tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79105401942013551952024-03-18T22:10:21.777-05:00A Girl named Gayagirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.comBlogger571125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-9040763002715842862016-11-02T09:22:00.000-05:002016-11-07T21:05:17.415-06:00Deeter's "The BYU game from New York-Washington DC"<center>
At parent teacher conference, Mrs. Silverberg presented me with Deeter's story he had been working on but "ran out of time." The detail is impressive and needs it's place in history so I'm transcribing it here.</center>
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"I went to New York on Wednesday right after school and we got there at 10:30 pm. We took a uber to our apartment and our fish named Chris. We had a very good view of Downtown Manhattan so we went to bed. In the morning I was on the balcony for one hour and then I went inside and my family was awake. So I hugged my mom and went downstairs and said hi to Chris and then ate a bar and then looked at Downtown Manhattan. So we woke up ate breakfast at the mug cafe. I got apple juice, eggs and bacon. My family ate good food too! Then we bot six bananas and then took a subway to brooklyn bridge park. We looked around and we saw Downtown. My dad two brothers and one sister had ice cream. My mom bot me a crepe it looked really tasty. Then my brothers came and got one. After that we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and bot souvenirs and then we went home for a long time. Then we went to the Play Aladdin, and the gini was very funny and the play different from the movie. The next morning we went to Prospect Park for one hour. Then we took a 90 minute boat tour. Then we took a train all the way Washington D.C.! We got there at 7:30 pm, so we went to bed at our apartment called 425 Massuchussets Street. So we woke up had breakfast at Wicked Waffle. We had waffles with chocolate syrup powdered sugar and yeah. Then we walked to the white house where the President lives. We saw a Police on the roof. We found a spot to run. I watched a squirrel eat on a tree eating little by little. Then we raced it was fun like parks should be. Then we went to look at the Washington monument. Then we went to the lincoln memorial and counted the 87 steps. We went to a lot of places but we needed to be prepared for the BYU game. So we went home and relaxed for a while. Then we got an uber to redskins stadium were we play West Virginia. even though we were away they let us sing our fight song. So now the game has started. We kick off we tackle them. We force a punt. We return to the 50. We had a 10 yard pass to nick kurts. Then we ran it to Jamaal Williams tis we got to the 40. Then we punted. After that they got a 85 yard pass to Gibson. Then they ran a 5-yard touchdown to Shell. That put them up 7-0. So then we returned to the 45-yard line we scored a touchdown. They threw another long pass to Gibson again. And then scibor howard ran in. Before half time we got a feild goal to make it 14-10. Then hifo got an explosive return. We scored another touchdown."</center>
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And this is where he ran out of time....! I'm dying at his detail. Especially the football game. I watched the exact same game as him and could have told you about 0 of those plays. Also, the illustrations are pretty impressive. Definitely a keeper.</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-50085152037427907252016-10-26T21:08:00.001-05:002016-10-26T21:08:36.760-05:00Dallin B<center>
Dang, I've had a few tiny things that I'm like "How am I going to remember all these details that <i>I absolutely don't want to forget</i>?!!"</center>
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They're insignificant, but they're of my boy.</center>
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1)my B man brings a Sparkling Ice to school. Everyday. Like it's a necessity. And I can't help but support it because I totally recognize what this dumb bottle of juice represents to him- freedom, maturation, something bigger than he was a year ago.</center>
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I don't know exactly why but it melts me.</center>
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2) Since B started school he's made a new friend, Helen. I'm trying to think when the first time I heard about her was? I remember hearing her name, and then I remember I would see B walking with her every now and then on my weekly car pool run. I also remember B coming home one day saying that Helen's dad had a stroke (or some medical misfortune). I asked him if he wanted to make cookies to bring to her and he did. So we (ahem...ME) made cookies and he brought them to her at school with a little sticky note saying he hoped her dad got better. We were at a volleyball game a couple days later and she was there (apparently her mom is the vball coach) and looking for me nonetheless. She wanted to make sure and thank me for the cookies. Off and on, I've heard a little more and asked him if he likes her etc etc. Digging for <i>specks</i> of info without prying. There's also been talk about Dallin's friends' girlfriends. ???? Yes, we are in 6th grade and the male/female spark has been lit. Anyway, yesterday B came up to me and was all, "Mom, can I ask Helen out just to make everyone leave me alone?" Or something like that. Main points being, 1)he wanted to ask Helen out and 2)he was asking me permission to do it. </center>
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If we're being honest, add a million exclamation points right here. My boy asked me permission for something personal which just shows a level of trust and teamwork has been achieved between us. We had a small conversation about a couple of things (why he was really wanting to do this, ie: do you really like her, what each of us thought girl/boy relationships should look like at this point and down the road (thankfully we were on the same page)) and then I said I thought that was fine. I'll be honest, I played it cool on the outside but something funny was happening on my inside! My B's getting older and it makes my heart kind of want to do a slow small burst. Probably just with pride because man, he's a good kid, but it's a different feeling and all my heart knows to associate it with is a little sadness or hurt or something. But really it's just a tender feeling.</center>
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So there's all that.</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-858034658263156202016-10-25T13:54:00.001-05:002016-10-25T13:54:30.070-05:00Alchemist Thoughts<center>
Recently I've felt the need to read The Alchemist again. I feel like those are strong words-- "felt the need"- for simply talking about a book but you have to understand, I describe The Alchemist as a life-changing book for me. And guess what? Via my perspective, I'm not exaggerating.</center>
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A year or so ago, I picked up the book that I had heard so much about. Not the story particularly, but the book. Mainly it was described to me as "an interesting read" or "I think you'd like it" or "it's just this little story but it's good". All of which are true, but this interesting little story I did in deed like, changed me. </center>
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So sitting at a somewhat stagnant point in my journey with a lot of questions and a lack of personal clarity, I've been wanting to read the book that brought peace and deliberate action into my life.</center>
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Round 2, want to know how far I've gotten? Through the introduction. But now might be a good time to pause and say the introduction might be my absolute favorite part of the book. It's not a fable or allegory with interpretation left up to the reader. It's concise, words are not minced, it's straightforward and nothing short of inspiring and <i>personal</i>.</center>
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In fact, it starts out talking about our own <i>personal </i>calling, a calling from God. And does this ever resonate with me. I feel like this is a thought I'm constantly running circles around. This reading I've been inspired to do something different about the age-old thought-- I've been praying, asking God to help me see more clearly what that personal calling for me looks like. Obviously I have <i>some</i> ideas since it's clear that this purpose is from within and has always been in our hearts but clarity isn't my strong suit.</center>
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As I kept reading about the obstacles that stop us from achieving/chasing that personal calling, specific goals and dreams came to mind, each of which I'm at varying points of pursuit. </center>
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1) running at 8 min/mile half marathon</center>
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(completely on hold, and maybe even forgotten or dismissed, until reading this)</center>
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2) being a mom </center>
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(have dreamed of this since a little girl. and while I know and remember that, my dreams are lacking detail. I want to add color to the sketch and have it be a more satisfying realization of my dreams)</center>
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3) be a teacher</center>
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(have the opportunity to teach seminary now. how am I pursuing the dream of being an <b>excellent</b> teacher?)</center>
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These bullet points alone have brought so much hope and purpose to my journey in these last few days. I have to figure out how to keep them on the front burner and keep them as a motivator. One thing I knew I had to do was start journaling about them and get the ideas edited and solidified to a tangible place. Check mark on that now!</center>
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(PS I finally just bought the audio book version of The Alchemist and have LOVED listening to it in the background of whatever I'm doing. But can I already point out the HUGEST let down??? The intro isn't part of the audio version:(( )</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-68413859250988754932016-10-03T13:20:00.005-05:002016-10-03T13:20:54.954-05:00A Time to Kill thoughts<center>
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I just finished watching “A Time to Kill” again and that movie never loses it’s ability to stir all the dormant feelings to life. I know the movie is framed to portray the desired dichotomy- the rambunctious white boys alongside the calm, family oriented black community; the white’s disrespect for the law versus the black’s law abiding citizens. I see that it’s a picture being painted for me rather than a complete reflection of reality. But I get it. And mission accomplished to start a very controversial chain of events.</div>
