One Amazing Daughter

See this beautiful girl? Yeah, you know her as Princess. She is just finishing up her last few days of middle school and today was their awards assembly.

Now I know she is amazing, but it's nice to see everyone else think so too. She earned a special medallion for having all A grades for the entire 3 years and all H citizenship grades for all three years. Out of almost 600 students, there were only 14 that earned that distinction.

Way to go Princess.  You are awesome!

Real Baseball

Tee ball was an interesting experience. I'm not sure the kids learned much about baseball, but they sure had fun. Sport, on the other hand, is playing REAL baseball. He has three games scheduled for this week! His team is doing really well. They have only lost one game and that was because I couldn't attend, of course. (I am the semi-official scorekeeper, you know.)

Tonight was one of those awesome games when the boys are doing really well. Sport was a little upset in the second inning when they put in a new pitcher. This boy had an interesting pitch, almost like a softball slow pitch. I don't know how he managed it overhand, but quite a few of them fell through the strike zone and became strikes.  Sport was one of his first batters and he was rather devastated to be the first strike-out of the inning. Even though he missed the ball three times, I was glad to see him come out swinging.

At the bottom of the third, Sport was playing his usual position in left field. It had been slow for the other team, with most of the boys striking out. As the fourth batter strolled up to the plate, he had a confident swagger and he twirled his bat menacingly. The guys in the infield instinctively moved a little closer to their bases and the outfielders crouched in ready position.




I could tell Sport was nervous, but ready. On the very first pitch, bat connected with ball in a high pop fly right to left field. I held my breath. Sport was not exactly known for his catching abilities. I mouthed a silent prayer. For a split second I thought he had misjudged it and the ball would fall about 5 feet behind him, but at the last moment he reached back behind his head and snagged it with his mitt.

The crowd went wild! Me especially! His coach sprang to his feet, "Now that's what I'm talking about!" he shouted. The other team was devastated. This was their best hitter and instead of being their hero, he had gone down in flames. Sport tossed the ball back to the pitcher like it was nothing, but I could see the grin on his face from clear over by the dugout where I sat with the scorebook.

Later, after they soundly beat the Giants 15 - 6, Coach K presented the game ball to Sport, and he earned it. I just love real baseball!

Playing in the Band

I've told you before that band is just something we do in our family. It's an inexpensive way for the kids to learn music and feel like they are part of something amazing.

Tonight was the band concert for Princess and Prima Donna. They both play in the Symphonic band in our school which is the highest level of band. I love that they can do this together!

Their teacher requires 20 minutes of practice every night and they sit down together and play hymns and primary music for me in harmony. It's awesome! They even get to sit together when they perform. Princess is in the pony tail and green shirt. Prima Donna is on her left.

Princess will be going to high school next year and Prima Donna is already feeling the loss. The two are best friends as well as sisters. Maybe that is why they play such beautiful music together...

Guest Blog - For She's a Jolly, Good Fellow! by Drama Queen

We Twelves are good at sharing!

What a day!  Phew.  I for one, have been running since 5 a.m. which is pretty darn unusual for me.  I like my five o'clocks on the sunset side.  I was at work for a good chunk of the day and while I was, Mum and Daddy packed up for another little Tupperware trip.  Teach had the convocations aspect of her graduation this morning.  I'm pretty sure Gym Rat took care of the little kids...rumor has it he bought a cheeseburger for Curly for breakfast.

Mum's looking to get our house re-appraised so the afternoon was a sea of kid-running and trying to bolster the troops.  They got it together and we got some of the bad things checked off the list.  After dinner the kids disappeared downstairs to watch a movie.  As soon as it was over (literally to the second) I announced that we were all going to go to the Village Inn to celebrate awesomeness in our family: the awesomeness of Teach!  

What's with that face, Crafty?

Except for Princess who went to a sleep-over and Baby Doll who was with Mum and Dad, the lot of us drove over at nearly 10 and ordered up some pie.  On the way home, I started off a round of "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow" that lasted nearly the whole ride home - including lovely new lyrics.  

Curly, that's a huge piece of carrot cake!

