scene where Marius is in the room where all his friends laughed, played, planned the revolution. After the attacks at the barricade he is deeply troubled; troubled due to the fact that he lost all his friends. He takes one moment and reflects on their lives. He, in essence, has his Memorial Day. You see, he feels guilty that he lives, and yet his friends are gone. He questions their sacrifice, all the while questioning himself. He sings "Empty chairs at empty tables" and I think this is the best song ever written for someone who is suffering from survivors guilt or someone who is still morning a loss. The words are comforting, healing, and honest. Marius comes to terms with his loss, copes and moves forward. I am grateful for that small, but powerful scene demonstrated so beautifully the emotions we go through with a loss.

I would ask anyone who reads this post, to take a moment, reflect on your loss, honor the dead and listen to this song which I have provided and have your own private Memorial Day.

Some Stuff

Last night I sat down to catch up a little. I did a big ol' post -- then lost the whole thing! Darn Blogger! I was ornery. So, It's a new day and I'm feeling a little less snarky, so I'm going to attempt to summon the muses and try again.

Matthew turned 12 in January. He definitely was ready to "graduate" from Primary and enter the Young Men's program at church. It wasn't until the end of February that we were able to figure out family schedules and have his ordination, but it was a very cool day and he was surrounded by lots of supportive family. Of course, I have only a couple of pictures of the lunch we had afterwards, but it was a lot of fun and it meant a lot to us to have all of our Utah family make the trek north to support our boy.

The picture below is from the Matt's first Sunday as a Deacon and able to pass the sacrament in Church. I only teared up a little. :) We sure are proud of Matthew and the choices he's making. What a good kid.


One evening after Steve got off work, we all went bowling. The girls were especially fond of the footwear. It was a blast and we definitely learned something about ourselves: we totally stink at bowling. It was a great ab workout, though, for all the laughing we did!

Little-known fact: Steve took a bowling class in college. It was for PE credit.

Another little-known fact: Steve very nearly failed a bowling class in college.

The grade for the class was hugely based on attendance. That was one problem. Steve was carrying a very heavy class load that semester and frankly, bowling did not merit the first spot on his list of priorities. The other problem was that the instructor was a former bowling pro who took himself (and his mullet) a little too seriously. One of Steve's friends signed up for the class with him and bailed after the second class because the guy was such a cocky son of a gun. Go figure. Steve found it so much easier and so much more pleasant to just go bowling on his own time (on his own tab), save the receipt, and turn it in as proof that he went -- thus constituting a "make up" class. So, we spent a small fortune and he did, indeed, end up passing the bowling class. It's pretty funny, though, to hear about his days as the student of a professional bowler. You ought to ask him about it sometime -- and about "shaking hands with the headpin."

So Steve started his first turn telling Matt that he took a bowling class in college. (Maybe an attempt at intimidation?) He followed that up with a little smack talk about how he was going to kick everyone else's cans. He then proceeded to roll his first ball, got it stuck on his fingers, stepped too far onto the lane, and slipped - falling flat on his hind end! He jumped up so fast and immediately did the scan to see if anyone noticed. Thankfully, the bowling alley was pretty empty, so he had a little laugh at himself. I exhibited some AMAZING self-control, made sure he was okay, and only chuckled a little. I have to admit, though, that we got home that night and I replayed the whole thing in my mind and laughed until I cried. Then I called my sister and told her. Laughed til I was felt sick. (I'm actually giggling a little as I write this. Such a supportive wife.) So Dang Funny!

The weekend before St Patrick's Day, we made a quick jaunt to Salt Lake to the annual St Patty's parade. I love that everyone claims to be Irish on St Patrick's day! I mean, we really do have Irish roots on both sides of our family and I realize that tons of people do, but even the Lopez family is Irish on St Patrick's day. Awesome! So, if we are all bleeding Irish blood, then we're all brothers. The parade was just one big family party!

For the record, the kids were proudly wearing their green, but it was hidden by their jackets. :)

On St Patrick's Day the kids woke up to find Leprechuan confetti and (chocolate) gold everywhere. That tricky guy even colored our milk and toilet water green.

Rachel had a fun St Patty's party at preschool. Here she is complete with shamrock headband and green lips from a big green sucker.

Also in March, we were able to attend Matthew's first piano recital. He's taken piano lessons for several years now, but it was his first recital experience. He was a bit nervous, but did a great job.

He played beautifully and made his Mama proud. :)

Happy Birthday!

