Kate and Mr. X

I never want to forget how I have felt about Kate this week.

I have frequently thought how much I love her sweet nature and kind ways. This week, on two separate occasions, adults in her life have reached out to me to say things like, "Your child is so incredibly kind and good." I have felt so touched that Heavenly Father has trusted a coarse person like myself with such a sweet soul. On Easter, Grandma Go-Go (my mom's mom), fell at my mom's house and cut her head open. In the moment of panic and care for Go-Go, I failed to realize that Kate had seen everything; I thought she had been so busy with Easter eggs that the worst of it had gone over her head. Go-Go, Bruce, and my mom spent several hours on Easter Sunday in the emergency room while she received a cat scan, an x-ray, and 12 stitches in her forehead. Grandma was sent home a little worse for wear but overall okay. It was only after I tucked Kate in bed that night that I heard her crying quietly in her room. I went to her to find out what was wrong, and she was still so worried about her great-grandma. We talked about that, and I was so touched by the depth of the feelings Kate had for Go-Go. I pray that nothing in this life ever takes away her ability to care and feel for others.

The morning after, on my way home from taking Kate to school, I saw a little boy running to school. He was bouncing a basketball in front of him, he was running as fast as he could, his hood had blown off and was flapping behind him, and he had the biggest smile and a look of pure joy on his face. It was only as I got closer that I recognized him. It was, as I shall say, Mr. X. (I have enough readership in the neighborhood that I'm not even going to identify by first initial. Sorry.) Mr. X comes from a pretty tough family situation. I only have seen the tip of the iceberg, but it will suffice to say that this child has probably spent a decent portion of his life afraid, sad, or confused. He recently knocked on my door on his way home from school to ask me for help because some boys had been spitting on him. I remember in the moment, as I phoned his home, feeling so sad for this child who seemed almost destined for a life of trials. I find it hard to express how emotional I was when I recognized that Mr. X was this delighted and happy boy running towards the school. I learned a life lesson in an instant: No matter how great our pain or how deep our sadness, it is truly temporary. Maybe this moment of pure joy was only a moment or an aberration for Mr X, but HE HAD IT. Happiness is truly available to all.

Easter

The Easter Bunny Found Us.

New Dresses Make Kiki Really, Really Mad.

We Hung Out With George While Merrilee Took Go-Go to the ER For 12 Stitches.

The Easter Egg Hunt Was Wild and Crazy.

Dan Is Jealous of My Giant Snakes.

Let's Hear It For The Girls

This one treats my mom like gold.

These ones are why my husband turned out so nice.


These ones knew me back when skinny jeans were in the first time.

This one has never forgotten my birthday.

This one watches all my same TV shows and likes all my same shopping haunts.

The one on the left turned my brother into a civilized human being.

If I die, either one of these two can raise my kids.

This one will tell you if you have one hairstyle coming but a different hairstyle going.

These two have gone on so many early morning runs with me that I'm starting to feel a little guilty about it.

The blond one loves my brother so much it makes my heart hurt a little just thinking about it.

Ask one of these ladies how to cook a decent roast or make good gravy.

One of my favorite things about my life is the women in it. Don't get me wrong: I like guys. My husband in particular. But my life would not be the same without women. I've been on watch the past few months and the evidence is everywhere that my life is constantly enriched by the women I'm surrounded by.
I used to be one of those people who said, "Oh, girls are so petty!" (Or so shallow, or such gossips, or whatever). I tried to tell myself that guys made better friends. They don't, for the record. At some point in my life, my attitude about my fellow women was changed for the better, and this I can state with certainty: Women aren't petty. Women aren't shallow. Women aren't gossips. (Okay, maybe a few are, but no more than men and they are all ruining it for the rest of us.) I worked at Victoria's Secret for nearly a decade, and I think I might reasonably argue that if anything would attract pettiness, gossip, and the most shallow among us it would be the bright pink lights of a Victoria's Secret sign. Only it didn't. I spent that ten years surrounded by some of the brightest and best women you'd ever care to meet. (In fact, that's all the evidence I need to assert that if you are among those women who are still talking trash about the rest of us I can guarantee you that the problem isn't "Women." The problem is you.)
It didn't start there of course: I've always had my sister and my mom. My sister is...I just don't even have the words other than to say that she's been what I needed my whole life: She's been a word of encouragement, a kick in the pants, the giver of excellent advice, and the person who I can call merely to report that I lost a pound or that I tried a good recipe and she doesn't even care that I seriously call almost every damn day. My sister circle has been expanded now with my sister-in-laws and my bonus sisters and I am grateful every day that I have these incredible women at my beck and call.
But I think the light really started to go on for me in college. I might rhapsodize all day about the women I lived with during the college years, but suffice it to say that they opened my eyes to what I might become. We're still friends now, and they are still an example to me about what I'd might become.
I could go on and on...I've got my neighborhood moms, my running ladies, my dear ones I served in the Primary with (We were released Sunday...it's bittersweet.), my cousins, my piano moms, my gym friend, my church ladies, my foodies...I feel so lucky. These women surround me with support and love and friendship and I just have to say it: You ladies are the best.