"For Teach is a Jolly Good Fellow!
Yes, Teach is a Jolly Good Fellow..
So everybody eat some pie!
She's joined the new teacher supply!" 

We love pie!  And Teach!

Guest Blogger - Falling for Bossy by Gamer

 

***I asked Gamer to write a guest post in February when we were putting up all the First Kiss stories. It took him a while, but I'm excited (and a little nervous) to put up his first (and hopefully not last) guest post. Gamer's going to hate that title, but I have to throw in a little romance, don't I? And he didn't give it a title, so I'm perfectly justified, right? Right???***

Well here it is. My guest blog appearance.

This is Gamer aka as SIL. This is going to be one weird trip for us all together. Let me just say I don’t listen very well. This is the story of how me and Bossy met.

One night I was at a place called Hastur's Games and Hobbies. I had been hanging around there playing AD&D, Magic the Gathering, and some other games most people don't agree on. Well on one fateful night Bossy had barely gotten off work from her job at a local retail store. Unbeknownst to me her friend had a boyfriend who was a friend of mine. On this night Bossy and her friend showed up to watch her friend's boyfriend play AD&D (Advanced Dungeons and Dragons). I was wearing basically the only clothes I owned, Black pants with chains and straps everywhere, a black tee shirt, and a grungy jacket. Mind you this was in February. I was sitting there watching people come and go and characters get killed. 

Well after Bossy showed up something changed in the room and it wasn’t me. I was now being watched. You know the feeling you get when someone is watching you? I tried to figure out why I was getting it and from whom. Every time I got up to use the facilities or to buy a soda the eyes would follow me. Well OK not into the facilities, but you know what I mean. Finally I couldn't take it anymore.... I went outside to smoke a cigarette. 

Bossy followed me outside. She asked me for one of mine which at the time was Camel Wides. They are shorter and fatter than most. Well I gave her not knowing she was willing to go to such extremes to talk to me. She had quit smoking and was now willing to throw it all away just to get to know me. She took one drag and started coughing and couldn't stop.

I didn't know what to say at that point. I tried not to laugh at her while she was gasping for air and me snickering. When she could breathe again, I asked her if she had ever smoked a Camel Wide before and she reluctantly told me she had never heard of those. 

After that night the two friends decided on their own to take our relationship from just a casual smoke break. Ok more like me smoking and her almost dying from mine. It was decided by 2 people to have both of us over to his house and have dinner, play more games and see if anything ever happened between me and Bossy. Cause the next guy in line they wanted to set Bossy up with was nice in a very weird way. 

So after a few dates and dinner at Bossy's parents house. We made it official and got married and have been together for over eight years now.

***You know, Gamer, I'm still waiting for the kissing part...wait! Never mind, maybe I don't want to know.***

The Artichoke Box

Aloe, Key Chain (Teach) and Squeeg

I have some pretty amazing kids! Did I tell you that before? See that cute girl in the middle? That's Teach and the other two are her very best friends. They have been close since elementary school and even though they are all attending different universities, they still find time to do stuff together. Squeeg and Aloe both have blogs of their own. I love this post from Squeeg because it has some cute pics of their day at Daybreak Lake. Anyway, one of their latest adventures is writing a novel together. They are doing it in blog form, one chapter at a time, but they are just a bit disappointed with their readership. So I want to share Chapter One with you and if you like it (and I hope you do!), you can find about 12 more chapters at:

http://theartichokebox.blogspot.com/

Chapter One: The Train Station
There was a little brown paper bag sitting on the white plastic seat.

Nobody noticed it. Except a 10-year-old girl named McKenna.

The paper bag had permanent creases in it like someone had gripped it ferociously for a good length of time. It was sitting on a train station seat in Paris, France. McKenna had traveled there with her parents and was waiting for her train to the airport to take her home to the United States.

McKenna's parents were bickering about carry-on luggage while McKenna stared at the brown paper bag beside her. What could be inside? she wondered.

She started guessing in her mind. Someone forgot their lunch... It's a piece of jewelry for a man's wife that he disguised in a simple bag... Maybe it's a bomb...

