Movie Night

Last night, everyone went to bed early.

Except this kid--

--and myself. We decided to have a Mommy/Daughter Movie Night.

She was giddy with excitement.

We watched this show--

--and ate lots of this--

--and stayed up past either of our bedtimes.

At one point, I asked her, in all seriousness, what I would do without her.

She paused in thought, and responded with a characteristic giggle, "Wear a hat."

She's growing up too fast, and girlhood doesn't last for long. In a few short years, she won't seek out my company or get giddy over the simple pleasures of being at home.

I can't stand to think about it.

I think we need some more Mommy/Daughter Movie Nights.

Christmas Gifts

Today was a busy day. I now know why "ma in her kerchief and [pa] in [his] cap had just settled down for a long winter's nap." They were exhausted from all the Christmas preparations.

The cards have been sent, the shopping done. The pies are made, the Christmas breakfast has been started, the gifts are wrapped, the house is clean. The story of the Nativity has been read and reenacted, the children have been tucked in, and the house is quiet and mostly ready for tomorrow.

I am ready for our winter's nap, which will not be as long as I'd like.

Yet in my mind, all day I have been remembering this favorite quote, by Spencer W. Kimball, who served as President of the LDS Church in the late 1970s & early 1980s:

"He [Christ] was always the giver, seldom the recipient. Never did he give shoes, hose, or a vehicle, never did he give perfume, a shirt, or a fur wrap. His gifts were of such a nature that the recipient could hardly exchange or return the value. His gifts were rare ones: eyes to the blind, ears to the deaf, and legs to the lame; cleanliness to the unclean, wholeness to the infirm, and breath to the lifeless. His gifts were opportunity to the downtrodden, freedom to the oppressed, light in the darkness, forgiveness to the repentant, hope to the despairing. His friends gave him shelter, food, and love. He gave them of himself, his love, his service, his life. The wise men brought him gold and frankincense. He gave them and all their fellow mortals resurrection, salvation, and eternal life. We should strive to give as he gave. To give of oneself is a holy gift."

This year, as in years past, Brian and I will not exchange gifts. At this point in our financial life, we deflect all holiday spending toward our children.

Yet I have been the recipient of many gifts--"holy gifts," as President Kimball calls them. Especially in 2008. So many people have offered service in my behalf, particularly around the birth of my twins last spring, and as recently as two weeks ago, after my appendectomy.

I have been given blessings at the hands of priesthood holders.

I have been given more meals than I deserve.

I have been given numerous concerned phone calls.

I have been given childcare, both in my home and in others' homes.

I have been given help with running errands.

I have been given help with responsibilities, such as teaching co-op preschool or taking my children to their lessons.

I have been given many hours of service in my home, such as help with endless laundry, cleaning, cooking, lifting babies, bathing babies, holding babies, and so on.

I have been given shoulders to lean on and lots of hugs.

Some of this service has taken place in the middle of the night or in the wee hours of the morning.

Some of this service has been spontaneous, and some has been scheduled far in advance.

Some of it has come from elderly women, and some from friends around my age.

I am overwhelmed just thinking about it all.

This year, I have been a recipient of the best gifts--holy gifts. I am mindful of each of them, and tomorrow--on Christmas Day--as I watch my children open their gifts, I will be thanking Him for sending those gifts to me, in the form of angels disguised as friends. And in coming days, I hope I can offer some holy gifts of my own.

Blog Help

Can any of you blog afficionados tell me WHY the spacing on my blog gets all funky after pictures are uploaded, and HOW to fix it?

AND...can any of you also tell me why I can't cut and paste pictures after they are uploaded? If I want them to be in a certain order, I have to upload them in reverse order.

Does anyone else have this problem?

Our Anniversary Celebration--

--was wonderful!

Except I forgot my camera. That was not wonderful.

On Friday afternoon we drove up to D.C. and checked into our hotel. The cute lady behind the desk asked why we were visiting, and when I told her it was our tenth anniversary, she upgraded our room to the nicest suite in the (already very nice) hotel.

Then we got all dressed up for a night on the town.

We ate at a steak & seafood place downtown. The price=$$$$; the quality=$. Hmmm.

BUT THEN--THE HIGHLIGHT!

We had tickets to go see this show:


It was divinely wonderful. I loved every minute. The DANCING was phenomenal. One number was so beautiful, I was in tears. I admit, whenever I see dancing like what was in this show, I wonder what "might have been"--even as I am grateful, so grateful, that what "might have been" did not come to pass. You can take the dancer out of dance, but not dance out of the dancer.

Moving on. Brian had his iPhone and took a quick picture of me, pre-performance, calling home to check in on the kiddos.

And then he snapped another one of us during the intermssion.

