Last Day of School

So it's officially here, summer vacation! Scout finished up yesterday with a little awards ceremony. Her teacher named her the most Graceful Dancer because she was a dancer in the operetta and she had her dance entry for Reflections go all the way to state. She earned her Soaring Eagle award which is a nice medallion awarded to each child who goes above and beyond the expected.

Sport and Crafty also earned their medallions for the year. All three had awesome report cards! When I was a kid, my parents gave us fifty cents for each A we earned in school. I remember once when I was in about 7th grade being so excited because I received $3.50 and that was just enough to buy me a new laundry basket.

I'm not that generous with our kids. In fact, this is the first year we have given any rewards for excellence on report cards. It's just something I expect from my kids. I want them to do well in school, not because they have been bribed, but because school is important and they should work hard at it anyway.

So this year Bossy had her kids bring me their report cards and now that I'm a grandma with school-aged kids, I guess I need to be that loving benevolent figure...

I bought them each a candy bar. But that caused no end of grief at my house. I had never rewarded my kids and now I was giving treats to the grandkids??? Where was the justice?

So I bought them all candy bars. And now I've started a new tradition.

Snickers, anyone?!

Guest Blog: Spiritual Insight by Princess

Today I got to do some something fun. I went to the Manti Temple with Dad, Dog Walker, Prima Donna, and Grandpa. Grandma C had some family names that needed to be done. The Manti Temple’s Baptistry is much different from the one my sister and I are used to going to. It is a lot smaller, less busy, and it wasn’t as calm or peaceful. I didn’t feel the same as I did in my temple and it worried me. It wasn’t until I was sitting in a tiny room and my grandpa was saying a prayer with his hands on my head that I felt something.

It wasn’t a feeling of peace; it was a kick from my sister sitting on the chair across from me. I opened my eyes and hers were closed, trying to look innocent even as a huge grin spread across her face. Right then I realized that if it weren’t for the power of the priesthood, I’d be dead, and my little sister, who was sitting across from me, would be doing my names. She would have been in the dressing room alone, she would have my room, my clothes, my toys… My treasured items wouldn’t be there, they would be in stores or trees, waiting to be turned into paper, and then masterpieces… by someone else. If I weren’t here, you wouldn’t be reading this.

How would the people around me have been affected if I had died that day? My friends, my family, my future husband…how would their lives be different? Would my best friend be happy? Would my husband marry someone else?

Bossy thinks she is funny.

Now I just want to point out that I DID die (something I am very proud of and am seriously considering putting on my resume!). I wonder what happened when I did. I want to hope I found my great-grandparents, who were already dead, and asked them what to do. I want to think that my great-grandpa, who drowned, told me his story and helped me decide to return to my family. I want to think my children were there, and explained to me that I needed to go back home so they could join me some day. I hope my siblings that weren’t born told me about all the fun we would have together, and the special moments we would share.

My awesome dance friends at C & C

I came back for a couple of reasons. I needed to live out my life. I needed to have trials and fun times, and learn to dance. I needed to get married and raise my family. But one of the most important reasons is because I needed to come back so my autistic brother wouldn’t blame himself for killing me. I love my brother. Nate, I’m so glad you put me in that bathtub. I’m glad you gave me that experience and made me the person I am today. I love you.

~ Princess

Noticed the church pew and did a double take? Go read this story.

Falling in Love: Wedding

I wanted to have the perfect small town wedding. We set our date for the following April, so I had plenty of time to prepare. My parents were somewhat less than thrilled and they weren’t afraid to say so. His family was wonderful! They were happy and helpful, welcoming me into the family with open arms. Graduation came and went and summer quarter began. We both had a few classes to finish before we could graduate with our Associates Degrees. Then he would head to the University for a year and I would go to BYU. We would marry the following spring and then I would transfer to the U with him. 

To understand the rivalry and my betrayal go here.

All was going according to plan until I found out that my dad had not processed any of my paperwork for school. That meant no grant money for housing and food. I was very upset! Even with my amazing scholarship, I didn’t have enough money saved up and my parents were not in a financial position to help me. That was the shove I needed to take charge of my own life. 

Our actual decorations.

I quickly filed paperwork for myself and received a scholarship to the U. We also moved our wedding date to September 10. That gave us only six weeks and we had not even started. It’s easy to get things done quickly when money is no object…it’s much harder when you are on a shoestring budget. Because of our change in plans we were forced to pay for our own wedding. My grandma had a friend who did weddings and she offered her backdrop and decorations, although we had to set them up by ourselves the night before. We rented my dress and we made all the bridesmaids’ dresses. I also did all the flowers myself. My brother-in-law took care of the photography and I had a neighbor make our cake. The night before the ceremony we spent a couple of hours setting up at the church and then we headed to the bowling alley for a late supper. 

