We drove a million miles from Utah to Texas in a semi-reliable U-Haul, where at one point prayer overtook the tiny engine and saved us from breaking down going over a mountain.
I honestly thought that after graduating from Kingwood High School, I'd never come back. I was a Texan but my roots in Houston were shallow; I'd only lived there a year and a half before leaving for college. But there we were, pulling into my parents' driveway amidst the pine trees and opressive humidity.
Bryce started school and immediately found his niche with a great group of friends: Lane, Rhonda, and Stella. I found a job--with a salary!--as an insurance administrator at a barge transportation company, proving that enduring six horrible months at the insurance agency had not been in vain. With school and work sorted out, we left the suburbs and moved into an apartment in the city.
I felt proud that my salary supported us. I felt proud that Bryce was doing so well in school. For a year or so, we were content to push forward and throw ourselves into work, study, and church. (Our first callings in the ward were unconventional: Scheduling Secretary for me; Building Czar for Bryce.)
Eventually we felt ready to add volunteer work to the mix. I searched the newspaper under "Volunteer Opportunities" and circled the ones that interested me. I called on a few, but they were too far away or didn't fit our schedules. Finally I called on a great match--Casa de Esperanza, not to far from where we lived. We began to volunteer on Thursday evenings.
The home had six children living there: brothers named Christopher, James, and Jimmy; a baby named Lynette; a preschooler named Brian; and the most adorable little boy we'd ever seen, named Tyce.
Bryce and I walked in that first day, knowing we were to help the house parents (two recently college-graduated young ladies) do things like fold laundry, play with kids, and read bedtime stories. Shannon called from the kitchen, "You can come back here! We're just finishing up dinner. We have two in high chairs, and they're ready to get out."
First I released 11-month-old Christopher. "Just put him on his tummy," Shannon instructed. I did, then moved down the line to Tyce. I released him and did the same thing. But to my surprise, he got up off the floor, stood up and smiled--and walked away!
Bryce and I loved coming each week. As volunteers we weren't allowed to know the children's situations but we could sense some of their issues; one was medically fragile, one was dangerously violent, one was developmentally delayed. But they were so much more than their issues and they all had a special place in our hearts.
At night after the kids were all in bed, we helped with chores and chatted with the house parents. One night as Bryce and I were packing up, Teleia said, out of the blue, "You guys should become foster parents."
We laughed. Was she kidding?
"Foster parents? We live in an apartment. Bryce is in school. I work. We're not experienced--we don't even have kids. Foster parents are older, stable, mature parents with a history of success when it comes to raising children. No, that just wouldn't work!" I scoffed.
"Here's how it could work, " Teleia explained. "Child care would be provided, support services would be available to you as parents. You'd go to monthly foster parent trainings and have a caseworker working closely with you. Most importantly, you would be providing a child with the stability needed to grow emotionally and socially, if even for a short while. I know you could do it. Casa would support you every step of the way."
We left that night with a lot to think about. In the car I said, "Can you believe that? Pretty weird, huh?"
Bryce replied, "Yeah . . . "
"But it kinda sounds doable . . . if we wanted to do it, that is," I said.
It was a crazy idea that wouldn't go away. We agreed to pray about it.
That night, it was as if divine hands took us by the shoulders and literally steered us right instead of left. We felt compelled to change courses. We felt a burning, clear answer that we could not deny.
Yes, we got an answer. Yes. Yes. YES. We didn't know how or why, or for how long, but the answer was YES.
With the ball set in motion, there was no stopping it. In a matter of weeks we left our volunteer positions, said goodbye to our houseparent friends. Bryce quietly gave each child a blessing before leaving.
And then one evening in December, we packed up bags of toys and clothes for a 17-month-old, curly-headed toddler about to join our family, if only for a while.
The drive seemed to take forever. In fact, our little backseat passenger fell asleep. Upon arriving at our apartment, Bryce and I looked at each other, nervous and excited--and took a deep breath.
"Wake up, Tyce, " Bryce whispered. "You're home."
