A Loss.

It's expected that you grieve at the loss of a child that everyone knew, loved and misses.

But how do you explain that you are grieving for the loss of a child you never knew?

Or that may have never been born?

It is impossible.

Unless you are doing it.

We are doing it.

We are grieving.

Even though we never held a baby in our arms. With a name. A closet full of clothes. A favorite blankie. We are grieving.

It is a loss when adoption doesn't happen the way you had hoped and dreamed it would.

Our 5 year adoption journey is now at a close.

But please don't cry for me Argentina!

We grieve, but we are at peace.

And Daniel and I know we have the most bestest and greatest and most dynamic kids in the whole world! Seriously! We do. If you don't believe me, come see!

I would like to thank those who have helped us travel this 5 year journey. Thank you for your prayers. Thank you for your fasts. Thank you for taking us to the temple with you. Thank you for your tears, your concern, your genuine interest in the growth of our family. Thank you for sharing our pass along cards. Thank you for thinking of us when certain circumstances had you thinking of us. Thank you for putting our pass along cards on your blogs and up at the gym and grocery store. Thank you to each of you whose shoulders were wet from my tears. Thank you to each of you who, when I said I was okay, knew better and gave loving hugs. Thank you to our families who willingly supported, fasted and prayed. Thank you to my adoption friends who “know” and know that I love and appreciate you!

Please understand that we are not ready to talk about our most recent experience. Hugs and kind words are greatly appreciated.

Food Storage?

Again. From the Drat Files. Look what I found today. Look at the year.

2009?!?!?!

Goodness sakes.

I believe I did a wonderous job of planning and plotting and using my food storage in 2009.

I mean, I still have a beautiful food storage.

Don't get me wrong.

It's gorgeous.

And plentiful.

But have you seen the price of gasoline?

And what's happening in the Middle East?

And our very own economy?

Food storage will be needed.

Desperately needed.

And so I guess I should change the year to 2011 and update all I have in my records.

Because I want to look good for all of you.

But most importantly, I want to make sure I can keep my family eating and help those around us if need be.

If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear.

Sunday Night Funnies.

Grandma and Grandpa came for dinner last night. As we were finishing dessert, Sam left the table, sat at the red table with a paper and marker and started working on something. Then he came to the table and showed this picture.

He said, "What's this?"

A worm on roller skates!

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha....

Then he left again.

He came back with this one.

What's this?

This time Grandpa was ON!

Grandpa said, "It's a spider doing a hand stand."

Sam said, "Of course it is!"

We laughed some more.

Then Sam got desperate.

Grandpa was on to him

So He came back a third time with this one.

What's this?

A toy box filled with toys.

We laughed anyway!

Silly Sam.

A Little Bite.

That seems to be how we like our spoons. You know, when you are sure you have put every single last spoon into the dishwasher and then rinse all the yuck down the drain and start the garbage disposal and then you hear it. The spoon. The one you missed. Cause it was in the drain, too. And it's never the same spoon.

Here is just a sampling of the spoon carnage.

And then there's the token fork.

And only one fork.
I hate using the spoons that become disposal carnage. They rip my lip.
But here they've stayed. In my kitchen. In the drawer. And on to the table.
I guess it's time to move on and dump them.
Goodbye fair spoons. I enjoyed eating cereal from your bowl.
Ice cream tasted better when coming off of you.
May no other lips be ripped from the carnage you sustained in the disposal.
Sniff. Sniff.

Soon...

A phone call from uncle Lewis this morning revealed that our goat friends up north have begun to multiply. He asked if we were multiplying. Not yet. He said to check their udders. (eeeewwww) And that will let us know.

Hey Oreo!!

She wouldn't turn around for me.

She was busy with the salt lick.

Me? I just eat chips.

And I wasn't gonna walk through the poopy grass, excuse me, fertilized grass, to check her udder.

So I suppose this is as good an angle as any.

Still. I don't see anything.

Blackjack here is always at just the right picture taking angle.

But I couldn't see her udder.

Maybe the kids will have to go check them out today.

I'm really hoping those kids come when the weather's good.

It would be a shame to have to go out in the coming snow.

Just kidding.

The mamas arrived on a very rainy day.

I guess it would just fit that their kids come on a snowy day.

But still, I'm hoping the weather's good.

Pray for me. Please.

The Fourth Job.

The long wait for this post is to symbolize the long wait before I had another job. But first I need to edit my last job post. Katie was 15. I so don't remember that. So that means I was younger than I thought and I drove to and from work every time. I guess I was confusing the 'Katie takes over the car' stuff with high school in Utah. So there.

Now. After leaving Godfather's Pizza, I remained jobless. We got word that we were transferring. To Utah. So I didn't get another job. And now, a therapy moment. We moved to Utah in July of 1988. Right before my senior year in high school. Oh, just kill me now. Um, then. Never mind. I was excited at the prospect of a new place. New home, new school, new friends, new lots of things. When we got here I realized how much I had needed to get away from many of the 'friends' I had in California. Bad influence. But it was still a tough move.