We were both exhausted! My Lab Assistant flopped into a booth and began nervously playing with the salt shaker. Our food was taking forever. He obviously needed to talk. "What’s the matter?" I asked cautiously. "Nothing," he mumbled. I relaxed a little. It had been a hard day for both of us. He continued to twist the salt shaker in his hand. "Really?" I prodded again. He shifted restlessly in his seat. "I don’t know…" he began. Now it was my turn to be nervous. "This is such a big step…maybe we shouldn’t get married." This was not what I expected. "You’re telling me this the night before our wedding?" My voice was rising, I was not handling this well. He mumbled something incoherent as the server approached with plates full of burgers and fries. 

I don’t remember how the conversation went from there. I do know that when I showed up for the ceremony the next morning I wasn’t 100% sure that he would be there. But he was right on time and he looked amazing in his white tux. We held the reception at the church and we greeted friends and guests for almost three hours. My dad eventually gave up the fight and joined our party. I think he even enjoyed himself. It did take him a while to forgive me for the powder-blue tux…Visit again tomorrow for one last look at our honeymoon. It will be G-rated, I promise.

For some reason the fountain is a tradition in our small town.

Falling in Love: The Proposal

The Dark Crystal

 It was finally spring! The year was 1983 and I could see my whole future unfolding. I was going to graduate from high school in May, finish my two-year degree in August, spend a year at BYU, and then get married the following summer. It seemed like a perfect plan. My Lab Assistant and I had even named our first child! One of our early dates was to a showing of The Dark Crystal. I loved the name of the main character and playfully suggested, "When we get married, let’s name our first child ________!" "OK."  I’m pretty sure he thought I was crazy then, but it didn’t really matter. We were young and life was good. It was easy to make all kinds of crazy plans. Unfortunately, it was a lot harder to make those plans realities. 

By March we felt mostly committed to each other, but he refused to make it official. All I wanted was his school ring and an invitation to "go steady." I still don’t know exactly why he was reluctant to take that step, but it became a source of contention for us. My parents jumped at the chance to break us up completely, and when a high school boy invited me to the prom, they insisted that I accept the invitation. I secretly hoped this would help him make his decision once and for all. Within a day or two after prom he asked me to go steady and by the first of May, I knew he was looking for a real ring. 

It was nearly Memorial Day and graduation was quickly approaching. He came by the house and asked me if I wanted to go to the Malt Shop for some ice cream. The Malt Shop was a local favorite with the college kids and we loved their hot fudge shakes with nuts. It was still chilly, so I grabbed a jacket and we headed out the door. We talked about school, graduation, finals, and upcoming tests. Soon we arrived at the Malt Shop and placed our order. We slipped into our favorite booth and held hands across the table while we waited. 

It wasn’t long before they called our number and my Lab Assistant retrieved our food from the girl behind the counter. After he set the tray on the table, he slid back into his seat and then handed me a cup. I pulled out the long red spoon and placed a mouthful upside down on my tongue. It was cold and smooth with just the right amount of chocolate. "Ummm…" I murmured. "I love this place." I stuck my spoon back into the cup for another frosty bite. But my spoon wouldn’t go down. "What the…?" I jabbed harder. "There’s something in my shake!" I wedged my spoon between the cup and the object and up popped a plastic bubble like the kind you get in a vending machine. I grabbed a napkin and wiped off the ice cream. My heart began to pound as I carefully pried the two halves apart. The top finally slid open and I pulled out a beautiful diamond engagement ring. A tiny folded slip of paper asked, "Will you marry me?" Tomorrow I’ll tell you all about the wedding.

Gratitude

My little two-year-old Curly is the sweetest thing! This morning I was pulling some bargains out of yet another Kohl’s bag. This time they were pretty much all for 5-year-old Scout; some Princess jammies, a fuzzy pink jacket with fuzzy pink gloves, black and gray leggings. She was happy but not nearly as grateful as I wanted to see her be. 

Meanwhile, Curly stood by my leg and bouncing up and down shouted, "Is there anything for me? Is there anything for me?" I had to keep telling him, "No, this time they are all for Sissy." He was sad, but hung around anyway. Just as he was about ready to head dejectedly down the stairs, I spotted a small navy blue pair of unremarkable sweats that I had pulled out of a bag yesterday and left laying on the tub for him. 

"Hey, Curly, I do have something for you!" He raced back to my bedroom. I felt almost guilty as I held up this one little pair of $2.00 JC Penney sweats. He ran to me, "Are those for me?" he breathed. "Yup! As soon as you go to the potty we’ll put them on." I took his little hand in mine as he half-skipped to the potty. I lifted him up and his small face turned upward to mine. "I’m so excited!" he said. I smiled above his blonde curls. In my heart I promised, "Next time the whole bag will be for you."