Slight modification to my last post

"But it's also nice to be home . . . with a garage door that now opens."

That isn't actually true. It is nice to be home, BUT our garage door really doesn't open. We thought we had fixed it although it continued to open rather slowly. Today's *blessing* is the van was out when we REALLY couldn't get it to open. Upon further inspection both springs have busted and need replacing. AND, after talking to my neighbor whose garage door did the same thing, she's amazed we were able to open it manually the night we left for California. When we remember the Lord, he will always bless . . . even at 2 am.

It just didn't feel right to be reading this . . .

on the beach, in a short sleeved shirt, wearing flip flops, with kids playing in the ocean, in sunny 75-degree weather. I had started this book before I left on vacation for Southern California, but absolutely found I couldn't even unpack it.

Our "holiday" (as the Europeans refer to it) was the right prescription for the January blahs. Our trip took us to Sea World, the Mira Mesa 1st ward where at least 4 different people introduced themselves to us and asked if we were new (smile, smile) or just visiting (smiles quickly evaporating), the beach, the San Diego temple, Discovery Science Center, and Disneyland. Our vacation blessings began on departure.

Blessing #1: At 2 o'clock in the morning, on the day we were leaving, with all 6 of us buckled in our van . . . the garage door wouldn't open. No time was lost as we pulled the emergency string and lifted it manually. For a slight moment we all sat there a little stunned to think we couldn't even back out of our driveway.

Blessing #2: As we breakfasted in Vegas, I discovered that I had inadvertently left my Palm Pilot at home along with the case that houses my driver's license and credit cards. I was ID-less for the remainder of our trip. When we purchased our advance tickets online for Sea World, the instructions clearly stated I would have to show ID since we were buying a year pass (this is to insure that I don't hand my pass over to someone else to use). I was pretty sure I would be buying another ticket to get in. But upon arrival at Sea World, they issued our cards and took a scan of my fingerprint. The blessing is that my fingerprint worked the second day and they didn't ask for my ID.

Blessing #3: Kiersten's reappearing watch. The first time she left it at the bus stop in Disneyland. On our way out of the park the next night we decided to stop by the lost and found to see if Ty's hat had been recovered from Splash Mountain. It wasn't there (that will be Blessing #5 if it actually comes in the mail), but Kiersten's watch had been turned in. Oh, the joy of reunification. However, that was short-lived. On our way home, the tradition has been to stop at the Cache Valley Cheese Factory in Beaver. There she took it off and left it on the counter but was nice enough to tell us 20 miles down the road while we could still turn around. However, none of us were too pleased about the extra 40 minutes tacked on to our already long drive, and I was more than happy to just leave it there and let her buy a new one with her own money. But Ty remembered the joy on her face when it was found the first time and didn't want to let her down. I guess it pays to be a daddy's girl.

Blessing #4: Nobody got sick until we got home. The entire month before we left our prayers always included asking that no one get sick before our trip. Outside of Beaver Nate started to complain of a headache. I chalked it up to too many hours in the car and sent him to school the next day. I ended up checking him out early and he's been sick for 2 days now but it on the mend.

I had an incredible amount of fun planning this vacation. I even got a little giddy over the packet I put together which included maps of all our destinations, maps of the theme parks, coupons, hotel confirmations. Vacationing is fun. I even started thinking about where we should go next. But it's also nice to be home . . . with a garage door that now opens.

A portent for Shakespearean flair

Ah, Nate.

Cetu, betu, etu, Brutus?

What do you get when your kid packs his own lunch?

This.

Nate came home today and pulled his tub of cookie dough out of his backpack. He informed he had cookie dough and a juice for lunch. Bad mommy!

Birds + Bees = Clueless

Linda emailed me the other day wanting to know the book we used to teach our kids about the birds and the bees. We decided age 8 is a good age to have "the talk." I gave Kiersten the talk shortly after she turned 8. With Erik I decided to wait a little longer but it has been on my mind for the past month or so and Linda's email helped facilitate some action.

So today was the day.

Ty took him on a "date." (I wanted to come along but Tyler didn't want to overwhelm him.) Later Ty told me how clueless he was about the whole thing. He said it hadn't even crossed his mind why girls and boys are different. Or where babies come from. Kiersten acted pretty much the same. I am glad we caught them early before they got that education elsewhere. I just hope they feel comfortable enough with Tyler and me to come to us if they have any questions. More than anything I'm grateful for clueless children and pray that I can keep them naive for as long as possible.

A New Year and those pesky resolutions

Our white stocking that hangs in the middle of all the others at Christmas to remind us that Christ should be at the center of everything we do.

'Twas the night before Christmas as I walked through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The presents had been wrapped and placed under the tree,

I paused, tired, excited, and then giggled with glee.

The stockings were hanging and were beautifully filled,

No one had been forgotten, though the credit card was billed.

As I looked at the scene with the stockings on the ledge,

I noticed one empty, the one on the edge.

Where's the Spirit of Christmas—What have I done?

The children's stockings are full, except for this one.

It was the stocking intended for the child of Bethlehem.

The white stocking for Jesus that was hung up by them.

Of all the people at Christmas, that might be forgotten

How could I not remember the Fathers Only Begotten?

Only He had been left out of the festivities,

As we planned and prepared all, for our families.

As I pondered, I realized this just was not right!

It was His birth that was being celebrated, after this night.

I resolved then and there to remember The Lord,

And quickly made changes that were easy to afford.

I hung the white stocking in a special place in our home,

And corrected the atmosphere to provide a more spiritual tone.

On Christmas morning I gathered the family together,

And each of us wrote on a special piece of paper.

We gave Jesus a gift which we placed in the stocking,

A sincere change of heart, not there for the mocking.

The white stocking hung in our home as a symbol for us,

Of the true meaning of Christmas—the Savior, The Lord Jesus.

So take your white stocking and hang it with pride,

Remember the Savior, put his gift inside.

Each year after Christmas each member of our family puts together their New Year's resolutions which includes how much they weigh, how tall they are, and their age and then puts them in the white stocking to be opened the following year. The anticipation was great last night as we weighed in and measured to see who had grown the most over the past year. Drum roll . . . and the winner for 2008 is . . . ASHLYN! She grew a whopping 3 1/2 inches and gained 5 pounds.

Do I get any wiser year to year? Not really. I always have great ambitions as a new year dawns and then I get to the end and realize I didn't even come close. I did compete in my first 5K and finished the Book of Mormon again, but the kids' scrapbooks sit for yet another year. And what did I write this year? Only a more lengthy list, maybe in hopes that I'll come off conquerer of at least a few. Nate's really the wise one. Make one goal and you're sure to accomplish it in 365 days.