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Our Story of Adoption--Part 5
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Friday, November 20, 2009
Our Story of Adoption--Part 4
So Bryce and I dated for 9 months (and two of those I was in Italy for a study-abroad program; engaged, love-sick, and pathetic). It was a gorgeous day when we were married in a beautiful ceremony in the Salt Lake temple on August 21, 1995. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
As strange as it might sound, when we first discussed having a family I didn't think about infertility. I didn't think about that deep-down feeling. I wasn't denying or challenging my earlier promptings--I just never gave them a thought. I wanted to have babies and I assumed I would, in a few years when we were ready.
We continued as a married couple at the Family Support and Treatment Center, but this time as respite house parents. We worked overnight shifts on weekends, for the children who stayed for extended periods of time.
There were several bedrooms, and some nights they were all full; sometimes we had no one. One of our first little overnight guests was a 2-year-old named Jesse who loved trucks and frequently exclaimed, "Diesel!" We tried everything we knew (not much) to help him settle in for bed. But he was the Energizer Bunny. About midnight, Bryce and I got in our bed and made Jesse a little pallet on the floor. He vroomed in circles with his toy big-rig at the foot of the bed. Eventually he crawled slower and slower, his shout of "Diesel!" became more infrequent, and finally he collapsed right there on the carpet, truck in hand.
Another time we had two sisters who took a bath before bed; the bathroom was huge, with a tub and a separate shower. The girls took turns running from one to the other, laughing and having a grand time. My first thought was to stop them from making a mess. But then I thought about how these girls were spending the night in a shelter because they couldn't go home. Maybe they needed this. Maybe they would look back and remember that in a scary time, they had a little fun. Bryce agreed. And while they made a spectacular mess, it was worth it.
Most of the kids were friendly and manageable. But some were angry and difficult. A 10-year-old boy we had one Saturday put all of my behavioral management training to the test. He threw a tricycle on the roof. He broke a toy airplane. He threw a football at me while I was cooking macaroni and cheese. I was really at my wit's end, fearing that he would escape the facility or harm the other children. After talking to him several times about our expectations I finally got on his level and said, "Here's the deal, Daniel. The things you break are the things you can play with, and that's it." I didn't think that was a particularly effective threat, but he smiled, became pleasant, and stopped acting out. Bryce and I looked at each other like, "What just happened here?" but we sure weren't complaining.
I finished school in December and went to work as a customer service representative at an insurance agency, where my psychology degree was used to deal with my incompetent boss and his staff of angry women. Bryce worked on finishing his degree in Political Science. In April we donned cap-and-gown and walked across the stage in the Marriott Center, graduated at last!
Bryce applied to several law schools, and his first pick, hands down, was Notre Dame. I exercised every particle of faith that I had to pray morning, noon, and night that he would get in. They had a program that was perfect for him, and a psychology Masters that was perfect for me. We were in love with everything Fort Bend. We would have jumped through any hoops to get there.
And Bryce got on the waiting list!
And he also got accepted to several other schools, including the University of Houston.
I crossed my fingers and prayed even harder that any day, any day, any day we'd get that acceptance letter from Notre Dame! We could practically hear the Fighting Irish chanting our names!
But time passed and there was no letter. In the summer, we even called the university. We were told to wait, that there may be room but there was no way of knowing until school started.
And like two kids with a helium balloon, we let go of that dream. We watched it float into the sky until it got smaller and smaller, and we missed it less and less. We knew we'd go where we needed to be, and apparently it wasn't Indiana.
It was Houston.
And going to Houston changed everything.
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Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Comics
Today I'm finishing up the turkeys and mashed potatoes for our youth-and-seniors Thanksgiving dinner. I made a mistake about who to invite; apparently last year we decided to include those 60 and over, and this year it was 55 and over. So some of the younger "seniors" are a little offended. Oops.
But they get in on pretty much the best activity of the year, so they should be thanking me, right?
Anyway, I'm short on time but I have this cute cartoon Mary drew to share with you. You'll want to enlarge it to read the words and see the facial expressions.
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Sunday, November 15, 2009
Our Story of Adoption--Part 3
Bryce and I walked home together nearly every evening. I worked in the Biofeedback lab at the Counseling and Development Center, and Bryce worked at the front desk in the Services for Students with Disabilities. Many nights he'd come all the way to my apartment, where I would make him dinner. I was very good at following directions on a box and I loved arranging the Hamburger Helper, orange slices, and canned green beans in artful patterns for an appreciative audience of one.
