Most Important

Funny, rich, smart, good looking???? Remember when we were teen-agers and we would think about the most important trait in a future spouse? (I think we had a lot of YW lessons on that topic.) Anyway, I now know what mine is....hard working. That's a picture of my grandpa above. He is the hardest working person I know...actually, he might be a close second to my grandma, but he's still one of a kind.

I am finding that I admire that more and more. I mean, I know it's always been important to me, and I've always gravitated toward high-energy, get things done kind of people, but it seems to be even more important to me now. I just love people that work hard and try hard, even if they aren't the best.

On a related note, here is a photo of Amelia with her cheer bowl trophy. She worked VERY hard, and my uncoordinated little girl, is actually pretty darn coordinated now!

Answered Prayers

Isn't it amazing how God anwers prayers that we haven't even asked yet?????? Or, we ask a general thing like: "protect my family" but we have no idea how He is going to do it. Seriously...I am dealing with what I think is an unusual child, but maybe some of you can relate: Mikayla is so crazy and fun and outgoing. She makes people laugh and is EXTREMELY loud, and laughs ALL the time. HOWEVER, when it comes to being in large groups or even just groups where she doesn't know people, she holds my hand with a death-grip and is so afraid. She clings to me, and it's crazy. At the last Mother's Day Tea at her school, her teacher had to hold her when it was her turn to walk the red carpet. It took her seven months to walk into her gymnastics class without the teacher holding her, or mom resorting to threats and bribes. It took her a month to not cry before ballet. (BTW, I would have pulled her out, but she loved it so much once she was in there.)

Sooooooo, I just had accepted her for who she was and left it at that, but I truly feel like God led the family in a different direction this year. I think it's a good thing that I'm not teaching at their school, and Mikayla finally has something that is all her own. There is no one else in the family at her preschool, and no one even knows she has a big sister! I never planned on leaving the preschool last year, but because of circumstances out of my control, I did, and it could have never worked out better than this, which makes me realize that God is always watching out for our little family.

Yesterday Mikayla had her school play. I came loaded with the cameras (I dropped the video camera in a puddle on the way into the school and broke it) and Mik was like a different kid. Right before the show started, I saw the teacher kneeling down and whispering something to Mikayla. In my head I was saying, "Oh, how sweet, she realizes that Mik is shy in front of adults and she's preparing her..." Little did I know, a little girl in her class had just accidentally head-butted another boy and was not going to be able to play her part and the teacher was asking Mik to step in and play both parts. So the next thing I know, Mik is announcing the play, and playing the part of the gloves and the pumpkin (I knew she was the pumpkin, but that was it). She laughed and was loud and giggled, and loved every minute of it. She even knew the lines of the gloves, ("Clap, Clap"). I was one proud mama.

When I was 16

When I was sixteen (1990), very few of my friends had cars. I wanted my own car bad. One weekend we droved down to St. George. My granddad (who has since passed on) insisted that I learn how to drive a stick. It was seriously the hardest thing ever for me. We drove to this old abandoned road just past the Nevada border in a 1986 Volkswagen Dasher, and then he said, "Okay, we trade." So, I traded places, and I was horrible, and he was patient. And I struggled, and he was patient. And I got frustrated, and he was patient. My granddad wasn't always a patient man, but I remember vividly how patient he was that day.

Anyway, I got the hang of it, and he let me drive back to Bloomington. I remember being so happy to be on I-15...none of that stop and go business. Anyway, when we pulled into the driveway, he said, "Now that you know how to drive it, it's yours."

This isn't a picture of MY car. I'm too lazy to pull out my scrapbook and scan the picture in. But, it looked similar to this, except it was silver and a DIESEL. It was the coolest car ever. I think we had a record of fitting 18 kids in there coming home from a game one night. Anyway, it's a great memory I have of my granddad, and of high school.

Annoying Moms

Okay, so I know I can totally be an annoying mom. I think I annoyed the heck out of Amelia's teacher today at Parent/Teacher conference when I told her that I thought some sight words should be phonetic words, and I could understand why "one" was a sight word, but why was "go" when it made perfect sense to sound it out? Anyway, I digress.

I have PMS, and I get easily annoyed, so I'm going to vent to all ten of you who read my blog and three who dare comment. Mikayla is in ballet with the most annoying moms in the world. Mikayla ended up not being able to get in a preschool that has school on Tuesdays, so she ended up in a ballet class with a bunch of girls on Tuesdays who are homeschooled and have older siblings who are homeschooled. (I know that because they drag them all along for the hour and a half lesson. I'm sure it's counted as a field trip somewhere.) It's also all the moms who whip their breasts out and feed their children who are almost two years old. I am NOT exaggerating. Okay, I can understand that to a point, but then the one mom comes in with a 9 month old, cradling her baby and giving it a bottle and the moms turned their backs on her....I promise. It was crazy. They wouldn't say one word to her. So I asked her what her baby's name was and told her how beautiful he was and whatever, and then two more moms squeezed in on the bench and started to nurse their kids just to show her what she "should" be doing.

