Sunday, September 21, 2008

So I'm 30... part 1

Today is my birthday and I am officially the big 30! Honestly I'm not feeling it, I don't know why.
But seriously, it has been a fantastic weekend and my friends and Husband have made my transition from 29 to 30 AWESOME! Thank you all & you know who you are. I love you and I feel truly blessed to be associated with such remarkable people.
Since birthdays are like a New Year, Hans & I have decided to start some new healthy traditions and it started on the eve of my birthday. So, on Saturday morning Hans & I ran the 7th annual NROTC 5k/10k. (I ran the 5 & Hans ran the 10.) It was not easy, but we did it, Hans with his MP3 player & Ira from This American Life & I had my sweet friend Stacey Creer as my official motivational speaker and moral supporter. (I am now positive that she is the nicest person in the world, bar none.) Stacey, Thank you 100 times over for running with me, I seriously, I mean definitely could not have done it without you.

Funny thing. As we were driving to our race, I told Hans that it would be fitting for me to get 666 as my number. Notice I got 333. So what does that mean?

It was so rewarding to see the kids run towards us as we were finishing or 3.35 mile.
(Okay, I was told a 5k was 3.1, but the NROTC "let" us go 3.35 instead, yea I wanted to vomit & pass out that last 1/4 mile.)

Hans sprinted the last 1/4 mile of his 10k. He truly is the Bionic Man!

Hans was trying out different post race poses, and this one helped him look buff & strong in the pectorals and arms, yet still made him look taller, thinner and more ballerina-ish. (Yes, I think he was standing in 1st position.)

Our children had their own 1/4 mile race and sweet Amelia being the Amazon woman that she is, ran bare foot. (that's my girl.)

Thursday, September 11, 2008

September Morn

We had a fantastically busy summer and as of Sept. 2nd, my boys are finally back in school. They were not exactly excited to get back on a sleeping (7:45 p.m.) and waking (6 a.m.) schedule or having to do home or school work of any kind, but the free juice, doughnuts & espresso, (offered by our student housing community) Tuesday morning helped them to get energized at least for one day. (Please note that neither Conrad or Riley had a shot of espresso, that would have been pretty funny, but I'm sure their teachers would have thought otherwise.)
Riley & Conrad's First day of school wouldn't be complete without tie dye, jeans & new shoes.

Sunday after church is pretty lazy at our house, if we're not napping, we lying around reading or posing like supermodels ready for a candid.

Ever since Riley found out that he could get a dollar for a tooth, he has been diligently wiggling & yanking at his chompers & finally it "paid off." I pulled that puppy out just before they had to go to school.

My little Riley is growing up.

I had to take 10 pictures & most of them came out blurry because I was laughing at all of his silly faces. what a ham. I love you Riley!

Amelia wanted to get in on the picture taking action

Isn't she lovely?

Sunday, September 7, 2008

"Information Please"

In Relief Society, this past Sunday, I gave a lesson entitled "Who is our Neighbor?" The major focus of my message was the parable of the Good Samaritan, found in Luke 10:25-37. I discussed how we, as Latter Day Saints can love our neighbors as our selves; an overwhelming commandment to fulfill, but there are such beautiful blessings we can receive, if we accept the Challenge that Christ has given us. As I was trying to compile my notes, I came across Pres. Thomas S. Monson's article in the 2003 Ensign entitled, The Way of the Master. In it he related this story. I cry every time. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

“Information, Please”

Long years ago I was touched by a story which illustrated love of neighbor between a small boy named Paul and a telephone operator he had never met. These were the days many will remember with nostalgia but which a new generation will never experience.

Paul related the story: “When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember that the shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but I used to listen with fascination when Mother would talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was ‘Information, Please,’ and there was nothing she did not know. ‘Information, Please’ could supply anybody’s number and the correct time.

“I learned that if I stood on a stool, I could reach the telephone. I called ‘Information, Please’ for all sorts of things. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my arithmetic, too.

“Then there was the time that Petey, our pet canary, died. I called ‘Information, Please’ and told her the sad story. She listened and then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. ‘Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers, feet up, on the bottom of the cage?’ I asked.

“She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, ‘Paul, always remember that there are other worlds in which to sing.’ Somehow I felt better.

“All this took place in a small town near Seattle. Then we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. ‘Information, Please’ belonged to that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying to call her. The memories of those childhood conversations never really left me; often in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

“Later, when I went west to college, my plane made a stop in Seattle,” Paul continued. “I called ‘Information, Please,’ and when, miraculously, I heard that familiar voice, I said to her, ‘I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?’

“ ‘I wonder,’ she said, ‘if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls.’ I told her how often I had thought of her over the years, and I asked if I could call her again when I came back west.

“ ‘Please do,’ she said. ‘Just ask for Sally.’

“Only three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, ‘Information,’ and I asked for Sally. ‘Are you a friend?’ the woman asked.

“ ‘Yes, a very old friend,’ I replied.

“ ‘Then I’m sorry to have to tell you. Sally has only been working part-time the last few years because she was ill. She died five weeks ago.’ But before I could hang up, she said, ‘Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?’

“ ‘Yes,’ I responded.

“ ‘Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down. Here it is—I’ll read it. Tell him I still say there are other worlds in which to sing. He’ll know what I mean.’

“I thanked her and hung up,” said Paul. “I did know what Sally meant.”

Sally, the telephone operator, and Paul, the boy—the man—were in reality good Samaritans to each other.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Watery eyes

So I think I'm allergic to the bunnies! I began breaking the news to the boys this morning.
"Boys, I think that I'm allergic to the bunnies, and we may have to get rid of them. I'm sneezing and my eyes are watering."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I don't have this problem when I'm not home."

Riley (with really wide eyes to punctuate a new discovery):
"You know what Dad? I get watery eyes when I poop."