Last month my baby turned 3. I really, truly don't know how that happened. I know I share too much about how time is my mortal enemy and zipping away from me way too fast, but my baby is 3, Folks! :)
We had a lot of fun celebrating the big 3. Because Bailey's birthday was on Sunday this year, we decided to take her out for her b-day dinner the night before. She chose Golden Corral of the big celebration as her favorite foods are "meat, cheese, and jell0." To her absolute delight, she discovered that the Corral has a cotton candy machine. What?? Anyway, when you're the birthday girl, you get to choose whatever dessert you want, so Bailey chose the cotton candy. (She has a totally phoney smile on her face, but I had to share a shot of the prized treat.)

I decorated after Bailey went to bed so that when she woke up, she'd be surprised with streamers and balloons. I found this cute little banner at the trusty dollar store and hung it up. It had seriously been up on the wall for at least 20 minutes and I noticed nothing wrong. Matt walked into the room, took one look, and started laughing. He actually had to point out to me that Birthday was spelled wrong. 2 A's. oops. Not so trusty, Dollar Store.

It really doesn't take a lot to impress a 3 year old, but Bailey had a super fun day. Our family called from all over to wish her a happy day. She acted like each phone call was a wonderful surprise.

We gave her our gifts and spent the morning together.

Later in the day we went to Ogden to celebrate with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Bailey adores our extended famiy and loved her party. My sister and mom made her a little baby doll highchair complete with matching bibs and burpcloths. Bailey was in heaven!

Months prior to her birthday, Bailey decided that she wanted a Minnie Mouse birthday cake.

This little girl is constant. Whenever anyone asked her what she wanted for her b-day, all she would say is, "a meemie mouse cake." When we, at first, planned on spending Bailey's birthday alone here at home, I figured I'd make the cake and even if it looked pathetic, it wouldn't matter. We'd be the only ones to see and Bailey would be happy with anything remotely resembling Minnie. Then we decided to do the family party on her actual b-day. Problem. I can make a cake and convice a 3 year old that it's Minnie Mouse. The whole family would be a tougher crowd. -- In fairness, I really don't think anyone would have made too much fun of me, but I was not too confident in my cake making skills. So, my uber-talented sister swooped in and saved the day by asking if she could make the cake for her BFF Bailey. It was darling! There is a glare on the tinfoil in this picture, but it really did look fantastic! Thanks, Beck!! Bailey was one happy birthday girl!

What a fun day! It was wonderful to celebrate with people we love. We are so grateful for this little girl! Bailey is a gift and blessing to our little family. She had such a tough first couple of years due to illness and other weird things, but she is such a sweet little gal in spite of it all. Everyone just loves Bailey. She has such an infectious laugh and smile and such a silly, sweet disposition. She definitely has a little kick in her and can have a good, strong will too. She is a snuggler and little helper. We love our little Bailey dearly and are so grateful she's ours!!

Happy Birthday, Bailey! We love you!!

For Therapy...

This picture is a self-portrait. It's entitled "Sad, Screaming Rachel." I've decided to post it -- just in case something happens to the hard copy before Rachel's adolescence. You know, before she can take it to her therapist to help explain her childhood. Flashback: We've been enjoying a mellow evening. It's nearly time for the bedtime routine to commence. Dad strolls past the girls' bedroom, notices the pink explosion, and calls the girls to clean their room before bed. Little girls not only DON'T come running, but Dad has to call several times -- becoming a little less than nice by the last call. They are finally in the bedroom and Dad mistakenly thinks that the deal is sealed. Dad leaves room. Girls leave room. (Repeat a few times.) With patience wearing thin, Dad explains to the little ladies that having toys is a privilege and if the toys are not taken care of, they will be taken away. Rachel chooses a very poor time to try out a little bit of sass on her papa. Dad disappears downstairs only to reappear with a big black garbage bag. He proceeds to pick up toys and toss them in the bag. All you-know-what breaks loose! I am watching and begin to understand "weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth." Fast forward 15 minutes. Rachel and Bailey are starting to catch their breath. Swollen eyes and hiccups. They've wheeled and dealed with their daddy. He's agreed not to throw the toys away but put them in an undisclosed time-out location until they are earned back. The girls are so exhausted from their complete break-down that they fall asleep before their little heads hit the pillows. The next day Rachel sits down at the dining room table with paper and markers. She creates this masterpiece.

Kindergarten-- almost!