He taught my roommates to play the crazy card game Mau Mau. What were the rules? I remember making great plays, only to have Bryce say, "Oh, I forgot to tell you that you can't do that if there's a 2 played before a 9" or "Yeah, sorry, I should mention that this play is only valid during the full moon" and other such lunacy. We had many fun nights laughing and shouting, "SNOOPY FLYING ACE OF SPADES!" while Garth Brooks' "The Thunder Rolls" or Smetna's "The Moldau" played in the background. He was more popular than I was in that apartment.
And we spent our Saturdays volunteering, of course.
He was smart and funny and kind and upstanding. Many times we studied together for my religion class and I felt the Spirit very strongly as we discussed the Scriptures and the words of the Prophets.
He was a great friend. And I knew, as time went on, that he wanted to be more than that.
But I wanted to keep my options open.
Because I really did like Bryce and I had feelings for him.
{Then or now.}
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Short Visit, Fun Times
This week my dad had a convention at the South Point. In a fortuitous set of circumstances, my brother ALSO had a convention here this week, at Mandalay Bay. So we met on Thursday at the MGM for dinner and the Cirque du Soleil show "KA."
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Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Our Story of Adoption--Part 2
Time passed. I went to college. I had amazing friends and wonderful experiences at BYU. While my major was Psychology, my minor was Dating, Socializing, and Watching Brigham Do the Funky Chicken.
I also did volunteer work.
I started out as a Big Sister in the Big Brother/Big Sister Program. Mine and my partner Lance's charge was a 13-year-old girl named Jamie. She was overweight, shy, and self-conscious in most areas of life. But she loved when Lance taught her (and me) to play tennis, when we played board games, and when I talked with her about boys. She had a Jason Priestly poster on her bedroom wall, so we bonded over our fantasy crushes on 90210.
After a year and a half, Jamie "graduated" from the BBBS program. Wanting another volunteer opportunity, I asked around. Another friend introduced me to a crisis shelter called The Family Support and Treatment Center, and I had a 3-hour shift every Saturday morning. Parents who were registered for counseling were encouraged to bring their children to the crisis nursery whenever they needed a time-out to regroup and take care of pressing matters affecting the family.
I played hard with the kids. Every Saturday I went home and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich--the same thing the kids ate right before I left at noon. I loved my time with those kids. Some were a bit indifferent to the volunteers, but most were hungry for attention. One child who really touched me was a 6-year-old girl named Ashley. After spending a majority of my shift with her, she made me a card. The front was a picture of a rainbow. The inside read: "Thank you for being here. I love you. Please don't ever leave this place."
Oh! I wished I didn't have to. I wished I could take Ashley home with me, even though I was only 20, naive, and inexperienced--and she already had a family. I knew I had enough in me to bring her into my circle, to love her as my own. I remember feeling grateful to have a heart with the capacity to care for others.
The only thing missing from my work at the FSTC was someone to share the experience with. And so I asked a new friend, a sweet red-haired guy who lived in my apartment complex and worked in the office next to me in the Kimball Tower, to go with me. And he did.
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Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Our Story of Adoption--Part 1
In honor of November being National Adoption Month, I have decided to do a mini-series on our family's story, and of how we came to be.
IN THE BEGINNING
When I was a young woman, I had a feeling--a very quiet, primal instinct that I had probably never put into words--that I would not bear children. I dreamed of having a beautiful family with my husband, of course. I assumed I would have children that looked like me, who inherited my good qualities (and none of the bad). I hoped to have 6 kids--4 girls and 2 boys. In daydreaming I was no different from other girls my age. But if I really thought about it--and sometimes I did--I felt that children would not come to me in that way.
When I received my patriarchial blessing at age 16, there was a promise that one day my home would be a place for the rearing and educating of my children. After the blessing, my mom clapped her hands and said, "Hooray, that means you're going to have babies!" I think that was the first time I really knew that I wouldn't.
But I knew I would be a mother.
I knew it deep down: I felt peace, not sadness. I knew I would get married to a wonderful person, and I knew we would be parents--somehow.
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Monday, November 9, 2009
A Most Welcome Package
And inside the shredded paper were Mary's glasses.