Okay, so I nursed Amelia for 12 months, and Mik for ten, and I mainly pumped bottles because it was easier, and I didn't find that I bonded more or loved my kid more or whatever. I think they were both alllergic to formula and it was cheap, and whatever. I never let them hold their own bottle, because I liked to feed them and snuggle with them, but I sure as heck didn't care if someone else's baby was holding their own bottle at six months. What is it with that mentality??????

Then, they all start whipping out their baby slings....they are all talking about how many kids you can truck around a grocery store without actually putting any of them in a buggy (shopping cart, for those of you out of Georgia). I tried to interject my opinion about the world's best baby sling (lucky-baby.com) but they wouldn't even listen...I mean, who was I???? I didn't have a baby in it at the moment. I tried to tell them that my "baby" (who is four, but still loves to be in her sling) is proof enough that it is the best sling, but I didn't get a chance. I rattled off the website and then mumbled something about leaving to find a frame with a big mat so that the my older daughter's cheerleading team could all sign around their picture for the coach and left.

When I came back to pick up Mik, the poor mom who doesn't breastfeed, was sitting all alone, and all the other moms had their babies to their chests with their backs to her. (BTW, this is a SMALL waiting room, so to put your back to someone is hard work.)

Okay, so what's the big deal...seriously? Do you know what kind of mom I'm talking about? Why does it have to be such a big deal? Why do some of these moms have to be "poster moms" for breastfeeding and homeschooling and carrying their kids in slings? Why can't they just do it and shut up about it? I don't announce to the world that I only give my kids water to drink (yes, no milk and no juice!!!! gasp!), don't really care if they bathe only twice a week, and give them at least three desserts a day.

Am I crazy? Do you know who I'm talking about? They seriously annoy me.

Molly

Last Friday Mikayla and I ran to the Girl Scout store to get all the uniforms for the girls. She found this adorable doll that she named Molly. She carried Molly around for four days straight, until Molly was tragically left at the park. For three days Mikayla would yell, "Molly, come out, come out wherever you are!" and "Molly, if you don't come out now, I'm going to eat your treats and play with your toys." The poor kid thought she was hiding.

I hated to drive all the way back to the Girl Scout store to replace $15 Molly, so I called to have them ship another doll to me. They were so sweet when I told her the story. She called me back later and said that another lady was driving to my city the next day and would bring the doll with her, and I could just pick her up.

So, the next morning, I called my home phone from my cell phone and said things like, "You did??? You really found Molly! Where was she???? We can pick her up right now!" Mikayla was so happy.

Now, my story could be over then, but this is the point of it all: When we went to the GS office, that lady went above and beyond her call of duty! She told Mikayla that Molly had jumped on the back of her car and had gone to Girl Scout camp for a few nights and even met a friend. She then preceded to pull out another doll that she had brought along with Molly and gave them to her. She had taken Molly and her friend out of the packaging, so it looked like the old Molly. She told Mikayla that she heard giggling and turned around and those dolls were just partying it up, but now they wanted to go home.

Mikayla just hugged and hugged Molly and then hugged the lady and told her that Nana was going to buy her a kitty necklace too. (I know, but that was what she wanted to do to be nice back to the lady!) It was awesome. The lady told me that all of this had just made her day. Now Mikayla might think that dolls talk and walk and all of that, but there will come a day when she learns that they don't, and that makes me sad.

My Wedding Day

Oh, I love it that I have time to reminisce...and also post something new so Dave R. and Chellie can stop bugging me.

Where did you meet your husband? We met on the first day of school our second year at Dixie College in September of 1993. I was friends with his sister Chelie our first year while Dave was on the mish in Argentina. She brought him over to my dorm but DID NOT want us to really hook up. That became a problem later. Anyway, Dave was cute, but a little nerdy. He kept mixing up Spanish and English and seemed like he was starting over with everything social. (The sign of a good missionary, I'm sure.) I have to say though, very early on, I told my roommates that I had met the man I was going to marry.

Where was your first date? I am getting a little confused....I can't remember if it was country dancing or miniature golf or both, but then I remember going to Domino's and Dave buying a pizza. I still had a weird complex about eating on dates, so I refused to eat, saying, "I'm really not hungry." I found out later he was annoyed (Dave has never liked a girly-girl, which is also why I hid the fact that I was a Rebelette for a LONG time), and he was pissed (Dave would have never spent MONEY on something if it wasn't going to be used!) Anyway, we went to a park and I watched him eat, and it was fun. We laughed and never ran out of things to talk about. He was a nice boy, and I spent my first year in college around a lot of boys, but none were very nice!!!!!