Her last thought startled her. Ever since she could remember, she had seen terrorism on the news. Whether actual terrorism or presumed terrorism, it was a constant threat to her society.

Maybe it was her duty to discover what was inside that paper bag. She reached her hand over to the bag, ignoring her parents' new argument about which of them should get a window or an aisle seat on the train.

She pulled at the rolled up paper bag a bit then stopped, having second thoughts about if she should be doing this at all. What if the owner came back and just really wanted her lost sandwich?

But suddenly, a boy of about 12 appeared in front of her. He immediately snatched the paper bag from her and held it close to his chest. McKenna glanced at her parents but they hadn't noticed.

"Did you look inside?" The boy inquired with a bitter tone.

"N-No," McKenna stuttered, not expecting the boy's hostility.

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"You did, didn't you?" he said, taking her stuttered response as confirmation of his worst fear.

"I really didn't!" McKenna stood now and was pleased to find that she and the boy were roughly the same height. She stood up straighter and asked defiantly, "So what is in that bag?"

The boy jerked his head around and glanced at a man leaning nonchalantly by a soda machine with a newspaper on the other side of the train tracks. The man was staring openly at McKenna and this boy.

"I have to hurry," he said simply. "I shouldn't be talking to you."

A confused look crossed McKenna's face. "But wait, can't you just tell me what's inside?" she asked desperately.

The boy looked pained, clearly wanting to appease her but knowing he couldn't. "It's just something. I can't tell you." Then he started off toward the man leaning against the soda machine.

The cogs in McKenna's head started whirring as he walked away and she couldn't help but blurt out, "Is it a bomb?"

The boy whipped around and strode back over to her quickly. "This is not a bomb. I told you I cannot tell you what it is. This is important and this discussion is over."

But before the boy could run away from her again, he stopped to stare deeply into her eyes. McKenna saw a pleading look, one of desperation, in his dark brown eyes. But what could McKenna do to help him?

Then, as quickly as he had arrived, he backed away from her and turned, then swiftly loped across the station platform. Both he and the man disappeared into a new crowd of people walking into the station.

McKenna couldn't stand it. She had to know where they were going.

"Mom, Dad, bathroom before the train comes!" she yelled over her shoulder as she sprinted away.

She heard her mother yell behind her, "McKenna!!" She knew she'd be in trouble by the time she got back to her parents. But she couldn't care about that now. Glimpsing the boy's white t-shirt out near the taxi station, she dashed out the door toward him.

Once outside, she whipped her head from side to side. Then she pinpointed the two climbing into a taxi.

"Wait!" she cried. She ran in their direction and the boy saw her right as he was getting inside the taxi. That same pained look crossed his face as he saw her coming. However, he hurriedly slipped in, pulled the door shut and the taxi peeled out from the side of the road before she could get to them.

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McKenna gasped for air by the curb, not knowing exactly what she'd just witnessed. But as she stood with her hands on her knees, watching the cab disappear, she knew that it would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Food for Thought: Mom's Banana Nut Bread

I don’t think my mom really enjoyed cooking, but she loved to bake. The cookie jar was always full when we got home from school, but it didn’t take long for her eight kids to empty it. She made an amazing Toll House cookie with just the right amount of chocolate chips and her applesauce cookies were to die for! When the milk cows were producing and she had plenty of cream, she made chocolate and white sour cream cupcakes by the dozens. I loved candy bars and cookies from the store, but I never missed them at home.

There was one treat I know Mom made just for me because I could eat an entire loaf by myself and that was her banana nut bread. Since I grew up with this tasty sweet bread lovingly made by my mom, I can’t find any in the stores that tastes quite like hers. Using her recipe always makes me melancholy for the rest of the day as I eat slice after slice and remember the sounds and smells of her busy kitchen.

 I spent many days during my crazy high school years curled up in a kitchen chair with a generous piece of warm bread in my hand while we chatted about boys and homework, friends and the future. I never imagined then that I would lose my mom when she was only 68. I’d give almost anything for one of those chats now…maybe I’d better find a couple of my teenaged daughters and slice up another loaf.