(They were filthy. I'm dying to know where they were found. I was sure they were crushed under someone's shoe, or that a cheetah was enjoying improved vision.)
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Thursday, November 5, 2009
Sunny San Diego
I'm not usually one to suggest going away for the weekend--that's Bryce's thing. I'm the stick-in-the-mud who wants to get the shelves put up in the closet. He's the one who wants to party it up, eating out every meal in a new city.
So you can imagine his surprise when I declared, "We should go to San Diego. This weekend. Make it happen." And then I did a smart military turn like when I was in marching band. Left flank, harch!
Luckily, my wonderful husband was on board. And he likes marching band references.
So we drove to the San Diego Zoo on Friday afternoon. We only had one hour before the park closed, but what a glorious hour it was. Gorgeous weather, low crowds, well-behaved children, well-behaved animals.
Checking into our hotel was next on the list. We stayed at the Crowne Plaza, which Bryce got for a steal on Hotwire. It was an older but quite lovely hotel, with a lush interior courtyard and a glass elevator.
We settled down for the night. The three boys were in one room; Bryce and Mary and I were in the adjoining room. Mary was very put out that she merely had a roll-away bed instead of a place on the "real" bed but she, after arguing her case, accepted her lot.
So imagine this.
You're lying in bed. Beginning to drift off. But then you smell something.
Something familiar, but awful.
Cigarette smoke. Oh for the love of Pete. You go on to the balcony to see if there's someone right next to your room lighting up. But you can't see anything.
It's getting worse. It's like there are 10 people puffing right into the air vent. You check your hotel door and it says "NO SMOKING" just like you thought, so how could this be? Reason, unlike the smoke, goes out the window. You, or somebody in your party, canvasses the halls with a proverbial fire extinguisher and a snappy speech, ready to nip the problem in the butt. Literally.
But vigilante justice is not the answer. Not because you've come to your senses, but because you can't find the offender. You assume that the person must truly be smoking in the ceiling of your hotel room--that's the only explanation!
This world is full of crazy people, you think as you approach the front desk in your pajamas.
Eventually you are moved two floors away, on the other side of the hotel, away from the pretty courtyard and glass elevator. Away from the mirrored entry ways and art-lined halls. But thankfully, AWAY FROM THE SMOKE.
As a bonus, you get comped a free breakfast at the fancy hotel restaurant.
End drama. You may return your brain to its full and upright position.
On Saturday we drove to the Wild Animal Park. The highlight was going on the Cheetah Run Safari. It was totally worth the extra expense. Bryce was so nice to let me take Tyce and Mary while he ran around with Cameron and Harrison.
When we met up with the group things seemed to go downhill.
That's when Mary discovered she'd lost her glasses. People were hungry, it was hot, Cameron kept begging for a sombrero (when he meant "souvenier"), and we just seemed to suffer from a lack of organization. But the kids did get candy as we wandered around (because it was Halloween) and then half of the kids did the costume contest. And after that we went back to the hotel.
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Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Spooktacular Events
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Monday, November 2, 2009
Take a good look
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Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Flower (Girl) Power
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Monday, October 26, 2009
Gord's Gold
Last Friday Bryce and I went to the Gordon Lightfoot concert.
(Dang, Gordon, you get me every time.)
After the concert we talked about which songs we liked and didn't, whether we thought he might keel over on stage, and how glad we were to see him in concert.
(And then we said that we really need to find some singers who are closer to our own age.)
But we sure did have a fun time.
Thanks, Bryce, for being my hot date!
(And thanks, Gordon, for the show.)
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Saturday, October 24, 2009
How I Shall Repel Solicitors From Now On

see more Engrish
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Wednesday, October 21, 2009
A Cause for Celebration
Tyce and his newest cousin Xochi.
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Monday, October 19, 2009
Hope for a Better World
Do you ever look at the state of the world and get depressed? I felt that way last week. Everywhere I looked--the newspaper, television, news magazine--it seemed people were glorifying hedonism and mocking religion, all the while bemoaning the state of the economy, the school system, and the family.
I was most upset about my children's futures. There are so many pretty traps and shiny lures that lead them to believe that there are no negative consequences, that everything is relative, and that fun leads to freedom. Really, it looks like everbody IS doing it, no one will know, one time won't hurt, and you can stop anytime you want to. What used to be whispered encouragement on the brink of indecision in a dark alley is now a bright, bold advertising campaign in the light of day.