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The movie does so much more than illustrate the difference between black and white, the injustice that lies in color no matter how hard we try to ignore it. Or no matter how hard we try to accept it. That’s not the first time that reaction has been pulled from this movie.</div>
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This time, more blatantly was the underlying tone that controversy is far from clear cut. When one decides to take on a position to defend, it doesn’t matter what the issue, there is always obstacles that leaving you guessing, and then second-guessing time and time again both yourself and the issue. We see how we’re forced into sides. That come strong enough there’s no room for middle ground, for playing it both ways.</div>
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And that strikes me at the core for some reason. I think the older I get and the more unclear the lines are that I see, middle ground is the only place that feels safe. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the idea that we can both be right, or wrong for that matter, on any given issue. Maybe it’s because of our current position in the maturation process of said issue that has our heart telling us two distinct differences that we each feel called to fight for. Maybe it’s the way we were raised that blinds us to other possibilities. Maybe it’s fear, or faith, or ignorance, or liberty that won’t allow our minds a different perspective. I don’t know but it makes it all very confusing to me. I don’t even know why i want everything to be so clear cut to me but I can tell that it’s super bothersome that it’s not. </div>
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In his closing argument, Matthew McConaughey states that we all have an obligation to seek the truth with our hearts. He issues an abandonment of mind and pleads for an intimate inventory of the heart. Was Matthew McConaughey fighting with more of his heart than Kevin Spacey? I don’t know. And what if they were same amount heart, that Kevin Spacey believed Samuel Jackson’s guilt and corrupt motivation with the <i>exact</i> same amount of heart that Matthew McConaughey believed his innocence and temporary insanity? Then what?</div>
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This is why conflict leaves my head spinning. This is why I feel like I avoid taking a stance on a lot of things, that there is no clear right or wrong. But then writing it out and watching a movie that so beautifully illustrates the exemption of middle ground, it beckons the same rule that Matthew McConaughey won with— we have an obligation to seek truth <i>with our own hearts</i> and then roll with it. Let your heart be the judge and allow the passion to follow. Be willing to eat your words if that time comes. Be willing to be humble and be humbled. Be willing to fight for something that will lose. And don’t worry, I’m not preaching to you, simply to myself.</div>
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(also written on the way to Hawaii. Better late than never, y'all.)</div>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-56170841478678036392016-10-03T13:18:00.002-05:002016-10-03T13:18:44.379-05:00Werk<center>
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On the way home from the baseball game last night, Porter was all cute talking about The Fam. “Dang, it’s not going to be the same in Hawaii without it being the six of us. It’s just better when we’re all together.” Now, if there’s something more that warms a mama’s heart, I don’t know what it is. Jack Johnson said it best when he declared, “It’s always better when we’re together.” Maybe that’s why I love Jack.</div>
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That being said, I know in theory even if not always recognizing it in practice that there is a flip side to every sacrifice. And I already know one in this case. I’ve recognized it from young the lack of chemistry in Porter and Deeter. Innately it just isn’t there. I’m sure we could go into factors that contribute to this but that’s not the point of my post. Also, I have made mention over the last couple years that there are more and more moments of improvement, even where they enjoy each other’s company. Lately, there have been quite a few common interests- basketball on the Daily’s trampoline, the X-Box, fantasy football, football and I can’t think of more, but they’ve been occurring. They more often than not occur when Dallin is out of the picture. It’s a default system that forces them to either thrive alone or figure each other out and I feel like they’ve been doing a real good job at the latter. So here we are on a 6 hour flight to Hawaii, and those two boys have been cuddled up playing the iPad together and sharing headphones to watch Aladdin together and they’re building memories. Between the two of them, a relationship that needs a lot of those moments to sustain what started out as lack of chemistry. It warms my heart to see these boys become true brothers. That’s worth a sacrifice. </div>
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(written on the way to Hawaii in June '16, just now saw it again and need it in the forever files)</div>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-86540209634614100022016-07-08T12:00:00.001-05:002016-07-08T12:01:34.255-05:00HI,Honolulu<center>
HI, Honolulu</center>
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so, porter went to Stephen Curry over night camp, he had a very, very fun time, and Curry went in to porter's dorm room his roommate fainted! Stephen Curry taught them his ball handling drills and shooting drills.</center>
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before that, we spent 4 days in a condo we discovered 7 Brothers, and right by there, there was a place with shaved ice which is a snow cone that's shaved.</center>
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we went the polynesian cultural/culture center. it was really fun. we went to watch ha/the breath of life, it was amazing, and we went to a luau also amazing and we discovered pounders.</center>
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we went in to a new house</center>
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we also went horse back riding for 45 minutes.</center>
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went to a hole Lot of beaches. my favorite beach was called Hukilau</center>
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porter's camp is over now. we went to a resort called turtle bay for 10 to 4 ,then we left for our flight.</center>
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<a href="mailto:agirlnamedgay@gmail.com">by deeter hansen</a></center>
agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-29998933620714254412016-06-23T17:52:00.000-05:002016-06-23T17:52:04.837-05:00Once in a Lifetime<center>
It's small but huge, unexpected yet not all that shocking. But since it's personal, since it's <i>my</i> experience, it's everything on the bigger scale. It is huge, it was unexpected, and it was the best reminder ever that things do work out for me in the way <i>I</i> want them to from time to time.</center>
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Porter started talking about this Steph Curry camp and after a couple mentions I told him we'd take a look at it. Google showed that there was in deed a Steph Curry camp and that-- of all places-- it was being held at BYU-H. Y'all, if BYU-H wasn't already supposed to be in all caps, I'd be writing in all caps because HAWAII.</center>
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Quick time out to give the strong reminder of <i>how much I love Hawaii.</i></center>
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Google actually had other information for us as well. The camp registration was closed, as was the waiting list. Camp full.</center>
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My heart sank. Halfway for Porter, halfway for me.</center>
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The thought of a Steph Curry camp being at a church school blew my mind. What are the chances??? Even after knowing this for 2 1/2 months, it still blows my mind. The merging of all things good was happening.</center>
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Well, it was happening for 200 other people, but not Porter.</center>
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The disappointment set in but life went on because that's what life does. Normally, I'm pretty quick to move on. Missed opportunities aren't that stunning to me. I'm pretty go with the flow and of all the opportunities I've missed out on over the many years, only 2 have regrets attached to them. 1) I should've gone to a portion of the World Cup in Brazil with Yosh. 2) I should've gone and seen Jack Johnson in concert for his Here and Now tour.</center>
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All other missed opportunities have got little more than a shrug of the shoulders and an <i>it is what it is </i>response.</center>
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But not this. I couldn't shake it. I've expressed- although not strongly enough- my love for Hawaii, and then the praise hands for this camp being held at a church school.</center>
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On the other end, though, we had Porter. Porter had a rough second semester of school. There were multiple calls/emails home from a teacher or two, a call home from the principal. We had "moments" to say the least. BUT...</center>
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But at home we had this kid who had awakened a dormant ambition to be better at basketball. And who infused that desire? Steph Curry. Who was that teacher on how to be/get better? Steph Curry. Porter watched countless You Tube videos on shooting technique, dribbling drills, etc etc and then spent literal hours doing the work. Basketball was the ying to his school yang. It was inspiring to watch.</center>
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As we were trying to instill inspiration in Porter to improve his behavior at school, who did we naturally refer to as an example? Steph Curry. We found inspirational quotes that resonated, that made Porter want to a good person on and off the court, to work hard on and off the court, and he did. He put in the work at school too.</center>
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All these details combined to create a disappointment that warranted much more than the shrug of the shoulders. I knew there just <i>had</i> to be a way to remedy the sitch and my heart confirmed that by not letting it go.</center>