 Mom’s Banana Nut Bread

½ cup shortening
1 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
2 bananas, mashed (approx. 1 ¼ cups)
½ cup walnuts (coarsely chopped)
2 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt

Cream shortening and add brown sugar gradually.

Add eggs one at a time. Add bananas. Now put in the dry ingredients and mix thoroughly. Add nuts.

Spray loaf pan. Bake for 45 minutes at 350 degrees. Makes one large or two small loaves. When I double this recipe I can get three loaves out of it.

My Mother-in-law

 Mothers’ Day wouldn’t be complete without a tribute to my mother-in-law. She was born and raised in a small town in central Utah. She was an amazing student and an incredibly hard worker. She helped in her parents’ dairy every day. She met and married her husband when she was in her early 20s. He was more than 20 years older than her and a World War II vet with plenty of combat experience. Together they raised 6 children, my sweetie being the second oldest. I asked my sweetie to tell me some fun stories about her and for some reason, they all seemed to involve the TV! 

One night when he was standing outside talking to a friend, the front door opened, the TV flew unceremoniously onto the porch, took a nice bounce and landed in the flowerbed. No words were spoken as the door slammed shut. Another time they were all working in their huge and amazingly productive garden when the kids sneaked inside because they didn’t want to miss Gilligan’s Island. After about 20 minutes, she noticed that her helpers were missing, so she gathered her gardening shovel and headed for the house. When she discovered them all gathered around the TV, she took a swing at it with the shovel. But those were the good old days when a TV needed more that a shovel to break it. 

Mother and son

I was 17 when I met her for the first time. I convinced my sweetie that it was time for him to go back to church. He was sure that if he stepped foot in the building that it might crumble, but by then I had him wrapped around my little finger. So together we showed up at Sacrament meeting in his parents’ ward. His mother nearly passed out! She could hardly believe that he would randomly show up at church after 5 years, especially not with a girl she knew nothing about. Happily, she was kind to me from that very first day. 

Rolling eggs.

I only remember her yelling at me one time during the last 28 years and I probably deserved it. We were engaged by then and my sweetie had invited me to spend the night at his house. I don’t remember exactly why, but I stayed in the girls’ room with his little sisters and he slept in his own bed in a room at the top of the stairs. It was a room that everyone had to pass through so it was open and very public. I had an early class the following morning and he was supposed to get up early so I wasn’t late. I did my part, but when I walked into his room to go down the stairs, he was still snoozing in his bed. Apparently he hadn’t heard his alarm. 

Now first of all I want to point out that I was fully dressed in shorts and a t-shirt for my aerobics class! I even had my shoes on! But when he invited me to climb beneath the blanket and cuddle with him…well, I just couldn’t resist. Since he was in his pjs, I kept the sheet between us, but that didn’t stop his mom from coming totally unglued when she found us a few minutes later! She was finally appeased when we proved that we were both completely clothed and not even next to each other, but it was a mistake I was very careful not to repeat. 

With Gym Rat

 Over the years she has been very good to me, treating me mostly like one of her own children. When I was pregnant with Bossy, I was selling Tupperware to make a little extra money. My MIL, who is extremely shy, had told me over and over that she would hate a job like that. Then, when my water broke and I was suddenly in the hospital having a baby nearly a month early, my sweet MIL took over not one, but two parties for me. She demonstrated the products, took orders, visited with the guests, and then promptly gave me all the profits. She was always willing to share her recipes, her garden produce, her son, and her heart. Happy Mothers’ Day, Euvonna. 

At Bossy's high school graduation.

First Boyfriend

**Editor's Note: Mom had some great stories for Valentine's week in her "Falling in Love feature," if you are new you may enjoy reading more about falling in love in small-town Utah here: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7.  Thanks for reading.**

I had my first real boyfriend when I was 14 years old. It was summer and I was getting ready to start my freshman year at our local high school. Don was from a little town down the road so he went to a different school. He was older than me by way more than my parents were comfortable with. He had just been elected student body vice president and he was starting his senior year. 

 We spent a lot of time together that summer, most of it just driving around in his big shiny blue car. She was his pride and joy and her name was Betsy. His father owned a garage so they had fixed her up together and she was definitely beautiful. I wasn’t much into cars. At 14, the only thing I could drive was Grandpa’s tractor and I wasn’t very good at that. Don had a sidekick named Corey. Corey was also a senior and he was the student body president (it was a small school!). 