Last month we registered Rachel for Kindergarten. I can say that all nice-and-calm like right now. Wait until August, though and I'll probably be singing a different tune. I cannot even begin to fathom how my baby got old enough to go to school. It happened with Matt and I vowed that I wouldn't let it happen again. :) She is SO excited! She is also so ready. When we went in for the registration and screening she went right with the teacher who was doing the testing and she did an awesome job! We were so proud of her. She can't wait until school starts! I know she'll love it!

Drat!

One night I was reading in bed. My bed-mate was already snoozy snoring so I was using my handy dollar store clip-on reading light. It's the kind of light that is just barely light enough to see; sort of. So I hit the end of my book and glanced at the picture of the author on inside of the back cover. I took a double take. Then a triple. My nose was practically pressed against the book trying to see in my dim dollar light. By George, I'd just finished reading my second book by this same author only to realize I knew her! I went to junior high school with her, but had obviously lost track of her and didn't know her married name. The next day I headed to the library and got more books by her. I had enjoyed the two books I'd already read and she was such a nice girl in junior high.

So, I enjoyed some of her books more than others, but overall, liked my old chum's writing. There was one book that has stuck with me and caused a great deal of thought, though. It's not so much the story line or anything, but a quirky habit of the main character. This woman (whose name I can't even recall) experienced life, tragedy, miracles, success, you name it. This is the clincher - you ready? When the life, tragedy, and stress hit, she had a peculiar way of handling it. Really ready? She washed dishes!! Seriously folks, she filled the sink with hot, soapy water and washed the spaghetti sauce off stoneware. She'd stick her arms elbows-deep into the comforting suds and think. She'd think, pray, cry, laugh -- a regular catharsis. Her dishwasher sat brand new and unused as she hand-washed amid epiphany.

This talented author described the suds and warm water in such a way that I believed her...almost.

I have thought about this over and over -- mostly when I'm washing dishes. I've come to the conclusion that I must be doing it wrong. I don't enjoy it, for one. Also, I don't feel calmed, comforted, or cathartic. Mostly I just feel like I need to hurry and get it over with 'cause I don't like touching used food.

In an effort to make this whole thing work for me, I went to the store and bought some new dish soap. Palmolive. I remember having that kind at my kitchen sink when I was a kid. I quite enjoy the smell and thought that perhaps it would make me all nostalgic and comfort-y. All it really did was make me remember the time I washed cupcake tins with it and didn't get all the soap washed out before I baked in them. Blueberry muffins that tasted like Palmolive. Yuck.

I tried so hard. I looked at my list of things I would like to do when I feel upset or stressed. Drink Diet Coke, eat chocolate, read a book and hide from the world... nope, no dish washing. Nothing, in fact, that is at all productive or effective in cleaning my house. Drat.

I was feeling kind of bad about myself, but then started wondering if this lady and her dishwashing-therapy was even for real. Perhaps nobody does that and it was just for the story. You know, like literary license. I thought about emailing the author to voice my concern, but decided not to. After all, I did like her books and she was such a nice girl in junior high.

Winter

Did you see that? This post is "winter." We made it to at least the appropriate season. Never mind the fact that in Utah winter lasts like a year and it's given me plenty of time to catch up.
Here's another long 'un. Beware: more pictures, more babbling... :)


For Halloween my sister and her family came for the day. It was a blast. We made mummy dogs and Jack Skellington cupcakes for dinner then went to our ward Halloween party and then out for some trick or treating.

Matt had decided that he didn't want to dress up for Haloween this year. I know, sad. He figured he's in middle school now and all, so he didn't want to do it. At the last minute he decided to wear something simple and subtle. We threw this costume together and in the end I think he was happy he dressed up -- even a little.
Rachel changed her mind about 37 times in the months before the big day. She had finally settled on Rapunzel or some kind of princess. I found the blue dress and thought we could make it into a Rapunzel dress quite easily. Rachey tried it on and exclaimed, "It's perfect! I'm the queen of the world!" Yep, so Rachel went as the queen of the world. Aim high, Little Girl!
We explained to Bailey about Halloween and dressing up a few months before and listed off some possible costume ideas; one of which was Minnie Mouse. She immediately decided to be Minnie and never wavered.



The kids and their cousins ready to head out.



We had a fantastic Thanksgiving with my family in Ogden. I'm not really sure what happened that I hardly got any pictures of that day, but I guess I'll just blame it on food hangover. Dinner was wonderful and the kids all went out to play in the snow afterward. So fun.

Rachel and I kicked off the Christmas celebrations by attending Cache Valley Civic Ballet's Nutcracker. Steve, Matt, and Bailey hung out together so Rach and I could go.