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I did something out of my comfort zone and emailed a friend who grew up in BYU-H (in fact her dad worked there) to see if she knew of an in. Please! But to no avail. She had no in, her dad no in.</center>
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But a couple days later she emailed me saying a Facebook friend had posted that the Oahu Marriott was auctioning off one ticket to the Steph Curry camp. For me, this felt like a mini-miracle! One, that there would be an unorthodox way to get a ticket, and two, that somehow I got my hands on that knowledge.</center>
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To submit an auction, you had to do a write up about the potential participant. It was so great to take a minute and articulate our Porter and what this camp would mean to him.</center>
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Here's the email:</center>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">A little history about my son, Porter— he is nine years old and a basketball fanatic. Although basketball has been his favorite sport for a couple of years, starting a few months ago, he spends every spare moment on the basketball court practicing shots or doing dribbling drills. It has been super fascinating to watch my creative, aloof, forgetful kid turn into a dedicated, deliberate, ambitious child all because of basketball. Steph Curry has quickly become his hero. He rotates daily between his 3 Steph Curry t-shirts. He watches Steph Curry video clips and then goes and applies the Steph Curry work ethic to try to improve his own skills. Needless to say, he’s both a huge Steph Curry and basketball fan!</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Unfortunately we only heard about the Steph Curry camp a few weeks ago:(( I was sooooooo disappointed to see it was already full. Because in addition to Steph Curry being my son’s hero, two of my sisters went to BYU-H and I was able to visit them once at the campus. The colliding of Steph Curry with BYU-H has left me with such a strong desire to somehow make this camp a reality!!!!</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Thank you so much for the opportunity— hoping that we get lucky!</span></center>
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I didn't want to get my hopes up too high but I also felt like the chances were stacked in my favor. I mean, how many people were really going to hear about this auction? And of those people, how many would be willing/able to get to Hawaii for it? BUT, you never know. Enough people wanted and were willing to go that both the camp and waiting list were full.</div>
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So the waiting began. The auction closed on Cinco de Mayo. At home we were "celebrating" with the cheers-ing of Mexican Cokes but meanwhile I was checking my email way too often, even though I also reminded myself that we were operating on Hawaiian time. Which meant that not only are they 5 hours behind us, also ain't nobody in a hurry over there. That was Thursday. Then Friday. I knew there was no chance of hearing anything over the weekend. So I thought maybe Monday by 10 pm I'd have an answer. And then if I didn't, Tuesday I would reach out.</div>
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But Monday at 6 pm, we got the news...Porter had won the entry.</div>
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My goodness, luck is on my side from time to time and this was one of those times! I remember leading up to this moment, thinking, "If Porter wins this spot, it's going to be a true testament to me that God is aware of the little things and that, despite my perspective that my dreaming rarely goes according to plan, sometimes the dream finds the finish line." I'm thankful for the hype leading up to this moment so that I was ready and could appreciate the gems when they came.<br />
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But PORTER WAS IN!!!!<br />
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We waited to tell Porter. In fact, we told Dallin first because unfortunately timing is such that Dallin is the only kid that doesn't get to make the trip:[ (He made the All-Star baseball team and the tournament starts right before we leave.) In true Dallin fashion, he accepted it like an absolute champ and then figured out a way to surprise Porter. He taped a packing list for the camp to a basketball and then asked Porter if he wanted to go outside and shoot.<br />
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True to form, Porter was (or played??) confused. An explanation was necessary and the as the days have passed, the excitement has only grown! Good times lie ahead and I am beyond ecstatic to be the chaperone on this adventure! </div>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-16371704482267438452016-06-20T08:12:00.002-05:002016-06-20T08:12:43.683-05:00Tid Bits<center>
From time to time, my mom sends us little snippets of her journal entries from years ago and I absolutely love hearing small, seemingly insignificant moments of mine and my siblings past! So in an effort to pay it forward...</center>
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*Porter is a supporter of me and I love it. Sometimes when I get frustrated with the kids not eating what I cook, I get all huffy and puffy and am all, "I'm not cooking anymore." And Porter gets all serious and says, "Mom, please don't stop cooking. I'll eat your food. Don't stop cooking." I'll always cook for you, Porter.</center>
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He knows I'm in a Photography class and he asks from time to time how my homework is going and telling me I need to practice. (Pretty sure he's heard me say I'm a bit frustrated...) This weekend I was needing some models and he gladly paused his front yard baseball derby to model for me and his bro and friend followed suit. It;s funny how these little things are really the big things.</center>
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Him and I got home late Friday night. Yosh was out of town and the bog boys wanted to sleep with me. I told Ports I was probably going to wake up and go to the gym in the morning. He was all, "Come on, Mom, don't go to the gym. You need more sleep than that. And we need to cuddle." Make no mistake, he is a cuddle bug. When I let him sleep with me, he wants to sleep right in my armpit with my arm around him...all. night. long. Next level cuddling right there. Kirt and Kady style.</center>
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*B man is a good kid. We just told the kids a couple nights ago that we were going to Hawaii...well, everyone except B. And like the champ he is, he accepted it. Obviously it's with good reason he's not going (he's on the All-Stars team and the tournament starts right when we're leaving) but still... He was the one to tell Porter and the kids the news and it was a cute little night.</center>
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B is such a hard worker. He took note of Porter putting in time on the basketball court (and the accolades that followed...) and he has starting working on hitting on his own more. He's so fun to watch on the ball field with his innate understanding of the game and what to do in fast plays. His hustle and competitiveness comes out on the field overtime. The other day while playing 3rd, he literally dove and tagged someone out heading for home and then still had his head on straight enough to get up and throw it to 2nd for the double play. (Full disclosure: I could be butchering the play, or combing two plays as details aren't my strength, but all these things happened- a diving out and a double play- just maybe not in that order and/or together!)</center>
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The way B plays with Deetz and Kai is so endearing to me. I keep waiting for him to get too old or above being the best biog brother but it's yet to happen. </center>
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*Deeter Bug Hansen. This weekend he was texting with Yosh (while Yosh was out of town) and I literally had to double check to see who was who- he held such a sophisticated conversation. Im glad him and Yosh have each other, they can analyze details and statistics together and never get bored of it. Yosh is right when he calls Deeter an encyclopedia- he's pulling facts and tid bits out that no 7 year old should know. But the Deetz does.</center>
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His summer morning routine includes a solo trip to the Daily's trampoline to get his dunks in and get sweaty enough to warrant a break.</center>
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He loves his big bro's and is thrilled when he is invited in on their shenanigans. B asked him if he wanted to sleep in their room last night after the NBA finals (the boys apparently had a lot of post-game analysis to get through...) and his response, "You bet!"</center>
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*Kaia has been praying in echo mode. This girl. Just no words. Homegirl is still sleeping and I need to rouse her because she has been on the countdown for gymnastics camp for many days and the day is finally here! She does countdowns for a lot of things- Deeter's bday, gymnastics camp, and now Hawaii. I love her.</center>
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Her little feminine-unique details make me love having my little girl. The kids were setting the table for Father's Day dinner last night and she had to go make everyone's name tags for where they were to sit.</center>
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And let's talk about her ritual of laying out clothes. She has had up to TEN-- yes you read that right-- ten outfits laid out at a time. This weekend she upped the ante by also writing a hairstyle label for each day. </center>
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She loves swimming! She kept asking to go swimming in her clothes yesterday (somewhere she heard someone does??) and was thrilled when I told her she could go in just her panties. Dreams coming true.</center>
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And can I make a quick note of how much this little lady chats? Every now and then a break (for me...) is necessary!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-52184500523301307312016-06-13T10:41:00.000-05:002016-06-13T10:41:02.637-05:00One of a million Crossroads <center>
You know those blog posts that start out, "I don't even know if I'll actually push publish on this post buuutttt..."</center>
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I actually find that opening quite annoying. Obviously you're going to post it, you pushed publish and didn't edit out the opening line.</center>
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And yet in this moment I'm tempted to have that same cliche as my start. And truth be told, I more or less did start like that. I just wussed out by quoting the generic instead of claiming the cliche as my own. </center>