My dad bought a small car, a Dodge Omni to be exact, for Katie and me to get to school in. It was a car only in the academic sense. It went. It needed oil. But it couldn't be driven in snow. And Katie apparently had to drive all the time. Wait. That's another story for another time.

Let's get back on track...

Moving to Utah did become somewhat of a problem. It was difficult finding a spot in the senior class among kids who were set in their groups. Getting a job was last on my list. So I worked to just be done with high school.

For my graduation, my grandparents, Meme and Opah, sent me a plane ticket to come stay with them in Southern California. It was open ended and they said I could stay for 2 weeks or longer if I so desired. So I went. I packed up my bedroom thinking this was it for me. I was going to California and, more importantly, I was leaving Utah.

After arriving, I found living there with my grandparents, and with my aunt Ruth and her family close by, to be extremely fulfilling. My aunt Meg and her family lived pretty close by, too and we did a lot together to fill the summer. Beach, shopping, eating out, staying up late, beach, etc. I was having fun.

Then Meme did something to me. She told me I had to get a job. Yuck. I was having so much fun. She told me to evaluate what I wanted to become. What did I enjoy doing? In high school in California, I did early child development and loved it. So I said I wanted to be a teacher. There was a Kindercare (day care center) close by. So I went and applied. I got the job!

I was put in the toddler room with another teacher, although I worked with many team teachers over the years. And thus began a journey that helped shape me. Into what? Hmm. We'll get to some of it. The kids were 18 months to 2 years. I loved it. I enjoyed the gals I worked with and got an education in so many things. Cigarettes being one of them. Almost all the teachers smoked. And smoking was allowed in the building. In the break room. Oh, how many times did I come home smelling liked I had smoked a pack? I would rather smell like sour milk from scooping ice cream than like stale cigarette smoke. One lady had yellow eyes, so help me, yellow eyes, from smoking. She had been told to quit, but wouldn't.

I learned about ab*rtion. There was one girl I worked with who would go out with another of the teachers (they were best friends) and said that every time the other girl got pregnant, which was quite a bit, she would go get an ab*rtion. Several times a year. That was appalling.

There was another teacher who I got to be great friends with, Susan, who told me about another teacher who asked her to “swing” with her and her hubby. I didn't get it. Go dancing? The swing? She explained. Yikes. Susan declined, saying she and her man didn't do that.

I twisted my ankle on a block in my classroom and found that you have to advocate for yourself because the business doesn't want to pay for it. I didn't have insurance and they wouldn't pay for me to see a doctor. I finally told them that I couldn't fulfill my duties with these toddlers because I couldn't walk. Judy the cook took me to a doctor. I had sprained it and they had me start physical therapy. Send the bill to Kindercare please. Judy was annoyed for some reason, and made her feelings clear to the director. She still thought I was faking it. Whatever Judy!

I did still enjoy the spaghetti and green beans she served for lunch, though.

One older lady worked in the room with me for a while. I loved working with her. She was slow, but she loved on those kiddos! I sweat. Well, my head sweats. It's just a part of who I am. But I was always hot. Id' like to think it was because the room was kept at 73 degrees. But this lady thought I might die. She told me about a friend of hers who was always hot and who sweated quite a bit. Doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. She burned up. Literally. To death, even. So she told me I might just burn to death. Thanks a lot!

One of the gals was having a party. We were all invited. A few of them asked me if I'd drive them there and back. I said I would. Luckily I recognized the smell of pot from high school. No!! I didn't smoke it!! Sheesh! In the parking lot. That's where the kids would smoke it before and after school. Back to the party. We ate, watched TV, talked bad about other work people. Oh yeah. High class! Then they broke out the pot. When I could feel the effects on my brain I finally said I was leaving. The gals I brought weren't ready! C'mon! They finally gave in. And I understood. I was the designated driver. I didn't go to any other parties.

But it wasn't just “those” things that I learned. I learned about kids. I loved those kids. They were the best little people in the world. But I learned quickly that when you are a constant in a child's life, during the bulk of their waking hours, you easily become a parent figure. There were kids who would want me in the middle of the night when having a nightmare. There were many who called me 'mommy'. There was one little boy who got chicken pox and his mom had to bring him in to see me every day because, well, because I was a constant in his life. I decided while working at Kindercare that I would NEVER put my children in day care.

The politics helped affect that decision, too. I could clearly tell you which teachers didn't like kids. The director's job wasn't to make sure the children were getting the best care, it was about getting as many children into a classroom to make a buck. There are laws about teacher to child ratio. No matter how much one complained about needing another teacher in a room because there were more kids coming in because the director kept enrolling, we would always be understaffed.