About ten minutes into the second act, as one of the actors onstage said, "Is that a cop?," lights began to swirl and flash throughout the theater, and sirens started to wail. We in the audience thought that the lights and sirens were a natural extension of the scene. It took a few moments for the audience to register that the commotion was not a part of the performance. Then, a voice came over the loudspeaker: "There is a fire emergency in the building. Please exit the building, and do not use the elevator."

The actors kept right on going, oblivious to the fact that the audience was leaving the premises.

We stood on the streets of D.C. for thirty minutes, watching as the fire trucks and crews arrived.

Many members of the audience left, assuming the show would NOT go on.

We waited around, hoping, wondering, curious about what would happen next.

Finally, and sooner than we expected, we were allowed back in the building. We were cold and slightly damp from the mist outside, but no worse for the wear. And the show did go on, picking up from right where it left off.

It was phenomenal. Food for the soul.

We returned to our room late that night to find a surprise spread of gourmet cheese, crackers, and fruit awaiting, along with a bottle of wine, which has been happily donated to the residents' New Year celebrations next week.

And last but not least, on Saturday morning, we were able to do a session at the D.C. Temple--another real treat, true food for the soul. It was the perfect capstone to a fabulous 24 hours.

We returned home Saturday afternoon to five children and their faithful aunt and cousin, who had taken good care of them.

We are already looking forward to next year.

Ten Years

Ten years ago today.

The average temperature in Logan, Utah that day was 9 degrees. BRRRR...

My mom stood beside me and threw my coat over my shoulders between each picture.

Brian, freezing in the cold, turned purple.
Our parents have forgiven us for getting married six days before Christmas. (Actually, they were really good about it.)

We got married at 3:30 p.m. in the Logan temple. Brian's beloved grandfather, now deceased, was our officiator. After the ceremony and a dinner with family and close friends, we drove to Yellowstone National Park for our honeymoon.

We were so very young. We had no idea what an adventure we were about to embark on.

Sometimes I wonder, had we known then what we know now, if we would have had a little more hesitation.

I doubt it.

I can hardly believe it's been a decade.

Two people.

Ten years.

Five children.

Five addresses.

Four degrees.

Three cars.

Four computers.

One non-human dishwasher.

About fifteen church callings.

Countless movie nights, date nights, game nights, and quiet nights.

Infinite memories.

Marrying Brian was the best (and luckiest!) decision I have ever made. I didn't appreciate that significant fact at the time, but now I do.

Thank you, Brian, for choosing me, and for your endless humor, patience, kindness, and goodness. You are truly the most remarkable person I know. I love you.

Christmas Happiness

Of all the things I look forward to at this time of year, this one is right at the top of my list:

I LOVE getting Christmas cards from friends of yonder day. Today there were six waiting in the mailbox. I got all giddy when I saw them. Each night during the holiday season, my girls tape the newest cards to our "card wall" in our kitchen. By the time Christmas arrives, the wall is fairly covered.

I have been blessed all my life with extraordinary friends. I am fortunate that many of them keep in contact, even if it is only once a year. I love that card wall and what it has come to represent--lasting friendship and good memories. Life just doesn't get much better than that.

Our Week

The last week consisted of drugs, sleep, and lots of outside help (more on the help in a future post). It was a pretty quiet week. I wore pj's and no makeup for eight days straight. I can't remember a single time in my life where I have literally been inside and laid up for an entire week. I think I might have enjoyed it if I hadn't had the kids to take care of.

But, in spite of the quiet, there have been a few noteworthy moments.

Our sweet little Madeline uttered her first word. Of the infinite number of words she will say in her lifetime, her first word was, "Uh oh." Same as Emma.

Little Isaac now climbs stairs. So does Madeline. Last night I was changing Madeline's diaper, and Isaac crawled away. Moments later, I heard a thud and a wail. He had crawled upstairs and quickly fallen back down. Survivng two mobile infants is going to be exciting.

Today, the girls had their piano recital. (The woman in the middle is their wonderful piano teacher.)

They did splendidly.

Last night, on my first day out of the house, we got to go see this:

It was a real treat--my first circus...as well as my kids. Can you believe I have never been to a circus? I admit, the animal stuff wasn't terribly entertaining. I guess I didn't find their tricks amusing; instead, I found myself wishing they could be free to live according to their instincts instead of performing unnatural and unnecessary tricks for people. I came home and looked online to read about the treatment of circus animals. Very conflicting reports.

But the people in the circus were amazing. I loved it, and I found myself wondering over and over, throughout the event, what kind of person joins the circus. Truly--who are these people? What are their lives like? I wanted to read life sketches on every performer in the arena, and I wanted to know what their lives are like, living on the road and performing and being a part of this huge troupe. But then, I always get caught up in such things, and I can never just enjoy the show.

Finally, we are saying goodbye to this blessed friend:

This development is noteworthy only to parents of twins. This "Double Snap-n-Go" stroller has been a lifesaver for the last nine months. An absolute lifesaver. Our twins, unfortunately, have outgrown their carriers, and thus they have outgrown this stroller. It was my little "train" to push around--and it certainly wasn't easy to use for "strolling," but--WOW!--it was convenient.