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I think what all those writers are really feeling, as am I, is, "This feels like a vulnerable post to me for whatever reason. Therefore, it makes me nervous/scared to push publish yet I have this desire to be honest and share."</center>
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At least that's how I feel.</center>
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I'm in this stage of life where I'm trying to cross thresholds and add different experiences in my daily life to up the quality. For the last 11 years, my time, energy, and desires have been monopolized my mothering, which is just how I wanted it. The last two years have represented a shift in demand and therefore... time, energy, and desire. I've known something new was on the brink (or needed to be is probably better said...) but wasn't jumping.</center>
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And before I get no one too excited, let me add a spoiler alert-- there's no big news, no big opportunity at the end of this story.</center>
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But the last two years have been filled with me wanting something new and different added to my daily. In the more recent months, I've been thinking more in specifics as to what I want to do and have even filled out one application and dreamt out loud about ideal jobs. A month ago I signed up for a photography class as this could be one component in the big picture of some things I'd like to eventually do. I've been so proud of myself for starting a journey. It's been soooooo refreshing to be in an instructional setting and feel like I'm learning and being challenged in a different role again. It's been encouraging to confront one of my innate weaknesses of entering a course of action without <i>really</i> knowing the end result. It's breathed new life into me allowing myself to explore without an expected outcome.</center>
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All that said, I'm at this crossroads however many weeks later. I'm halfway through the photography course and feel pretty discouraged. I don't feel like I'm picking up on the techniques/principles either at all or as quickly as I'd like?? Don't know which one it is and I feel this very real crossroad is begging the question, "So are you going to give up? Because you don't have automatic natural talent? Are you not willing to work hard to become good at something?" Because meshed in that rhetorical character -nagging question is a truth that is not an original thought to me-- everything new has a learning curve. Learning anything new takes a lot of work, a lot of failure, a lot of "this isn't really all that fun" time being invested.</center>
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And apparently-- as previously suspected-- I hate this part of the journey. I think I've encountered this part of a journey many times and have pretty much floundered and said, "Forget it, this isn't for me." Whatever the current "this" may have been.</center>
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So now I'm at the point where I could say that, but the nagging truth is just that-- nagging. Reminding me that I can go ahead and quit but that whatever I determine to put my efforts in, I'm going to face these exact feelings. Time and time again. And the only way I'm going to find success- in anything- is working past this pit in the road, trudging on, and getting through the no fun this sucks part of the journey.</center>
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One of the interesting things about mothering is the natural incentive. I'm sure I've felt this way many times when dealing with different challenges in mothering, but the innate love for my kids and the innate desire to be a full-time mom leaves it such that quitting isn't even a considered option. Like ever.</center>
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So it's a new ball game to choose to enter an arena when the incentives aren't nearly as natural. My incentives are simply that I have a stirring desire to do <i>more</i>, my mind is begging me for more engagement, and I know I can't experience full happiness in my current state of being. But figuring out all the details to satisfy these bullet points are definitely up in the air for debate. </center>
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So there's that. Who knows why it feels vulnerable to me to write this. Maybe because I'm admitting that I'm a quitter and I'm currently trying to quit that habit. Of being a quitter. Imagine the irony.</center>
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And actually, with that, I'm off to practice my photography work. To be a good student, because if there's one thing I've really wanted to do the last few years, it's that-- be a student. So here's to making good on your dreams when they're laid before you.</center>
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(pics from our recent trip to Utah)</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-19157955521406590272016-04-24T15:25:00.000-05:002016-04-28T12:36:14.093-05:00Shifting from Independent to Dependent Children <center>
I know one of my strengths: raising independent children. At probably 9 weeks, I had all of my kids sleeping through the night, because I had followed routines that taught methods of self-soothing. Starting from pretty young, I got the kids in routines that had them getting dressed, making beds, and getting breakfast mainly on their own. (To be fair, I've always cooked my kids breakfast and probably always will for as long as they let me. But they know how to get themselves a bowl of cereal or make toast or whatever.) When I go out of town, they rock their morning routines and can make it out to the bus on their own. They know their night routines of pjs, potties, brush teeth and can easily get themselves and each other to bed. It makes it very nice when we have a babysitter because they're independent.</center>
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The other day I was reading this blog about someone's adoption story. The family has adopted multiple kids. Anyway, the mom was documenting the following weeks after adopting another child. She talked about how important it is at the beginning to establish dependency with the new child. She said kids coming from orphanages know how to do everything for themselves- soothe themselves through discomfort, hunger, pain, know how to put themselves to sleep, etc. The challenge becomes to teach them to let people into their lives and create a dependent relationship.</center>
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It has been so interesting to think about that, especially in my own realm at home. One reason I'm such a hound for raising independent kids is because it makes my life a lot easier. But reading this really stopped me in my tracks and made me think about areas I could improve on to create more of a dependent relationship with my kids. With all the kids being between the ages of 5 and 10, we've entered a different stage where needs have shifted from less physical to more emotional. And emotionally, I want more of a dependent relationship with the kids. I want them to approach Yosh and I when they are having problems with friends or image or decisions or just figuring out life. It's going to be something interesting to think about over the next little bit but it's definitely an area where I want to make strides.</center>
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Anyways, food for thought and I love food of any kind. </center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-31228929727800953542016-04-24T15:06:00.001-05:002016-04-28T12:40:37.478-05:00On Enduring<center>
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When we first moved to Texas, I remember this one specific morning taking off to run a couple laps around my loop. I got to moving and was quickly aware of my sloooow, heavy pace. Not a single step was easy, smooth, or fast. So at the very beginning of my run, I fell into a rhetoric of positive self talk that I was oh-so-familiar with, "It doesn't matter how fast you're moving, what's important is that you're out here and making forward progress. Trajectory. It's all about trajectory, not pace." I've mentioned so many times how running has acted as a conduit for so much learning in my life and in </center>
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the next 30 minutes I came to understand life and God better. I'd always been pretty unclear with the commands in religious contexts (whether in scripture or church meetings) to be perfect, yet with also understanding that the purpose of life was to come here as very imperfect people and get better. I was very confused about the gap between one's knowledge and one's discipline to implement said knowledge, and other things that related to that. Other things also being life and goals, etc. As I was pep-talking myself about things I knew to be true- i.e.: go forward the best you can even if it's slower than it used to be, move forward even if you don't want to, just move forward. I thought as life as a marathon and definitely knew that God could care less if we finish that marathon in 3 hours or 16. He's there waiting at the end, so proud. No prouder of the first finisher than the last finisher. All he cares about is that we don't give up and keep moving. </center>
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That parable, if you will, made a lot of sense to me. There are a lot of things in my life that I need to and want to get better at, whether it be a characteristic trait or other physical habits. Sometimes I am going to make fast and furious progress in an area before it slow's down to snail pace. It's very hard to be satisfied with a snail's pace when I was just sprinting and getting far fast. In fact, it's hard for me to be okay with going at a slow pace. It makes me fall into negative self-talk, how I'm not good enough, not disciplined enough, and too lazy. I'd been failing to remember trajectory. Am I on the right path going in the right direction? That's what really matter. Is it as exhilarating going slowly? No. But it's getting me where I want to be.</center>