It is an uphill battle to counteract the message that immediate gratification is normal and fun. (And who doesn't want to be normal and have fun?)
So I was feeling depressed.
While the kids were in preschool I decided to go on a walk at the park.
And that made it worse.
If you had seen what I had seen, you'd know why a professor I had coined the term "underbelly of society."
After a while I sat down on a bench to meditate. A scripture from the Book of Mormon came to my mind, Ether 12:4.
Wherefore, whose believeth in God might with surety hope for a better world, yea, even a place at the right hand of God, which hope cometh of faith, maketh and anchor to the souls of men, which would make them sure and steadfast, always abounding in good works, being led to glorify God.
And I thought, I believe in God. And I should hope for a better world.
I also thought about Jesus himself, who walked this imperfect earth and saw vice and wickedness, poverty and pain, ignorance and corruption; more than I have seen, or ever will see. He said:
These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.
John 16:33
He has overcome the world. For me. For my children.
And I began to feel hope again. I began to feel light again. I began to feel peace again.
And that led to gratitude.
I am so grateful for Jesus Christ, my Redeemer. He took upon himself the pains and sins of the whole world, so that we can be repent and be made perfect, and attain eternal life. I know that he is the literal Son of God, who came to earth to fulfill the divine Plan to save us from sin and from death. He knows our challenges. He knows how to help us. If we have faith in Him and obey His commandments, we will have peace and joy--even in a blemished, tarnished world.
I am not the only voice my children will hear, but I need to be the clearest one they hear.
And I know that that doesn't mean that they won't have temptations, make mistakes, or even fall away.
We live in an imperfect state filled with imperfect people. (Myself included. Obviously.)
But through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, we can change and be better. I can change and be better.
And starting with myself, I can--with surety--hope for a better world.
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Thursday, October 15, 2009
My trip to a Certain Lingerie Store
I sort through the mail, handing Bryce the bills and tossing the junk. I start to ditch a certain flyer with a $10 off coupon inside, when Bryce stops me.
"You should take advantage of that," Bryce says, helpfully. "I mean, since you have a coupon and everything."
"Really? It might take a while," I caution him. "That's why I haven't gone before."
"I'll take the twins with me to JCPenney while you shop," he offers.
And so we drive to the mall the very next day.
****
As I enter the store I try to adjust to the amount of pink.
"Hi, can I help you look for anything in particular?" a saleslady named Kiki chirps.
"Thanks, no, I'm just looking," I say, clutching my coupon.
"Let me show you our new line over here." Kiki takes my hand and I follow. "Now we have these and these. Or you might like this one. What size are you? Okay, here's one for you to try on."
Kiki leaves and another saleslady descends.
"Hi, can I help you find something? I see you already have one of our new products. Can I show you some other good choices over here? My name is Chloe."
"Uhhh, I'm just looking, thanks," I plead. I double back and stuff the item back into the drawer when Chloe isn't looking. I take a few steps around a corner, when I'm ambushed again, this time by a huge black woman named Jane.
"Oooh, girl, I know just what you need," Jane nods. "Umm hmmm. Same as me. Take a look." She shows me her bra strap. "Like the leopard? Looks good with everything. Here you go. Rhonda, take her to a fitting room with that one, and the new Bio-Fit, and this one . . . "
Somehow I find myself marching off to the fitting room with a stack of leopard-print unmentionables. And I think to myself, there is no way Jane is the same size as me.
****
"Knock knock!" I hear two dressing rooms down. "How are those working for you?"
"Great," replies the half-dressed customer.
"Mind if I see?" the fitting specialist asks, opening the door.
Oh pickles, do not open my door! I silently scream.
***
"So how did that work for you?" the fitting specialist asks as I exit the dressing room, fully clothed. I was too fast for her to take a look for herself.
"Yes to this one, no to these," I say as I hand her the rejects.
When no one is looking I exchange the leopard-print for something more conservative. I take my one item and run to the cash register. On my way I hear, "Can I help you find something today, Ma'am?"
I hand over my coupon and the sales associate rings up my purchase. "Did you find everything you needed okay?" she asks with a friendly smile.