We attended the Sugar Plum Fairy Tea before where she got to get a pic with the Sugar Plum Fairy and meet a lot of the dancers in the show. She was in heaven! We then went to the Blue Bird Cafe for lunch and sat at the old fashioned soda bar to eat. Then, it was off to the show and she loved it! She did get a little weary near the end, but seemed to really enjoy it.



The girls took their task of writing letters to Santa very seriously this year. We heard that the Old Jolly Man himself would be at Macey's one Saturday and they decided it would be the perfect opportunity to hand deliver their masterpieces.



They were so excited to see Santa and give him their letters. We got there and Bailey made it completely clear that she would happily look at him from a distance...
See those poor little teary, red eyes? I guess Matt got too close. She was trying so hard to smile, Little Sweetie.



Rachel graciously offered to hand both letters to Santa. Okay, so take a look at that cute little Santa. I swear he was probably 21 years old at most, and weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. He was so awkward and didn't quite know what to do. Sweet kid. Rachel confided to me on the way out that he was "super nice," but she was pretty certain that he was one of Santa's helpers and not the "real guy."



Another fun way we got into the Christmas spirit was attending Matt's band concert at the middle school. Rachel wore this lovely pink tiara -- because you should wear a tiara to a band concert.



The kids did a great job. Sure, it was the typical Christmas band concert and there were some kind of painful parts, but overall I was impressed. Considering that a large majority of those kids hadn't even picked up an instrument until 4 months before, I'd say they did a super job.



The next picture of Rachel was taken the day of her preschool Christmas party. I had to include it because the kid makes me giggle. I had picked out a cute little outfit for her to wear that day. Apparently she had another plan -- and had had that plan for at least a week. She wanted to wear her Santa dress, thank you very much. She, of course, chose to accessorize that not-so-subtle dress with her sparkly red shoes and a big ol' Santa had that said "Naughty" on one side and "Nice" on the other. (She did make extra sure to wear it with the "Nice" side in front. The child was obsessed with being on the "Nice List" and even prayed for it in her opening prayer in Primary one Sunday.) Okay, so it was a Christmas party and she should be able to gussy up a little for it. The part that killed me was that when she walked into preschool, not another child in the class was wearing even a Christmas shirt. Seriously, folks. There was not a stitch of festive fabric on a one of them. Now an adult would feel so incredibly over-dressed or obvious and out of place. Not our girl. She just strutted her little furry red and white self into the class and probably felt even more pleased with herself. Love that Rachel.



The kids in their Christmas church duds the Sunday before Christmas.



On Christmas Eve, my sister and her family came for our annual Christmas Eve Mexican Fiesta. So Yum! Steve's family has the tradition to celebrate Christmas Eve with a giant spread of Mexican food. He seriously gets so excited about it that he plans the menu weeks in advance. It was pretty amazing, if I do say so myself.
We exchanged little gifts with the cousins, played, and made cookies for Santa. The PJ Elf also made a sneaky visit and the kids got all decked out in their new pj's for a picture.



Here we all are in our matching pj's. (I don't remember why Bailey was so distraught.)



Rachel and Bailey leaving Santa's treat.




The next morning Christmas blew up in our house. It was wonderful, exciting, so fun, and soooo messy! Steve's dad was here from Arizona and the kids loved having their Grandpa here.
Bailey's presents mostly consisted of baby dolls and baby doll paraphenelia. She also got a little princess folding table and chairs which ended up being one of her favorite gifts. She was so funny on Christmas morning because she was just old enough to understand Christmas and the excitement. Our Bailey doesn't have the best verbal skills yet and couldn't say "Merry Christmas" so she just kept hugging everyone and saying, "Happy to you!"



Matthew asked for mainly electronic things this year. I know, it's normal, but I had a little bit of a hard time with it. One reason was because his "stash" looked so much smaller than the others' because the dollar value was higher. (He, of course, didn't think anything of that and was totally excited and grateful for his gifts.) The other reason I struggled a little was because I just plain had to accept the fact that he's old enough to not want toys anymore. I know, I just need to get over it. I did, however, buy him a big Nerf gun, so he could have just one toy...for my sake. :)



Rachel had asked for a Baby Alive doll and Barbie stuff. She was so excited to get the Barbie "Hospital Girl." She decided about a year ago that she wants to do that for one of her jobs when she grows up -- be a "hospital girl" and take care of the babies in the hospital.



Happy to you, Matt!



Happy to you, Ray Ray!



Happy to you, Ray Ray! (Again.)



Happy to you, Papa!