Goodbye, Double Snap-n-Go. I will miss you profoundly.

Appendicitis & Appendix Removal

I don't know why the spacing on this post is all funky. I tried to fix it, but no luck. Sorry!

The Top Ten Moments:

10. The Ill-Fated Phone Call. I called my doctor's office during the daytime, long before we suspected appendicitis, only to be put on hold, and then hung up on. Assuming I had been hung up on by accident, I called back right away, but the phones had quickly been turned over to voice mail for the lunch hour. Apparently the secretary does not answer calls, including for those waiting on hold, at 11:59 a.m. Her lunch is waiting.

9. The Grand Entrance. I limped into the Emergency Department at 10 p.m. Friday night, and two people immediately asked me if I needed a wheelchair.

8. The Father: My dad also had surgery, on Friday morning. He was three floors below me in the hospital. I timed the appendicitis so very well, considering my mom would be helping my dad quite a bit through his recovery, and considering my husband would be on call for the next five days straight.

7. The Drugs. Aaaahhh. Bye bye, excruciating pain.

6. The CT Scan. A man's incredibly serious & deep voice in the loudspeaker sounded just like how I imagined Big Brother in Orwell's 1984. "Breathe. In."--"Hold. Your. Breath."--"Breathe. Out."

5. The Exam. There's nothing like having two of your husband's colleagues get a full view of your baby-scarred stomach. My stomach ain't too pretty anymore; long gone are the bikini possibilities. Humbling, so humbling to have them see it--even if they are doctors.

4. The Husband. Brian, awake since 3 a.m. Friday morning, continued to answer pages and check on patients throughout the night. At least he needed to be at the hospital anyway--we could now hang out together there. It was like a little midnight date.

3. The First Neighbor. The man in the room adjacent to me in the E.D. was colorful, to say the least. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" "I NEED TO PEE, I TELL YOU!" "WHY YOU DOIN' THAT?" "OWWWW!!!" "&*%$." At one point, I asked Brian if we should lock our door, for fear he would stagger in and shoot us. By the time I was wheeled out of the E.D., there were four police officers chillin' outside his room.


2. The Second Neighbor. Post-surgery, I was put in a shared room on the eighth floor to rest for a few hours. My mom--on her way to visit my dad, also in the hospital--stopped by for a brief visit. We were highly entertained by the visitors to my roommate, who was a very sick elderly woman. "Mom, take your teeth out. Mom, mom, your teeth. Time to clean them. Take them out. Make sure you take your top ones out first." [long pause] "OK, Mom, here are your teeth. They're all clean; time to put them back in."


1. The Bathroom Incident. Brian was in a call room, catching a little shut-eye, and I was in my room in the E.D., waiting to have a CT scan. I had been drinking a contrast solution and receivng IV fluid for a while, and I needed to use the potty. In a big way. But there were a few obstacles: 1) I was alone and in a lot of pain, 2) The lights in my room were turned off, 3) My IV fluid was on a stationary pole, and--after several attempts--I realized I was in too much pain to reach the IV bag hanging up high, and 4) I had no nurse's call button nearby to call for help.

Time to take matters into my own hands. I heaved myself to the edge of the bed and lunged for the door, but I failed to reach it. OWWW--pain galore!!! I sat at the foot of the bed for a while and prayed for someone to come in. No one came. The situation was getting dire. I looked around for a basin. None nearby. I mustered my courage and lifted my right leg, hoping my toe could reach the door latch and lift it open. No luck--and more agonizing waves of pain.

So there I sat, in the dark, in my hospital gown, clutching my side, praying for my bladder, and calling out to The Great Beyond: "Help! Help? Someone! Help!" Finally, outside, I heard a blessed voice say, "I think that's Room 44." At last! Someone heard my plea. I was freed from the tether of the IV pole, and I staggered to the bathroom, which was, fortunately, next door.

Appendix

This post is placed by Jen's husband.

Jennifer is in the operating room now at the University of Virginia Hospital being treated for appendicitis. We expect her to do very well.

I thought some of her readers might like to leave comments here for her to read as she recovers. Thanks.

Brian

Lessons in Religion

Apparently we need to work with Nathan on some basic gospel stories.

Like this one:


(That's a really poor picture of the Nativity, in case you were wondering. But probably you weren't.)

Tonight, for Family Home Evening, we had a brief lesson on the Christmas story. The discussion went something as follows:

Dad: "Nathan, where was Jesus born?"

Nathan: "Um, in outer space."

Dad: "Baby Jesus was born in a stable and placed in a manger."

Nathan: "Yeah, he's turning white!"

[We then put together our nativity set, piece by piece, trying to give life to the story.]

Mom: "Nathan, put the wise man by the stable."

Nathan: "But where's the foolish man?"