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So, that was like part 1. Fast forward to about a year later. It's somewhere around May or June and I'm out running as I had been for many previous months. But all of a sudden I felt like I could barely breathe, after runs I was having major headaches and seeing double vision. Convinced I had a brain tumor or something (not sure I'm exaggerating....) I was googling my symptoms and found an article where the writer was saying many people had been writing in with similar concerns and that there was an answer...heat and humidity! She then showed a humidity chart that illustrated certain paces and then put that same effort level in different humidity percentages and how the same effort translated to much slower paces. And it all made sense! Last year I assumed that I was out of shape (and probably lazy and undisciplined) when really there were these unseen forces (heat and humidity) applying pressure and making forward progress harder and slower. It added an even deeper understanding to the previously learned lesson! There's often reasons why our progress pace is slowed (added obstacles, more responsibilities, less time, etc) and we rarely see the why, we only feel that we're failing. We remember the sprint portion of progress and realllllyyy liked that and feel that we should be able to maintain it. None of us would try to maintain a sprint pace for a long distance race, but it's hard to apply that to real life as well and be okay with it. I struggle big time with this.</center>
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Just a couple weeks ago, it also hit me what all this really was. And when this was the topic in Church today I knew I needed to write it down! All this lesson is enduring. I think I've always had a negative connotation with the word enduring. Like, it was a very tangible, miserable state of being. That's what enduring was. Now I don't see it like that. Enduring is just committing to forward progress even during the un-gratifying (not to be confused with miserable) times. It's learning to be ok when you have to downgrade from running to walking. It's finding the value of not giving up and staying present even when things are unpleasant. It's giving time for processes to take place. Enduring applies to a lot of things.</center>
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Anyway, this insight has been very valuable for me. It's helping me with things as small as getting through 3 hours of church when I don't want to or am super tired and know I won't get as much out of it as potentially available. It's helping me to keep towards goals as simple as cooking dinner at home more, and laying with the boys at night, and I could go on and on. It's helping me not beat myself up when I'm struggling in different areas. Some day we may have the luxury of seeing and understanding why certain periods of our life were slowed down, just like the unknown of the heat and humidity that is now so obvious to me and makes me completely shift my expectations. </center>
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Just got to keep on keeping on aka enduring and the bonus being that it's not all that miserable of a thing to do.</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-12451578681433040982016-04-20T13:42:00.001-05:002016-04-20T13:42:26.956-05:00Rainy Days<center>
If I were being true to myself right now, do you know what I would do?</center>
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Have all my kids at home with me on this rainy day. We'd cuddle and watch TV and play cards. We'd look up show times for The Jungle Book and have our pick of seats at The Alamo Drafthouse to watch it because everyone else would be in school. </center>
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But alas, I only have one kid at home with me due to a tummy ache (sliiiiggghhhtttt) and one still in bed. Which is going to lead to one of two scenarios: 1) I take Deeter to school when I take Kaia or 2) Kaia tells me she's taking the day off because how come sometimes Vance's mom doesn't make him go to school so I'm not going. The argument will be pretty close to verbatim. Deeter being home will only strengthen her argument. At least in her head. My resolve in the exact moment this all plays out will determine the outcome.</center>
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As for the big boys, I don't think I can pull them out. I asked them what they had going on at school today and B reminded me it's day 2 of the puberty talk. The anticipation of this puberty talk has gotten a lot of publicity in our home in the last week. Who knows if nerves, curiosity, or genuine annoyment is the springboard but discussions there have been and I LOVE it! Any opportunity to make those kids squirm just a bit and/or get into their heads and see what they're thinking about is more than welcomed here.</center>
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Yesterday was day 1 where they talked about the boy anatomy and all things boy and puberty. I asked Dallin if he learned anything new and his answer was quite funny. Although probably not blog appropriate. Today's topic is the girls' anatomy and puberty as it applies to us. Not a chance I was letting him miss out on the conversation. So at school he is and will stay! I guess Porter is guilty by association- he'll be forced to stay at school too.</center>
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And that's about where we're at.</center>
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post edit: The sun came out and not a chance anyone was staying home. Mama's got things to do.</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-41254445119093141822016-03-03T14:37:00.000-06:002016-06-13T10:42:38.404-05:00Nostalgic<center>
Dang, I got sucked into the vacuum of reading old blog posts and you want to know what I miss?</center>
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Some funny stories.</center>
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Man, I used to have funny stories coming out the ying yang.</center>
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And now? Like, in this very moment NOW?</center>
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You couldn't pay me a million dollars to write a funny story because I CAN'T THINK OF ONE.</center>
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I'm sure that's a direct result of trying too hard, trying to force creativity, etc. but I'll tell you what, I need to start capturing funny moments again because if there's one thing in life I appreciate, it's humor.</center>
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And do you know who else very obviously appreciates humor in life?</center>
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Porter Pope.</center>
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Last night was Pinewood Derby which means the last week or so has included prepping.</center>
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Porter pretty quickly deemed Hello Kitty the design inspiration for his car.</center>
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My first response?</center>
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Confusion.</center>
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How many questions did I ask?</center>
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Zero.</center>
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Yosh's first response?</center>
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If I were to guess, frustration and being annoyed.</center>
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A couple days later, I asked Porter why (of all of the many things that interest him in life?) he went with Hello Kitty? Which mind you, I've never heard a single mention of Hello, Kitty-anything from Porter.</center>
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What kind of answer did Porter give?</center>
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He thought it was funny. And that coy little smile that I'm oh-so-familiar with (strong DNA y'all) accompanied his reply.</center>
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When I say his response was completely satisfying, I'm not exaggerating even a little bit.</center>
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I get it.</center>
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Like, I GET IT, deep in my bones, in my blood, in my DNA, I get it.</center>
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Can't anybody argue with funny.</center>
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And if it's funny, we want in.</center>
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So that was that.</center>
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Unfortunately I have a total of 0 pics from last night.</center>
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That's what happens when you're in charge of the event. Children suffer, families suffer.</center>
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But suffice it to say, Porter and Dallin were in an 8 way tie for last place in the speed division of the derby.</center>
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Porter's car got awarded "most girlie" and Dallin's "most likely to be Mormon". </center>
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Can you guess Dallin's design?</center>
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BYU.</center>
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His daddy through and through.</center>
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At this time, I have to close this post.</center>
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I'm getting dramatically yelled at by Kaia for being a loud typer and she absolutely cannot hear her movie.</center>
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A loud typer and a loud pee-er.</center>
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I'm winning in all the right departments. #not </center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-41833882465148097392016-03-01T08:07:00.001-06:002016-03-01T17:36:15.493-06:00Deeter Lucas<center><br></center><center>Gosh I feel like my blog posts are pretty one-sided these days but so be it. I'm documenting all of my success stories/learning moments and not the frustrations or hard parts.</center><center><br></center>
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Anyway, I've mentioned before Deeter has not been the easiest person for me to connect with. From 11 months to about 5, he was a pretty demanding sir. And while him and I spent a lot of time and even more energy together, I didn't usually have the big sense of bonding. It was simply necessity and a matter of what it took to get through the day to day routines. After 5, he definitely got easier. Mostly because he started wanting his independence which left little room for me. While I appreciated having more space (read: less tantrums, fewer power struggles, less me doing all his routines with/for him), I noticed I was getting inched out of his world. It's not my favorite place to be- raising a kid but really not feeling like I have a personal relationship with him.</center>
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I had tried a couple different things without results. Like asking him to read together or do some other things, can't remember specifically what-->easy to forget when you never actually get taken up on your offers. I tried to talk to him but usually got shut down, etc etc. ( This is when Yosh let me know that Deeter was exactly like him. Hence the silence when I asked him a question he didn't feel like answering. Imagine that! But I actually hadn't put two and two together how much alike those two were and having that tidbit spelled out for me helped a lot.)</center>