I wasn't kidding. She just kept hugging on everyone and Happy to you-ing. It was so sweet!

It was such a perfect day. My mom, my older sister, and her husband came to see us and spent a few hours visiting. It just turned out to be such a great day.

The week after Christmas was wonderful! Steve took some time off so he could spend it with his dad. We drove to Huntsville one day to visit the monastery which ended up being a beautiful drive and a cool visit.







The best part of the week was just being together and hanging out. We had no busy schedule or agenda just enjoyed the break from everything.



Taking Grandpa to the airport to head home was sad. He, in truth, was probably ready to get back to the warm weather in Arizona and the quiet of a house not packed with three kids on Christmas holiday high. It was a wonderful visit and went too quickly.



In our family we don't ever have the post holiday blues because Matt's birthday is in January, so we have that to look forward to as we pack away the Christmas decorations. He decided not to have a party with friends this year, but to go to dinner and bowling with the family instead. (The very unfortunate part of the story is that we still owe him his bowling trip because we nearly all got sick about that time and spent much of the month fighting it.)
The day of his b-day was a little different in that he had scouts that night and they had planned a little party for him. We did his family b-day dinner the following night, but still had cake and ice cream after scouts. (And nope, the party hats were NOT his idea.)



It was a fun day for him full of phone and visits from family and friends.



This was his last gift of the night - Monopoly for the Wii. For those who may not know, Matthew was LOVED Monopoly since he was about 4 years old. Seriously. We don't know where he got that from because neither Steve nor I really enjoy it too much. Through the years he has collected so many versions of the game that I lost track a long time ago; Monopoly Junior, the Disney version, the Sponge Bob version, the version with electronic bank cards, versions for the pc, handheld games... you get the idea. We saw this one on sale and figured it would be the perfect gift to end his day.



The next weekend he continued the celebration with our extended family in Ogden. Again, my amazingly talented sister made the cake. (Her son's b-day was this month, too.) The kids' new love is "Dispicable Me," so she made a Gru cake and Minion Twinkies. It was awesome!

Cute boy! I can't believe he's 12!

This was pretty funny. The kids sat down to eat their cake and they wouldn't open their Twinkie minions. They just carried them around and played with them. Bailey and her cousin Ollie were making them talk to each other in high, squeeky voices.

I'm not really certain where the last 12 years went, but I can tell you how much we love this kid! We, quite often, have people tell us what a great kid he is and how impressed they are with him. Truly, this boy just came good. He is an amazing person and I am so, so blessed to be his mom.

This picture of him is one of my favorites. He had just turned five and was in preschool. Shortly after Matt's 5th b-day he was diagnosed with a fairly rare blood disorder that affected his spleen and his platelet numbers. It was really frightening, especially since at first we didn't know if it was some sort of hemophelia or even possibly leukemia. Thankfully, after a very long night filled with tears and constant prayer, he was diagnosed with ITP. We spent the next year and a half watching him closely, monitoring his blood, and hoping that he would slip into the little window of children whose disorder corrects itself. Long story short, after the year and a half his platelets had gone back to normal. We consider it nothing short of a miracle. :)

So, back to preschool and the drippy clown pictured below. For school the theme was "Circus." The kids took a stuffed animal to train (hence, the monkey hanging on his arm) and worked on a little circus act. It was very cute. The day of the performance, the teacher painted their little clown faces and they made big bowties of paper and clown noses from egg cartons to complete the look. Well, we walked home from preschool in the pouring rain and I took this photo when we got home. I adore this picture because it so typifies my Matthew during that time. He was wearing one of his favorite shirts which was from Primary Childrens' Hospital -- he got it on one of his many visits to the hospital. I love that his clown makeup is all runny and drippy from the rain and his hair is matted to his head. The part that melts my heart is his giant, ear-to-ear smile. Even though his little life had been turned upside down, his little boy activities had been severely limited, he was constantly being subjected to uncomfortable blood tests, and he often didn't feel well; the sweet boy had a huge, genuine grin pasted on his face. I love this boy!

Even though I'm still kind of struggling that my baby just turned 12, I sure am proud of the kid he is and the person he's becoming. I am so grateful for him and his incredible spirit. Happy 12th Birthday, Matthew. We love you!!

This last picture was Valentines Day. We gave each of the girls a new dress (which, by the way, are fabulous, spinny dancing dresses) and Matt got some new headphones. Rachel had a little Valentines party at preschool and the girls delivered Valentines to some of their little neighbor friends. We made a really great dinner -- and that was about the extent of our celebration. I sure love this crazy little family of mine!!