Please, stop harrassing me. Take your commission! I can't handle the pressure! I want to whine.
"Yes, I did, thank you," I answer instead.
Decorum is the hallmark of refinement, I tell myself.
And then I book it out of the store, almost knocking over a mostly-nude mannequin and two tank top-wearing 12-year-olds who, frankly, should not be in this store unsupervised.
But I made it.
And I bought something.
And I used my coupon.
And that made me smile.
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Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Just some photos
5. I don't get many good posed pictures of Cameron but I think this shot shows that he's definitely a cutie.
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Thursday, October 8, 2009
The student becomes the teacher
She said, "Don't worry, Mom. I'll teach you. Here's the first problem, 46 x 7. How would you break down 46?"
"Four times 10," I dutifully answer.
"That's right! So we can write it like this: (40 x 7). And then you have 6 left over, so what do you do next?"
"Six times seven."
"Good job! So then we take (40 x 7) + (6 x 7) and what do you get?"
My mental calculator whirs and clicks until I say, a little too loud, "322!"
"See, Mom? You did it. You are smarter than most of my slow-witted classmates."
Notice she said MOST.
But I will take the math compliments where I can get them, thank you very much.
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Tuesday, October 6, 2009
General Conference weekend
General Conference is a semi-annual two-day spiritual feast. Inspiring speakers from church leadership, as well as music from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir always strengthen my resolve to do better, to be better.
Bryce took Tyce and Mary to Utah, which I mentioned earlier. They had a great time on Friday night at the BYU vs. Utah State football game with Grandpa Al. Mary got two skeins of cotton candy--that's what I got from her report on the game.
As they were walking from the stadium to the car, Bryce asked Mary if she was doing okay. She said, yes, but that she was a little tired and wheezy. So Tyce asked if she wanted a piggy-back ride . . . and he carried her on his back the entire way to the vehicle.
The whole way!
Sheesh, it makes me start to cry when I think about his kindness, and her willingness to accept it. I am glad they went on this trip if for no other reason than to put that friendship back into their brother-sister relationship.
Per Bryce's report, Tyce and Mary got along that well the whole weekend. They all enjoyed spending time with Grandpa Al and Grandma Judy, as well as the Prices, watching General Conference on TV, playing board games, picking raspberries (Mary) and looking at pictures from Judy's trip to England.
So even though I missed them, I am really glad they went. (And let's face it, if we'd all gone the twins would have run around like semi-domesticated raccoons and I probably would have ended up crying.)
Cameron and Harrison and I stayed home but we did not have a boring time. I put on my FUN MOM hat and took them to Chuck E. Cheese. After that we went to the store to spend their birthday money (on swords, ink stamps, pirate necklaces, and candy) and I got craft supplies for the next day.
On Sunday we painted masks, made sugar cookies, had a picnic at the park, and made craft-foam jack-o-lanterns. It was a blast.
And can you believe that I fit all 8 hours of General Conference in there? Thank goodness for the DVR.
The boys really enjoyed the talk by L. Tom Perry on Sunday morning about the building of the Manti temple. The faithful members over 130 years ago didn't know how to build a roof, but they they knew that God wanted them to build a temple. Using what they knew about shipbuilding, their architectual plans illustrated an inverted boat as a roof. Cameron and Harrison found that fascinating. They asked me to rewind it several times, so they could see how the plans turned upside down from boat to roof. That may be the only thing they really listened to the entire weekend, but I think it made an impression. To me it really shows the confidence the early saints had, to act as Nephi:
I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.
1 Nephi 3:7
I thought General Conference was particularly wonderful this time. The Mormon Tabernacle was, to me, unbelievable. I tried to sing along a few times and realized I was ruining it for myself. (And you know how I like to sing along.)
One speaker I loved is Elder Holland on Sunday afternoon--his words were so, so powerful. I have found myself thinking about them over and over. I felt my heart soaring as I cried out YES! to his testimony of the Book of Mormon. You can listen to his talk yourself here, if you like. Other standouts were Elder Scott (Saturday morning) and President Monson (Sunday morning). There were others but these were a few of my favorites.
So like I said, a great weekend. And I am thinking of donning a lilac choir robe for this next Sunday in an attempt to improve my singing voice.
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10:48 AM
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