I stayed at Kindercare in Southern California until I moved back home. About a year and a half. When I moved back home, I went to the local Kindercare. They were fully staffed and so I went to another school nearby. I waited until the local school had an opening. I didn't have to wait long. I worked at that Kindercare until I went on my mission in 1992. For 3 years I loved those kids. I made sure that if they had to be in day care, they deserved to have the best teacher to care for them. Me, of course.

Working in a day care was one of the toughest jobs I've ever had. So many emotions involved. Politics ran rampant. Drugs and alcohol were used a lot. Not one teacher was required to have an education. No child development or early childhood education, much less a high school diploma. At the time, Kindercare was one of the best reputed centers in the country. And my experience left me wondering how parents could leave their children in such a place.

I am grateful for the experience. I learned a lot. About kids, about other people, about me. And I can most assuredly tell you...I have the BEST job right now. I wear my title proudly. Mom.

A Realization Of JOY.

I frequent 2 local Mavericks. And really for only one thing. A huge diet pepper. Many times I have my cup with me to refill. Many times I pay the full price. But besides the diet pepper, there is one other thing that has remained consistent. The men.

Don't worry. This is a good post!

Whenever there is a man in front of me or behind me, going in or out of the door, they ALWAYS hold the door. Always. Okay. Maybe once a guy went in right in front of me and didn't hold the door. But every single other man has. Just think about it. Women's lib has all but destroyed a woman's chance of being adored and treated with great respect. But at Maverick, I beg to differ. How can you not find Joy in that?!

Just today, a man walked through the front door just as I was getting out of the Durango. And when I got to the door, he came back and opened it for me. Do you see? How do you not find Joy in that?!

So I will continue to frequent Maverick. For the diet pepper. And for the men.

By the way, I am way lucky enough to be married to just such a man! And that gives me even more Joy!

A Red Letter Day.

I woke up this morning to the little people whispering and running around. I kept hearing things like, "Shhh. She'll hear us", "What about presents?", "Hurry, Clean faster", and other such things. Then they came in and said I could get up. So I did.

This is what I found outside my bedroom door:

So I headed to the playroom.

Then I ran into these 2 signs:
Let's not forget we love dad, too.
When I got to the playroom, this is what was on the chalkboard:
Each of them wrote and beautified a word. Ruthie did the balloons.
They sang happy birthday and then showed me how clean the house was.
Really. It's very clean.
Thank you, my darlings!
I'm 40!
The big one.
And you know what?? It's not bad!
I've been looking forward to it for a while and am excited to be in my 40's. Wanna know why? I love who I am. I love what I've got. I love who I'm surrounded by. I love my home, my leather car interior, my exercise routine, my goat herd, my kitchen, my accomplishments, all my plans. I feel at peace with my life. And really, when you think about it, that is an excellent thing to achieve. So happy birthday to ME! And may all of you turn 40, which happens to be a very young age, with much zip and zeal!

The Year Of The Ribbit.

I mean RABBIT!

Chinese New Year was on Wednesday. And now it's Friday. But since the whole thing is called Spring Festival in China and lasts for 2 weeks, I figure it was all good. I put our Chinese characters on the front door. Spring. Good Fortune. Good Luck. And I put the lanterns up by the front door and above the kitchen table. Festive.

We decided to tone down the Chinese New Year festivities this year. I won't explain. So just accept it. We did choose to go out to a Chinese restaurant this year. On Friday night!

Is it just me or is my face slimmer?

Now I want to clarify some things. Isaac is not asleep. Daniel's head isn't really shaped like that.

Thank you. Now that that's out of the way...

We got the dinner for a family of 5. And wished we had invited another family to join us.

Kim H.---next year.

There was so much food!! So much food!! So! Much! Food!

We brought home enough to last the weekend.
I was so proud of Sam, who has been on a weird hunger strike for ages now. He tried a ton of stuff. But not the shrimp. I didn't try the shrimp either. It has to do with my fear of water and stuff in the ocean. I'm grossing myself out now.

We had a fun night together. Now Daniel and I are going to spend my last evening in my 30's together.

Good night!

Interior Decorating.

This morning Isaac was on a stool getting his instant breakfast drink he has with his breakfast.

There weren't many left in the big box so he began decorating.

All along the top of the door frame.

I'll keep them there. It adds spark to the kitchen.

And each day he'll get one down to make for breakfast.
Silly Isaac.

Baby Month.

It's February. That means goat kids.

Look here at Oreo.

She's about ready to pop.

The kids think she's have 2 kids.

Hmmmm.

And then there is Blackjack.

She has thinned down.

Daniel and I am wondering if the kid died.

Or she's having a super small kid.

Hmmmm.

When Uncle Lewis comes again, he'll take Cas and get her, um,

"with kid". I guess it's called breeding.

Do we really want to breed her?

These are the ones we're waiting on.

I'm really hoping they'll be born without problem and without my help.

Wish me luck!

And...be honest, you thought it was our baby month, didn't you?

Mwaaahaaahaaa.