First kiss? Okay, I'm a loser. I know the first kiss happened at the doorstep of my dorm, and I know we bumped teeth. BUT, what I really remember is Valentine's Day 2004. That was the first time we said "I love you." I was Relief Society President, and was totally stressed about a talk I was giving. Dave planned this amazing night. We went hiking up to the red rocks and when we got there, he had a whole picnic in the back of his car which was up toward the top. He gave me a teddy bear (I still have it) and flowers and we ate. (I dared eat by this point.) When we went back home, I told him I loved him, and he reciprocated. I found out later that he was mad I said it first because he was going to. The next day he left a rose on my car at work wishing me luck on my talk at ward conference.

Did you have a long or short courtship/engagement? Are you kidding me? As compared to Utah standards (and many others' as well), it was an eternity!!!! We met in 1993. We were engaged in May of 1995 and were married in August of 1996. Let's just say, Dave is a planner. We both needed to have our degrees under the belt, and then it was okay!

Where did you get engaged? My favorite cousin Dan was just getting home from his mission. We drove down to Parowan for his homecoming and then headed south to St. George. By this time we had lived in SLC for almost two years, but St. George was where we fell in love. I took him to my Stout grandparents' house, where he was introduced. BTW, Grandma Sue didn't welcome him with open arms. I remember very vividly that she said, "David, I am Mrs. Stout and this is Dr. Stout." Anyway, we cruised up to the other grandparents' house where no one was home and we changed and grabbed our bikes off the car bike rack. Dave seemed pretty adamant that we go on a mountain bike trail. We biked the ten or so miles into St. George's base of the red cliffs and then biked up the red cliffs to the same spot of that Valentine's day almost two years before. He got down on one knee, and pulled the ring out of his sweaty pocket. The first words out of my mouth were, "Holy Sh%&!!!" followed by, "YES!!!!" I don't even remember the bike ride home. I was so happy. There were at least ten occasions before this point where I KNEW he was going to pop the question, but never did...and then he does it on a sweaty, Memorial weekend at my cousin's mission homecoming!

Where did you get married? We were married in the Salt Lake Temple. It was a perfect day. I was so worried that it would rain, and it ended up being the hottest day on record for the summer. I hated the fact that my mom and dad sat outside, but my mom's three sisters were there and all of Dave's family. My Uncle Jim sat in for my dad at the temple, and my Bishop from the years before where I served as RS President showed up as a surprise. I felt loved and happy, but was sad that every member of my immediate family wasn't there. My dear cousins seemed to know that I needed them though, because every one of them traveled to be there and to make sure I wasn't alone!

How did the reception go? (I think I could just copy and paste all of Jessi's answer on this one)...After our sealing in the temple we had a wedding breakfast at the Lion House. My friend Jennie played the piano, and my BFF Dave (not MY Dave, but my high school Dave, who would have been my Maid of Honor if that was allowed), and my other BFF Jayme and so many others were there. All of my cousins and aunts and uncles were there (from mom's side), along with all of Dave's family. Our reception was on the tenth floor of the Joseph Smith Building. It was beautiful and peaceful, but to be honest, I wish it would have been a little more rowdy. Why in the world did we not dance????

How was the honeymoon? FABULOUS! We went to Vegas, Baby. It was during the 1996 Olympics, and we went to shows and gambled a little and hung out by the pool. My best memory is when Dave was standing naked at the window twenty or so floors above the pool, INSISTING that no one could see him. Then, to his surprise, everyone down there starts pointing and laughing. We realized later that he had been quite the exhibitionist! They all had a perfect view into our room.

As for the ring, I want to say a few words on this. Dave is truly the most frugal man I have ever met. It must have KILLED him to fork over the money for something so frivolous as an adornment on a hand. However, he did the math and used his three month"s salary (he was working as a telemarketer about 15 hours a week) during his last undergrad year, and bought me my ring. He picked it out himself. I had shown him other rings that I wanted, and this one was not one that I showed him. BUT, I love it. Eleven years later? I love it. I look at my friends' blinding rocks and hear them talk about them, and I flash mine proudly. We were young and poor, and so in love, and when I look at my ring, I remember we are older, and not as poor, but still so in love, and I will never trade it or want anything more. (Now a big rock for my right hand is okay, but I will never replace THIS ring.) :)

And, I think that's about it...eleven years later, and I wake up every day knowing that I married the man that I was meant to be with. He is my soul mate and my best friend. There is no one else on earth that I would rather be with...and he puts up with me very nicely.