So, a few days ago, Mikey informed me (and I quote): "Mom, if I was still a baby and living in heaven, and I could look down and see all the moms in all the world and pick any that I wanted, you would definitely be...(drumroll)...my SECOND pick." Nice. At least I made the top ten, right?
I then asked him who his first pick would be. He answered: "Oh, I don't know. Probably the old you, before you dyed your hair black."
Who knew that dying my hair had such a huge affect on my parenting skills? Apparently blondes don't only have more fun, they're better mothers. Did I mention that I have an appointment tomorrow to have my hair dyed even darker black? It's true. Hopefully CPS doesn't get wind of it and come to take my children away...
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Now That's A Good Oven Mitt
So, we had dinner at the Campbell's a few weeks ago. They cooked up some delicious veggies on their BBQ. It was so yummy that we were inspired to go out and buy a BBQ of our own. Of course, if you buy a BBQ, you have to buy all the accessories. Which means we also got all manner of skewers, grills, grates, pans, wood chips, natural charcoal, pressed charcoal, and new heavy duty oven mitts. The oven mitts were $4.99 each, and they were super high quality. How high quality, you ask? Well, the first night we lit up our BBQ, Chad caught his hand on fire. Yes, on fire. We're talking flames. Then he marched proudly into the house and informed me that the mitt worked so well, he barely even felt it. Sure enough, the mitt had a small spot on the paw that was still smoldering, but Chad's hand showed no signs of wear. Now that's a good oven mitt.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
A Good Friend
Last night we got a call letting us know that a dear friend of ours was killed in his home. He was thirty years old (thirty-one next month). It was a random break-in that ended in his death. It was so tragic and so completely unexpected that it has been hard to process. How do you begin to say goodbye to someone who wasn't supposed to leave just yet?
Travis and Chad were best friends. They kept each other active when they were the only members of their respective families going to church. They helped each other prepare for their missions. They wrote each other constantly while they were in the field. They encouraged each other to date worthy lds ladies once they got home. When Chad was sick, Travis came over to give him a blessing. They talked the same. They laughed the same. They were more than friends, they were brothers.
Chad and I are married, in part, because of Travis. I fell in love with Chad the first time I saw him, but I was far too shy to talk to him. I tried once, and ended up hiding in a stall in the ladies room. Travis called me and talked to me for hours, encouraging me to build up the confidence to "woo" my future husband. He was a groomsman at our wedding. He stood in the circle when our babies were blessed. He loaned us $50 at a time when our account rarely had a positive balance. He introduced Chad to Tony Robins and success literature, which eventually gave Chad the confidence to go self employed and pull our struggling family above the poverty line. He was a larger than life character--funnier, stronger, more spiritual, more charismatic, more talented than a "real" person should be. He did more with his 30 years than most of us will do with our 80.
Right before his death, he started writing a book: "Raising You." Travis had, in essence, raised himself. He had made himself the great man he was without the benefit of a traditional family, a home, or any sense of financial security. He was good because he chose to be good. He will forever remain an example to all who had the great privilege of knowing him.
I know that my blog is a silly spot to put all this down, but I don't know where else to put it. Thank you so much, Travis, for teaching us to be better than we thought we could be. No one could ever possibly replace you. You will be deeply missed.
Travis and Chad were best friends. They kept each other active when they were the only members of their respective families going to church. They helped each other prepare for their missions. They wrote each other constantly while they were in the field. They encouraged each other to date worthy lds ladies once they got home. When Chad was sick, Travis came over to give him a blessing. They talked the same. They laughed the same. They were more than friends, they were brothers.
Chad and I are married, in part, because of Travis. I fell in love with Chad the first time I saw him, but I was far too shy to talk to him. I tried once, and ended up hiding in a stall in the ladies room. Travis called me and talked to me for hours, encouraging me to build up the confidence to "woo" my future husband. He was a groomsman at our wedding. He stood in the circle when our babies were blessed. He loaned us $50 at a time when our account rarely had a positive balance. He introduced Chad to Tony Robins and success literature, which eventually gave Chad the confidence to go self employed and pull our struggling family above the poverty line. He was a larger than life character--funnier, stronger, more spiritual, more charismatic, more talented than a "real" person should be. He did more with his 30 years than most of us will do with our 80.
Right before his death, he started writing a book: "Raising You." Travis had, in essence, raised himself. He had made himself the great man he was without the benefit of a traditional family, a home, or any sense of financial security. He was good because he chose to be good. He will forever remain an example to all who had the great privilege of knowing him.
I know that my blog is a silly spot to put all this down, but I don't know where else to put it. Thank you so much, Travis, for teaching us to be better than we thought we could be. No one could ever possibly replace you. You will be deeply missed.
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