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Now I can't remember the first time this happened and how/why, but I went and met Deeter at school for lunch. Actually I just remembered. I was at the school for a meeting (have I mentioned I'm Deeter's room mom? First for me. But that's a different story for a different day...that I'll never get to but whatever.) and it ended right at the time when Deeter was in lunch so I popped down to say hi. I sat with him while he ate and he chatted me up and was giving out all kinds of love. I definitely noticed the contrast in energy from him that I usually get. So I decided to go back a different day. This time he wanted me to walk to recess with him and when we got to recess, he was all, "Mom, should we sit somewhere and chat?" Oh, the boy who usually tries to not even answer my two questions a day? Yes, I will sit and chat with you, Deeter Lucas.</center><center><br></center>
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Now, the other interesting tid bit to this is Deeter would come home from school and still treat me like crap. Bipolar- love bug at school, completely wound up and bothered at home. Which is why I committed, like FOR REAL committed, to going to lunch with him once a week. Y'all know discipline in a lot of areas is not my strength. For me to consistently do something, I have to believe and feel the necessity and really want the outcome I'm going after. </center><center><br></center>
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Well, I knew I <i>really</i> wanted a better relationship with the Deetz and I knew that this was the only time/place I felt an in. So I began showing up once a week. And I've been consistent. And Deeter has no idea that I've made this commitment so he's never commented on expecting it or anything else, but it's been happening and there hasn't been a single disappointing occasion. And now, here we are however many months later, and guess what has happened? Deeter and I get along at home too. Can you believe it?!! He's finally relaxed and let me into his world! And his world is amazing. He is a unique, creative, pensive person and it's so interesting to have a glimpse in his head. </center><center><br></center><center>These little triumphs make me hungry for more. Motherhood is small, slow progress. It takes a looooong time to see improvement or results if we're lucky enough to get that validation. So when they do come, it's gold. </center><center><br></center><center>In the end, current feels on the subject of Deeter Lucas. </center><center><br></center><center><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ5JoK8Ea4kvQUWaU36h3l1WJRH_wPwvqnLiHX6vWKHakCdXshyxBi-RkQcClwWZZWXcRThnhJurxCziU57Y6gIDVKDTJ0KLDZgyyRrpEa6wr5c7bB4EBPmCcnKTruNbTMMASIkUBMMZrn/s640/blogger-image--1990527225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ5JoK8Ea4kvQUWaU36h3l1WJRH_wPwvqnLiHX6vWKHakCdXshyxBi-RkQcClwWZZWXcRThnhJurxCziU57Y6gIDVKDTJ0KLDZgyyRrpEa6wr5c7bB4EBPmCcnKTruNbTMMASIkUBMMZrn/s640/blogger-image--1990527225.jpg"></a></div><br></center><center><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pgnW4DF_218UJiGH8BYMShIJ_ouj7Tk8tNzHzVpXYIUmhk5XjmfzSzDGLEejzaImLr6shYEanSB6S5w965_63E76gUUhyO-qftO5C4umidNM1sTXDFl7gcMdXCtM01DTHo4p2URdgoqP/s640/blogger-image--1034581057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pgnW4DF_218UJiGH8BYMShIJ_ouj7Tk8tNzHzVpXYIUmhk5XjmfzSzDGLEejzaImLr6shYEanSB6S5w965_63E76gUUhyO-qftO5C4umidNM1sTXDFl7gcMdXCtM01DTHo4p2URdgoqP/s640/blogger-image--1034581057.jpg"></a></div><br></center><center><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixuFiOQw_Lms9PXwTZKHTEtDs8bpFNb30WsSzfuQ73y4jKbPFy2-CMVMxeCm5tpK1VaKXN51O0_m2dLB4k7lnP-usRiYitOY6zNZdKtJxCh7eKSF3-CKY_i7WMQUMqq2fOhOjH39oCOL-m/s640/blogger-image--107485494.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixuFiOQw_Lms9PXwTZKHTEtDs8bpFNb30WsSzfuQ73y4jKbPFy2-CMVMxeCm5tpK1VaKXN51O0_m2dLB4k7lnP-usRiYitOY6zNZdKtJxCh7eKSF3-CKY_i7WMQUMqq2fOhOjH39oCOL-m/s640/blogger-image--107485494.jpg"></a></div><br></center><center><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKPxLeENZggMmHTq96GuU8XCilfxMu5Ec1GP8YVPhDuZHNjt64Ya961vTZux7IWLU2Is6XeY7ZE2wedQClvrSKBqIK2x9dBrZkEIijDxDsNiEiVvj9APE8GByYaAmQJu2gHGnuEtGsOQn/s640/blogger-image-1831294817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKPxLeENZggMmHTq96GuU8XCilfxMu5Ec1GP8YVPhDuZHNjt64Ya961vTZux7IWLU2Is6XeY7ZE2wedQClvrSKBqIK2x9dBrZkEIijDxDsNiEiVvj9APE8GByYaAmQJu2gHGnuEtGsOQn/s640/blogger-image-1831294817.jpg"></a></div><br></center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-62640371827836004312016-02-23T14:24:00.001-06:002016-02-23T14:24:15.174-06:00Thinking about the Kai<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>There's so many things that I want to remember about the day that Kaia was born. I remember Sage calling that morning randomly to ask if she could give Dallin a ride to school. I remember that I had sent my car seat away so that Chelsi could make a cover for it so I had nothing to bring Kaia home in. Christy had to let me borrow hers for the first little bit. I remember driving myself to the hospital because I wasn't sure I was in labor but sure enough Kaia was born four hours later. Apparently I was in labor!<div><br></div><div>We decided a couple weeks ago to have a tea party for Kaia's birthday. Yesterday I was talking to her and I was telling her that I was going to decorate while she was at school today and that she'd come home and be surprised by all the decorations. But she said she really wanted to help me get everything ready. She wanted to help set the table, put up the decorations, and get everything prepared. So that's what we did yesterday. It was another one of those moments where I was in awe at the difference between boys and girls. I love having a little girl! I love that she wants to help me with anything and every thing, that she wants to plan her own party, and prep for her own party. This is the good life!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7h7YJYom9QkC7hqrExgklUZ5gXuY2FnGkIikQ6_Acv2DH_fL43sl9tExbS8NPoO-btdharIP1P52POnH0nk9yVXW5UOCWOJ_Oq_TFZcpNL3oabV4kC_VqIMXV419-M6VF9knrBITzv3Yi/s640/blogger-image--184777925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7h7YJYom9QkC7hqrExgklUZ5gXuY2FnGkIikQ6_Acv2DH_fL43sl9tExbS8NPoO-btdharIP1P52POnH0nk9yVXW5UOCWOJ_Oq_TFZcpNL3oabV4kC_VqIMXV419-M6VF9knrBITzv3Yi/s640/blogger-image--184777925.jpg"></a></div> Yoshi with his 5 year old!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw8jkGOSvJ_M9skczcKz9fzGeNdeBYv8Hm0yy7EDS80HV5Kfyl42yPOaGQyu0TIq3h8IinFCBYGiFF0eNupF_KUacVAUN1IZ1KFxUmFAhCBatp5T_pZPANdDjYEqTPXCFv7C8L5O49cqh8/s640/blogger-image-858475091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw8jkGOSvJ_M9skczcKz9fzGeNdeBYv8Hm0yy7EDS80HV5Kfyl42yPOaGQyu0TIq3h8IinFCBYGiFF0eNupF_KUacVAUN1IZ1KFxUmFAhCBatp5T_pZPANdDjYEqTPXCFv7C8L5O49cqh8/s640/blogger-image-858475091.jpg"></a></div><br><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Ay2IdH0xK3Q1eONXCknYirZzTOVtEvrcTzR5T3PCYrA9iN_RRmWwE8R862jPl5XSEXI7ozVVOL02-dTwrEemY41sBR2hJr4Ch-owQM11JP4r0ALcQ96kB_8Gyb3N_E46BRV8Xqggec6z/s640/blogger-image--2032962449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><font color="#000000"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Ay2IdH0xK3Q1eONXCknYirZzTOVtEvrcTzR5T3PCYrA9iN_RRmWwE8R862jPl5XSEXI7ozVVOL02-dTwrEemY41sBR2hJr4Ch-owQM11JP4r0ALcQ96kB_8Gyb3N_E46BRV8Xqggec6z/s640/blogger-image--2032962449.jpg"></font></a></div></div><div>Kaia LOVES her cake which obviously makes me feel like a million bucks. She wanted a number 5 cake and then was thrilled with the colors and the gold accents. Bless her because truth be told- it's a roulette roll with her. But this time around I was getting a lot of I love yous and you're the best mom. </div></div>agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-50403020164308205822016-02-23T13:00:00.001-06:002016-02-24T09:35:58.385-06:00A little Porter follow upY'all this is amazing. I'm sitting at lunch, listening to an audio book (The Kitchen Help) and blogging all at the same time. Constanza would be proud.<br />
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So I wanted to follow up about the Porter. When he got home from school the other day I casually asked him how things had gone in the classroom that day, only a slight variation from my normal "how was school?" Porter's face changed and he kind of raised his eye brows worriedly. Porter easily admitted there had been a small incident- he had drawn a poop emoji during math. Apparently that caused a lot of attention and distracted a lot of other students. Is now a good time to interject the factoid that Porter got a poop emoji pillow for Valentine's Day? What can we say, he's a poop emoji fan. </div>
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We talked about it a little more and he said it made him feel embarrassed getting called out, and that he's not used to being in trouble. It was obvious through both his facials and articulation that he didn't like the way he felt when this was all going down. We talked about what those feelings are probably telling him and how to let those feelings guide him to choices that get his desired outcome. All in all it was a good convo and I just left it at that. </div>
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Today I went in and talked with him and his teacher at her request. Let me preface by saying I absolutely love his teacher. She has definite boundaries but is one that teaches with love and is very encouraging of students to be their self and use their innate personalities. She is not a strict disciplinarian in the conventional sense. She uses arbitrary ways to bring out the best in the individual. I really look up to her and have tried to employ both her patience and tactics when dealings with my kids. </div>
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I just wanted to highlight some of the things she told me and/or Porter so that I can remember for future reference.</div>
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1) she emphasized his role as a leader and the necessity to use that power wisely and for the good. </div>
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2) she had heard him refer to himself as the class clown and that concerned her and she really felt the need to intercede and help him change his mentality. She said when kids choose an identity for themselves they put a lot of pressure on themselves to fulfill that identity. She wanted to squash that idea of a class clown while in its infancy. </div>
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3) she helped him to see how his decisions/actions made others feel (annoyed, frustrated, sad, angry). She pointed out that often times the kids they other students feel entertained or think it's funny when in reality their feelings are opposite. </div>