Mom is clueless about the model of car for my own amusement I decided it was a 58 Plymouth.

 

I worked at the local Taco Time in the evenings and Don would often come down when I got off at 10:00 and we would drag Main for a couple of hours before he would take me home. Corey took a shine to one of my co-workers, so they were often with us. One night Corey came down in his own car and Don was in his beloved Betsy. They picked us up from work and we started following each other up and down Main Street. After half an hour of that we both pulled onto a side road. Corey’s car was about 50 feet in front of Don’s. Deb hopped out of Corey’s car and ran back to where I was sitting. Then Don slid out of the driver’s seat and leaned against his car to talk to Corey. Even though the car was huge, I slid into the driver’s seat to make room for Deb. 

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 Everything in the car was chrome and shiny. Like the little girl I was, I pretended to drive that beautiful car. Deb and I giggled until somehow, I knocked the car out of gear. It started rolling…I started panicking! I didn’t know where the brake was and I didn’t know how to stop the inevitable…Corey’s car was getting closer and closer and I wasn’t getting any nearer to knowing how to stop Betsy. Don was starting to fall apart, but he seemed glued to the spot where he stood. He just kept saying, "Step on the brake! Step on the brake!" Deb was making me so nervous, making stupid suggestions. It never occurred to me to turn the steering wheel so that I could miss that stupid little car that was in my way. We just rolled closer and closer. 

 

Finally, Corey sprang into action. He raced around the car, threw himself over Deb and into the passenger’s seat. My heart was pounding in my chest…that car was less than ten feet away! Corey grabbed at the emergency brake and pulled it. The brakes ground to a stop and threw us all into the dashboard. Don finally shook himself from his trance and pulled open the driver’s side door. "Move over!" he suggested a little too roughly. I slowly slid over to the passenger's side of the car. Corey rolled out of the car and onto the soft grass, breathing heavily. Deb slipped away into the darkness and climbed back into Corey’s car. My heart was still pounding in my chest, but this time I wasn’t afraid about a car accident. 

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Don wasn’t nasty enough to break up with me that night, but his visits became fewer and fewer. Our relationship had definitely taken a U-turn. But how can any girl compete with Betsy? She had the perfect shiny complexion and matching twin exhaust pipes. She was his first love and I had crossed the line.

Perhaps Besty should have been called Christine...

Christmas Stockings

Bossy tells me I’m getting too depressing with all this talk about Autism so I thought I’d give you another baby story. So it was 1988. Bossy had just turned four and the Gym Rat was nearing two. We graduated from the university in the spring and then it was time to find jobs. My sweetie is in engineering, but there were few jobs and many candidates. I was going to be an amazing writer…but I settled for a technical writer when they offered me a pretty good position (as long as I didn’t mind working around all the toxic chemicals at the army depot). I was even issued a gas mask! I worked for a government contractor, so I worked four ten-hour days with an hour commute each way. My sweetie finally landed a consulting job and he was able to work as many hours as he could possibly stand. We put our little ones in day care with a relative and it was off to work we go. 

The summer passed and the leaves changed. As we worked like crazy and prepared our home and family for the holidays, the delicious smells didn’t have the normal affect on me. In fact, they made me downright nauseous. I didn’t dare hope, so I gritted my teeth and told myself that it wasn’t morning sickness after all. Since we were apart most of the time with our crazy work schedules, my sweetie didn’t suspect anything. About the 20^th of December, I could no longer deny the regularity of my morning flu. I made an appointment with the doctor for a Friday afternoon and I chose not to say anything to my dear husband. My suspicions were confirmed. Our little one was due the latter part of July. I was so excited! By the time I got home from the doctor’s office, I had formed a fantastic plan. But first I had to go to the store. I needed to buy some Christmas stockings. 