Forty and Three

I arrived home from the gym early Wednesday morning and Bruce said, "I have the worst news ever." He'd been left a message that he and I were to meet with the stake presidency Thursday night. He was a bundle of nerves for the next 36 hours, and when we pulled up to the stake center offices the next night and not a soul was there except for Bruce and I and President G., I knew something was up. And the something was this: Bruce was called as the Second Counselor in the bishopric. We knew change was afoot but we definitely did not expect it to affect us quite so personally, mainly because we aren't completely righteous.

He accepted the calling without hesitation (or at least any I could see). We know that the next few years will be busy and frustrating and rewarding and a blessing and a lot of other things but we are up for it. Bruce began this year by expressing the wish that he could really grow and progress, and now the Good Lord has given him a big helping hand with that.

The next day was Bruce's birthday, and he wanted to keep things quiet and I gladly went along with that. Secrets are hard to keep so it seemed wise to lay low for a few days. Kiki was dying to give Bruce presents so I let her pick out a couple of movies for him even though I knew he really wanted hiking boots. I was clearly preoccupied during the selection process because I was very surprised when the newest member of the bishopric opened a couple of rated R movies for his birthday. They were promptly returned.

We went to Tepanyaki for dinner.

The family has been into pies for birthday lately instead of cakes, and Bruce was no different: he picked cherry and coconut cream and I pretty much rocked them both.

George was our only invited guest.

"Where's the party?" he said.

"YOU are the party," we told him.

Bruce's parents were able to find a flight up on extremely short notice, and arrived in Saturday afternoon. I'm sure suspicions were aroused when we walked into church with Bruce's parents, my mom and step-dad, a dear family friend, and my brother, sister-in-law, and 2 nephews. I was so grateful when the sacrament was over and they were finally called and sustained and I didn't have to keep it a secret anymore. Mormons are funny, because if there is even the smallest suspicion that the bishopric is being changed the rumors start circulating like mad and that really stresses me out. Even when I don't have anything to hide.

Which I did.

Bruce's dad was able to set Bruce apart as a High Priest, and that was really the most important reason for his parents to have travelled here. The stake presidency set the new bishopric apart, and I will say only a little bit about it- it was a very spiritual and very private experience. We are both humbled by this calling because we have many things we need to change and many opportunities to be better people. Nevertheless, I'm confident in Bruce's abilities. I only hope I can be the support he needs because honestly, emotional support is not my strong suit. My "emotionally supportive" conversations all sound something like this: "Times are tough all over. How about let's suck it up?"

Kate is on Spring Break which presented us with the chance to spend a whole day with Grandma and Grandpa Hatch and Grandma Donna. We elected to go to the Carl Bloch exhibit at BYU. It's good...way good. I was so emotionally moved by some of the artwork that I was choked up for much of the time.

Kiki was well behaved and fully embraced museum etiquette. She frequently reminded others to not touch the paintings and loudly chided Grandpa Hatch with a "GRANDPA! STAY BEHIND THE LINE!!!"

Kate whined, and whined, and then really started whining.

"I thought you said this would be entertaining. So when is this going to get entertaining?!?!"

So instead of time-outs to punish her in the future, I suppose I will force her to watch Bob Ross on public television or peruse my old Art History textbook.

Modern Art was more her thing. She totally dug this giant book sculpture.

It actually was pretty cool. Grandpa Hatch and Kate

Kiki has some awesome poses to go with her awesome outfits.

They are even better close up.

I love this kid so much I can't even stand it sometimes.

Same with the other one.

(It has to be said because lately there's been a lot of fighting between the girls about who is my favorite. It's gotten to the point that I told Bruce I needed a third child so the two fighters would have someone to unite against.)

Kiki, me, Kate's hair, Ruth, and Donna

All said, it's been a very eventful birthday for Bruce.

Cabin-ference Weekend

We were so very excited to find ourselves at Jack's cabin with the Murray's over conference weekend. It was a quick trip, but long enough for little Jack to realize that scones are the best food ever, for us to hike Hickman Bridge and Sulphur Creek, for us to laugh and laugh and for our kids to play and play, and just short enough for us to miss a giant snowstorm and opt for a hot diner breakfast instead.

Of course, the gas station powdered donuts on the way home were Kiki's highlight.