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4) she's helping him come up with a plan to fight those impulsive actions. </div>
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I appreciated so many of these things she shared. I most appreciated that she was choosing to deal with this before it had turned into something bigger. She simply saw the path he was getting on and foresaw the trajectory and knew he was better than where he was going. It was yet another reminder of the important stage of development the kids are in. These later elementary years are so formative and important because we actually can still influence the kids! It was an encouraging reminder to me to identify small problems and take the incentive to help redirect the kids to a better path before the problem takes deep root. </div>
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Another point I really focused on this incident was separating Porter as a person from his actions, teaching and reminding him that his mistakes don't define him and although he made a misstep that in no way devalues him as a person. (Shame vs guilt). </div>
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Anyway Porter is an awesome kid and so glad he has a patient teacher who gifts him the luxury of being himself and encouraging that personal growth.<br />
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-41695930927416662912016-02-18T14:48:00.000-06:002016-02-18T14:48:19.951-06:00<center>
Ahhhh shoot, time out to give myself a therapy session.</center>
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It's kind of funny, sitting down to write the problem that seems so huge in my head translates to a simple, small problem in words: Porter's teacher emailed and wants to have a meeting about Porter's behavior.</center>
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Wow, maybe things aren't as bad as I let them be in my head. Jello-y space is a dangerous place to be. You know-- thoughts, projections, scenarios left to wander in my head with no boundaries. </center>
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But still, I'm going to try to articulate and walk myself through what felt so huge just an hour ago. I got this email from Porter's teacher and instantly- like literally instantly before I even opened it up- my heart is beating a million times faster, and on top of that, it's beating from the pit of my stomach. I basically know what the email's going to say even though I take the brave moment to tell myself, "Well, maybe not?" But I know. And not because we've had past incidents with Porter, because actually we haven't which is a good reminder to self, but because teacher's email individually when there's a problem. I already know it's a behavioral problem and I already know that I have no idea what to do about it. But what I most intimately feel is a reflection of my own childhood. Of scenario after scenario of me talking too much and too loud and basically never modeling anything close to the perfect student. And while I was always smart, my behavior was always sub par. This single email from Porter's teacher instantly assures me (falsely so) that he's on the exact same path of me and that there's years of frustration ahead for the both of us. </center>
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While taking a few deep breaths, a little bit of time, and deliberate introspection, I always have to remind myself of something that feels far from an innate insurance...Porter turning out like me isn't the worst case scenario. Like, it's actually ok if Porter turns out like me. I'm an okay human being with enough to offer the world. Someday I hope to feel that way without deliberately reminding myself. </center>
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But besides that, I need to grant Porter the right to his own journey without projecting mine on him. I need to watch in real time and be intrigued as it unfolds instead of assuming/expecting the worse and being nothing other than validated when small, scenarios play out as such.</center>
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Anyways, this was a healthy exercise. Now I've freed up a little bit of space where hopefully I can figure out a healthy, effective way to help plant self-motivation in the Pistol pants. All this arbitrary teaching and planting can be a bit exhausting. I wish the straight-forward-get-your-crap-together approach would just work. But let's be honest, that never worked for me:))</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-4990650056614416402016-01-06T21:46:00.001-06:002016-01-06T21:46:44.516-06:00<center>
Shoot I don't think I have it in me to write a grateful post. Not because I have nothing to be grateful, not because i don't want happiness in my life, but because I'm tired. I'm not a night person. I don't actually even like being productive at night. Probably because I'm not, more likely my work is counter-productive.</center>
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But here's the thing. I know I never regret anything I write. No matter the poor quality I bring, it's always going to be better than nothing. </center>
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So I think we'll bullet point this one out.</center>
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*Kaia started her 5 day regimen this week. She's happy as a peach. (I feel like I got that saying wrong...)</center>
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*The kids are loving hover boards. All 4 of them, although the boys are on them more, probably because it's something all the friends do together.</center>
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*Porter helped me make cookies today. Solid QT.</center>
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*Kaia still insists on wearing shorts and a t-shirt to school. 42 degrees. Whatever.</center>
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*I cut B's hair the other night and him and Porter are looking more alike than ever...whoops!</center>
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*B and his buddy, Landon, are working on a science fair project. I sure hope they make progress solo because those things intimidate me.</center>
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*Speking of things intimidating me, I could make a laundry list you wouldn't want to touch with a 10 foot pole.</center>
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K, gonna watch my murder show. Dateline for the win. Shocking.</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-26566259860187135002016-01-02T20:34:00.001-06:002016-01-04T16:03:13.981-06:0010/21 the happiness projectAqui estamos. In the land of Gilbert, AZ where the sun is out, Polar Pops are a dime a dozen, and daily park outings are a must. <div><br></div><div>3 new things I'm grateful for:</div><div><br></div><div>1) good food. I love to go out to eat. I do like good food but possibly even surpassing that love, is the love of getting at. The free energy in restaurants. Being on the move. But I usually just say I love food. Now my big secret is out. </div><div><br></div><div>So anyway, while here, we've had some great food experiences. Joyride Tacos- the chips and salsa were seriously TDF. loved the size of the tacos, that I could try an enjoy three different kind without being too full. Joe's Market Grill- some solid fresh burgers and salads and sweet potato fries. You can eat outside, making it a very kid-friendly place. Joe's BBQ- located in downtown Gilbert which is such a quaint little area. If I were a resident here, I would appreciate every opportunity that took me to the hard streetz of downtown Gilbert. </div><div><br></div><div>2) lets be honest, this is a whole different day than when #1 was written. Apparently I'm not a quitter though! I'm thankful for my Chels. She's been a steady and stable in my life for many years now. Like 12.5. I love her and hanging out with her. I'm a lucky girl. </div><div><br></div><div>3) dreaming. Day dreaming that is. I love how dreams keep my mind alive and desiring more and pushing forward. Yosh and I wrote down a couple 2016 bucket list items on the flight home yesterday. And it was fun. I know something about me- I don't care as much if that list gets checked off completely or not. I just like making it. And thinking of the possibilities. Dreaming is good. </div><div><br></div><div>One positive experience:</div><div><br></div><div>Chels, Andrew, Yosh and I wanted to go out for chips and salsa late Saturday night. It had the possibility of being an awkward situation because we didn't want food. We arrived to Joyride Tacos at like 11:02 where the host informed us apologetically that the kitchen was closed, that chips and salsa was all they could offer us🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼. We were saved. Positive experience it was. </div>agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-65494136938508106932015-12-24T13:56:00.002-06:002015-12-24T13:56:40.360-06:008/21 Happiness Project <center>
K I'm tempted to not do this due to time, I'm doing this one quick.</center>
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3 new things I'm grateful for:</center>
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1) playing volleyball. I play pick up ball once a week on Tuesday nights which has been so much fun. The downer is that it starts at 9 pm and we usually go till 11:30ish and then I can't go to sleep till 1ish. The school morning comes real quick but a while ago I decided I needed to up my quality of life by doing more things I truly enjoy. So staying up super late, therefore not getting a lot of sleep, is part of the sacrifice. Quality of life > sleep.</center>
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2) that I got to sleep in on Wednesday after volleyball. My body is for sure in vacation mode...I couldn't even get up to my 8:00 alarm. Eye lids got their first peek at 9:24 am. Hallelujah hands all the way around.</center>
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3) that my parents came in town for Christmas. It's fun getting to share life with them!</center>
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One positive experience:</center>
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I took the kids shopping so they could buy their sibling exchange gifts. It was super sweet watching them all thoughtfully and deliberately pick out something they thought their person would like. We exchange those gifts on Christmas Eve and it's my absolute favorite. It's the one gift- on the giving and receiving end- that they're emotionally invest4d in. They thought about it, picked it out, and paid for it with their own money. Obvious reasons why they are giddy doing the giving.</center>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-24363250208122166402015-12-22T08:56:00.001-06:002015-12-24T13:56:50.972-06:007/21 happiness projectY'all, I'm blogging and biking at the same time. How sweet is this set up. Maybe Gold's Gym is my new office. I love traveling west to east. We're home and kids are still on west coast/party mode time zone which means they're tucked in bed asleep while I'm up and at em for a couple hours. Fave.<br />