The next three days were endless. I was nearly bursting with my secret. I couldn’t look my husband square in the eye, and he was sure that I was angry with him for some unknown discretion. Finally, Christmas Eve arrived. We got the kids to bed early and we slipped into bed. My sweetie was tired. He’d worked a long week and he needed a good rest. I listened to his breathing until I was sure that he was asleep, then I climbed out of bed and crept down the stairs. In the light from the Christmas tree, I tiptoed to the fireplace and placed a small gift in the toe of his stocking. My package delivered, I quickly retraced my steps and slid between the sheets. His even breathing testified of his ignorance of my journey. I willed myself to sleep, and after much tossing and turning, and a little nausea, I finally dozed off. 

 

Christmas morning dawned bright and early for the kids. Bossy and the Gym Rat were up with the sun and were soon jumping on our bed. Their anxious little bodies were insistent, so we gave up and rolled out. After all, I was just as excited. Finally, I’d get to tell my secret. At our house, tradition required that we had to look through our stockings first. We’d always find an orange, candy, and a few small gifts. Generally, these gifts were not that exciting; we might get gloves, a movie, or underwear. This year I scooped up the stockings with a vengeance. "Hasn’t Santa been generous this year?" I prompted. "Yes!" shouted the kids. 

My sweetie rubbed the sleep from his eyes and finished setting up the video camera. "Are we ready?" he questioned. "Of course," I smiled, "Here’s your stocking." I passed the bulging stocking to him and positioned myself so that I could watch as he opened his gifts. He slowly pulled oranges and miniature chocolate bars from the top of the stocking. A box of orange sticks followed, then a couple of apples. I squirmed impatiently. "What did you get, Dear?" Just dump it out, I thought to myself. He finally reached his hand into the toe of the stocking. He gave me a puzzled look and I smiled innocently. "What’s this?" He pulled out the colorful package and carefully unwrapped a tiny pair of yellow stockings. I watched his stare of confusion as he turned the stockings over and over in his large hands. Slowly, recognition dawned and his gaze was replaced with an over-sized grin. He pulled me into his arms. My secret was out, and it was definitely worth the wait. These were the best Christmas stockings ever.

For sale here

 

Falling in Love: The Honeymoon.

The reception was long and we were very tired by the time the cake was cut and the gifts were all loaded into his parents’ car. We intended to help clean up until his dad told us to get going. We were only driving about 35 miles up the road and staying in a small motel in a sleepy town just off the freeway. We quickly changed our clothes and tossed the bouquet. Many hugs and kisses later we ran for his parents’ other car (we still didn’t have one of our own). Our little brothers and sisters pelted us (hard!) with rice as we crossed the parking lot. 

My new husband reached for the door handle and was greeted with a handful of shaving cream. He was NOT pleased. He pulled open the door and balloons and newspaper exploded from the car. We started moving them when for some reason he opened the glove box. It was also filled with shaving cream. At that point the exhaustion and stress of the day seemed to win. He pulled out the registration papers and stomped over to his dad. "Look what they’ve done!" he fumed. "We can’t drive like this!" His dad calmly took the papers and smiled. It was hard to rile him up. "Why don’t you two just take the other car?" he suggested. "We’ll take this one home and get it all cleaned up." This seemed to appease my sweetie. 

The car kind of looked like this.

He took my hand and led me to the other vehicle. "No more rice!" he commented firmly as we passed our little brothers. He pulled open the door. The car was completely full of all the gifts. The only seat available was the driver’s seat. "I guess we’ll have to rearrange some of these gifts," I said. "Just push them toward the door," he suggested. "We can snuggle up on this side." That sounded like a great idea to me. Seatbelts were only suggested then, not required. We both climbed into the front seat and headed out of the parking lot. I was a little sad that we didn’t have anything to identify us as newlyweds…no tin cans to clink and clatter on the pavement or anything. As we drove off into the night, I dozed against his shoulder. It had been a long emotional day. 

 
When we finally arrived at the motel, he gently shook me awake. "Time to wake up," he suggested. I moaned. I never did like getting up. I looked around at the dark, unfamiliar parking lot. "Better lock the doors," I commented. He rolled his eyes. "You’re paranoid," he said playfully, as he reached into the back to push down the manual locks. We checked in and got our keys. Then we moved the car six spaces down the parking lot until we were parked right in front of the door to our room. "Let me get you inside," he suggested, "Then I’ll come back for our bags." We walked to the door and he scooped me up to carry me over the threshold. Once inside, I started turning on lights and checking the bathroom. He came back in with the bags and reached back to lock the door. 

"What are you doing?" I asked. "Locking the door?" he said innocently. "We can’t leave all those gifts in the car!" He looked puzzled. "Why not?" I couldn’t believe he didn’t see the danger here. "They might get stolen!" I said. "But it will take me 50 trips to bring them in," he reasoned. "They’ll be fine." I started putting my shoes back on. There was no way I was letting all of those beautiful gifts spend the night in the car all by themselves. He sighed and unlocked the door. Twenty minutes later, the gifts were stacked in neat little piles around the room. Again, he locked the door. My eyes swept the room, taking in what looked way more exciting than Christmas morning. 

There were about 100 gifts in that tiny room. "Let’s open some!" He groaned and dropped down on the bed. "Aren’t you ready for bed?" he asked. "Just a few?" I pleaded. He sat up and looked at me. Slowly a smile spread over his face. "OK, you choose." A few turned into some.  Some into many.  And then eventually all the gifts were open. It’s no wonder I love this man! Happy Valentine’s Day!

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.

Falling in Love: Courtship

We are going to skip this week's Friday Freebie to continue the courtship story in honor of Valentine's Day.  Please come back next week for another free activity.  

I would love to be able to say that we both immediately knew we were right for each other and we got married and lived happily ever after.  Unfortunately it was much more complicated than that.  I was only 17 and even though I thought I was all grown up, I was self-centered and selfish.  I was still a senior in high school for at least half my waking hours.  I wanted to participate in high school activities like the prom, but most importantly, I still wanted to chase boys and have fun!  I really wasn’t ready at that point for a serious relationship and given my split personality (college co-ed vs. high school senior) it was easy to live a dual life.  I was also getting an incredible amount of pressure from home to not get serious with anyone.  My parents were excited about my 4-year scholarship to BYU and they were afraid that getting married might jeopardize that opportunity.  The thing we didn't realize then was that there seemed to be a force, like a strong magnet, pulling us together and no matter how hard we tried to break those bonds, we were unable to separate.

John Travolta and Olivia Newton John in Grease

My lab assistant accused me of mind games and he was probably right.  In my mind it was all a game and the seriousness of the possible outcome didn’t really occur to me at first.  I was so flaky it's a wonder we ever got married!  Like one time when I was angry with him for some silly little thing, I immediately went home and called another guy and invited him to pref.  Shortly after that I went on a high school trip to Washington DC and spent the week chasing and then running from a boy from South Carolina (Stalker!  He didn’t give up quickly…he wrote to me for months and I don’t believe I ever even held his hand!)  After I was back from my trip I would often go out with another guy and then call my sweet and incredibly smart Lab Assistant to help me with my homework.  Each time I broke his heart he got so frustrated that he took all the broken glass in the lab and threw it into the recycling bin with such force that it shattered into tiny pieces.  

None of my high school friends even knew I was seeing someone until my lab assistant and I showed up together at the New Year’s Eve dance.  Then they gave me a lot of crap because he had a less-than-missionary style haircut.  I was a bit embarrassed by that and the next day he immediately cut his hair.  I should have known then that he would do anything for me, but it took much longer for that fact to sink in.  He gave me some wonderful gifts, a large stuffed teddy bear for Christmas, a heart-shaped crystal necklace for Valentine’s Day, and green M&Ms for St. Patrick’s Day.  He never neglected an occasion to show me how he felt.

That winter was very cold and the snow hung around for weeks without a ray of sunshine.  One night we were parked in front of my house.  We had been sitting in the car for a long time and the windows were pretty fogged up.  The snow was also piling up on the windshield, but we were talking and laughing, totally oblivious to the storm.  That’s when my dad showed up. 

Stock photo WCBS2

My parents were negative about any guy I went out with more than once, but did I ever mention that my dad was extremely unhappy about this developing romance with a college boy?  Even after I turned 18 in January, he thought I was way too young for the amount of time we were spending together.  Anyway, that night he wrenched open the door and the snow fell in little piles onto the seat of the car.  “What are you two doing in here?” he demanded.  Before either one of us could answer, he yelled, “Get out!  Don’t you know the power lines are down?”  We quickly climbed from the car and into the deep snow.  The power lines were sparking right above the car.  The snow was so heavy that they couldn’t take the weight.  It wasn’t long before the emergency vehicles arrived, but by then we were safely inside the house, drying out and warming up. 

Several days later we were once again sitting in the car when my lab assistant put his head in his hands and told me he didn’t know what he was going to do.  Concerned, I snuggled closer, “Why?” I questioned.  “Because I can’t live with you and I can’t imagine life without you.”  I was stunned and didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything.  Then he continued, “I think I’m in love with you.”  Now I have heard this line from guys before; the first time was when I was in 7th grade, but he seemed serious.  “Why do you think that?” I asked.  “Because even with all of these people trying to tear us apart, we seem to be stuck together,” he said.  I was surprised and scared about what that could mean to our future.  “Why don’t you think about it for a while?” I suggested.  “Maybe you’ll want to take it back.”  I hadn’t really thought about how I felt at that particular moment and I was certainly not ready to confess my undying love just then.  He shook his head.  It took me a couple of weeks to realize that my feelings were the same.  Tune in tomorrow for the proposal.

Falling in Love: First Date

So we met the first week in June of 1982. I survived the Survey Chem class with the firm intention of never taking another chemistry class in my life! But my job required me to correct homework and tests for the various chemistry classes, so chemistry became part of my routine. 

I was an English Major, so sometimes correcting homework was a bit beyond my abilities especially for the Organic Chem class. This nice lab assistant was the perfect person to ask for help! Not only was he in the Organic Chem class, but he could get paid for his efforts in my behalf. So we started spending many afternoons together, laughing, working, and getting to know each other a little better. 

 
I must confess that I was a big flirt and it never occurred to me to be anything different around him. It was obvious that he didn’t have much experience with girls and most of my flirting just seemed to frustrate him. After several months of working together I finally ran into him one night at the library. I was with my little sister and he was just hanging out and doing homework. We started teasing him and eventually I stole his class ring. That was really the first time I looked at him as being a romantic conquest. 

Several evenings later I was working in the chemistry office. The Organic class was having a test and I had several guy friends in there sweating it out. After a couple of hours, they were finally dismissed. What a ragged bunch! They had clearly used every bit of brain power they collectively possessed. These were some of the smartest guys in the school and they all congregated in the chemistry office. I was the only girl among them. 

My lab assistant sprawled in the professor’s chair, "I could sure use a steak!" he complained to no one in particular. Then, when he got no response, he said, "Anyone want to come?" "I’ll come," I said. We looked around at the rest of the guys. Each had his own silly little smirk on his face. "I have some stuff I need to do," said one. "Have fun!" commented another. Somehow I thought I had been set up, but I wasn’t going to walk away without a good steak dinner. Besides, this was probably the only way I was ever going to get this super-shy guy to ask me out. "OK, let’s go," I said. 

He didn’t have a car, so naturally I had to drive. We headed to the only steakhouse in town, a tiny café I had never been to before. I made up my mind then and there that this was a date and we were both going to act like it. When I pulled into the parking lot, he got out and headed to the door. I just sat there and waited. It took him a few minutes to realize that I was still in the car. I’m pretty sure that’s when he figured out that we were not just two friends grabbing a bite to eat together. 

 He came back and opened my door. We enjoyed our meal and talked about things that were a little more personal than homework and test scores.  Then I took him to my favorite place in the whole world…my grandparents’ house. 

They were a little nervous about me bringing a new guy around, but they took it in stride. Although my grandma took me in the other room and said loudly enough for him to hear, "Now don’t go getting serious with this one!" I was only 17 and college boys were definitely trouble. I can’t remember who suggested that we attend the dance that night, but somehow we ended up there. Several slow dances later and we were both convinced that our first date wouldn’t be our last…come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you about our first kiss.