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3 new things I'm grateful for:</div>
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1) My kids travel so well. They pull their weight, they're helpful, they're independent enough, and don't ask too many questions! I admit, they're a total crutch for me to pull off shenanigans. I don't want to travel/do things alone so having them along for the ride kills so many birds with one stone. I was just telling Yosh this trip that I don't know what I'll do without them when that time comes where they ditch me and start a life of their own. </div>
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I was reminding myself of how grateful I am for their behavior last night as Deeter was literally crying himself to sleep. It was a rough night. A great day, a rough night. His heart was broken about something (losing electronics for a day) and nothing was going to console him. Well, technically I bet earning electronics back but that wasn't happening. Anyway, in the moment I was thinking and praying and hoping for some idea to help my poor boy out and nothing was working. You know one of the hardest answers/solutions with kids? Time. Sometimes time is the only remedy for things returning to normal. It's painful to sit still, do nothing, and wait. Often that's what's needed though. As much as it hurts now to wait out a petty electronic disappointment, I don't even want to think about the things I'll be waiting out during the teenage years and how I'm sure I'll be waiting much longer than a couple hours or one night's sleep…</div>
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2) Our tradition of stopping by Rudy's on the way home from the airport. Whether we're picking someone up or its us returning home, if Rudys is open were usually stopping in for a meal. </div>
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3) Nice people who compliment young families. It's easy to feel like a burden or a circus show walking around as a mom with four youngish kids. But so many people are complimentary and encouraging and it's refreshing to feel that posit icing and support, even if only from strangers. </div>
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One positive experience:</div>
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Yosh has been so cute about BYU picking a new head coach. He was telling me about the press conference where Kalani (can't remember last name) took press for first time. I asked him for a date that night, to watch it together. He lit right up and held me to my word after the kids were in bed. It was so fun watching Yosh get excited at sharing that with me and then watching his reaction everytime the new coach talked. It was a sweet 20 minute and a good reminder for me to connect more with Yosh on his level. He's a good man!</div>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-56221955835673003182015-12-21T13:44:00.001-06:002015-12-24T13:57:01.912-06:006/21I'm loving these quiet mornings. Dang if this could ever become a habit…<br />
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3 new things I'm grateful for:</div>
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1) Yosh. Our anniversary was on Saturday and we had a good, quick reflective chat. To sum it up, he's a good one. He's steady, stable and a lot of other things that I'm not. He also just loves me a whole lot and while I may never understand why, I sure appreciate it. He is my goal of how to love. </div>
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2) that we're safe. Literally right across the street from the hotel we're staying at, some lady drove her car on the sidewalk last night killing one and injuring 37. Thinking how many times we've walked that same stretch since we've been here in Vegas is sobering. We were relaxing in our room watching Alice in Wonderland at the time it<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> happened. Thank goodness. I've been thinking offal the families not as lucky as us…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">3) that I don't live in Vegas!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">One positive experience:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Yesterday Yosh and insole up, threw on some clothes, and set out to walk to breakfast (after going to McDonalds and loading up on food for the kids as promised!). This is one of my favorite things to do. I love walking to a meal! We ended up at The Lynx at Hash House a Go Go. We had tried going there last time we were in Vegas but the wait squeezed us out. (To a different and amazing breakfast cafe I must add). We had better luck this time. We sat down to a spectacular menu before ordering a gluttonous breakfast. Chicken fried eggs Benedict, biscuits and gravy, and a banana brown sugar something or the other pancake. Pancake was amazing x100. Everything else was real good but kind of too big and too much if that makes sense. By the time we walked away from the meal, it looked as if we had barely touched it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Over the top insane portions. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">We then walked home and that little outing was a super positive experience in my book!</span></div>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-81396906333238031442015-12-20T17:27:00.001-06:002015-12-20T17:27:31.894-06:005/21 Project Happiness<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>So first off, I'm sitting here right now, first thing in the morning, happy as a mother... We'll stop at mother. Because I am one. But honestly my current feels are happiness and gratitude and I'm thinking…are those two interchangeable? Or are they domino affect? Or is it coincidence they're my two sensations?! Anyway, it's a great way to wake up and it feels so serene and solidifying to take a minute and soak it up and write before rushing into the day. <div><br></div><div>Unfortunately when it comes to my happiness project, despite all my lalala feelings, I'm still in the same predicament of my memory suffering from a night's sleep, the time in which it ships a high percentage of thoughts/feels/happenings to the Bermuda Triangle. Ain't nothing coming back from there. </div><div><br></div><div>But even that can't get me down. I'm still fishing out three gratefuls. </div><div><br></div><div>3 new things I'm grateful for:</div><div><br></div><div>1) Good game day weather. We're here in Vegas and went to the BYU/Utah game and it was money weather for the 12:30 game. Jeans, sweatshirt and jacket were necessary but that kept us warm and the sun was shining and the sky was clear and it just felt right being at a ball game. As a self-indicting reminder, I'm a fair weather fan. Of anything. But in the truest and most literal sense. I don't want to do/watch/be/live anything in nasty weather. So praise hands all the way around for yesterday. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8K2lvGw1ABbpSQ_4x-TG6v2klX1A-vLcT8NDt6yBEb9V_kzMXvEXtlh-FVEneQW1vqxg1SLFUsg8A6C41C7QcXD1DOshSnB6J3lB7ZKdB8OZbdwx72v-22MqovqYojxUKT1ENbQv6kDfK/s640/blogger-image--1147466639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8K2lvGw1ABbpSQ_4x-TG6v2klX1A-vLcT8NDt6yBEb9V_kzMXvEXtlh-FVEneQW1vqxg1SLFUsg8A6C41C7QcXD1DOshSnB6J3lB7ZKdB8OZbdwx72v-22MqovqYojxUKT1ENbQv6kDfK/s640/blogger-image--1147466639.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq10PxT0yS-_wgprcrBV0PiGSviiaI1a8uCFWE3AHs5K2AVo11qSFwDZAM49l1Mmv91AIISRbHLJSZYReZZXtTG41VShyhzMsKGTZ1ZiqtiyM8VHaG96Dvtdi8Cf14gQusRU5zgldAVXQP/s640/blogger-image--293905135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq10PxT0yS-_wgprcrBV0PiGSviiaI1a8uCFWE3AHs5K2AVo11qSFwDZAM49l1Mmv91AIISRbHLJSZYReZZXtTG41VShyhzMsKGTZ1ZiqtiyM8VHaG96Dvtdi8Cf14gQusRU5zgldAVXQP/s640/blogger-image--293905135.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2) sharing experiences with others. (I'm being real careful on how I word things since the project is 3 <b>new</b> things a day!)</div>Cali and her family have been here since we arrived, the Baker's came Friday night, and the Hansen's Saturday morning. Experiences are richer because we're together. Mine and Cali's crew walked around town Friday and everyone had fun just being together. Coke world (we did the tastes of Coke around the world sampling), M&M world (you don't want to know how much money I've spent on M&Ms since I've been here. But for real, personalizing the M&Ms with sayings??? Sucker. All day everyday.), Hershey's world (where the kids were literally shocked that we wouldn't buy them each a 2 lb Hershey kiss), and then Cali took Chance, Chloe, and Porter on the roller coaster at New York New York (Porter said scariest thing he's ever done but totally worth it.) I love having good people in my life that elevate the quality. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDOmijNUSVzoFNVaZuX78zt-r09CIUw1fUOLltA6dvr5Lyxv6tBKTefm20oJkf1QFckYO8eiI_47vJ3LA7wNVDXjNZN3kuPB5ztZnUwQ_Q9NMISnuBZh_sgAmJRwg0dXi3190n1Hjhy2VU/s640/blogger-image-544651805.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDOmijNUSVzoFNVaZuX78zt-r09CIUw1fUOLltA6dvr5Lyxv6tBKTefm20oJkf1QFckYO8eiI_47vJ3LA7wNVDXjNZN3kuPB5ztZnUwQ_Q9NMISnuBZh_sgAmJRwg0dXi3190n1Hjhy2VU/s640/blogger-image-544651805.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eJOMU6Sf6sOAKKy2zQkCYjC5PzElZeFMRF3YxaJX3s79kUuIUNBS7FRAMI6s0vHha95HWSxQrYD1ING8rEt3zg8Jzugp9pOdGuurZbS29Lj6aSbswmmZUKXzxCg_tNlTkvVilAO4zGz1/s640/blogger-image--1921761044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7eJOMU6Sf6sOAKKy2zQkCYjC5PzElZeFMRF3YxaJX3s79kUuIUNBS7FRAMI6s0vHha95HWSxQrYD1ING8rEt3zg8Jzugp9pOdGuurZbS29Lj6aSbswmmZUKXzxCg_tNlTkvVilAO4zGz1/s640/blogger-image--1921761044.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSpFOW5LSw6RTHd0HbwmTDfJfPoHoA69IVfosX85PTMoSp-K2VxbdmoPOUGaydSTHotTLMyiUmQkeZ1gD09mm7DPA8E-UcTCr3GVohMd5eauvlYvyXwQHgZpa8qsbas8XFFEYMlgzJenK8/s640/blogger-image--1948799750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSpFOW5LSw6RTHd0HbwmTDfJfPoHoA69IVfosX85PTMoSp-K2VxbdmoPOUGaydSTHotTLMyiUmQkeZ1gD09mm7DPA8E-UcTCr3GVohMd5eauvlYvyXwQHgZpa8qsbas8XFFEYMlgzJenK8/s640/blogger-image--1948799750.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbWCrWzeagpczp8yaAd0X6FfondDOY5cUWp4CRoqTv2sed1BQG4jUQM0jV1ryKWScYffbkKf1d2XfiB1sc8Rnt3KctGE1Er9X3gxHlcCDmA3DEBNB-s1wABtg8iv-zMbMNlR5fEWGvJuT/s640/blogger-image--843761062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsbWCrWzeagpczp8yaAd0X6FfondDOY5cUWp4CRoqTv2sed1BQG4jUQM0jV1ryKWScYffbkKf1d2XfiB1sc8Rnt3KctGE1Er9X3gxHlcCDmA3DEBNB-s1wABtg8iv-zMbMNlR5fEWGvJuT/s640/blogger-image--843761062.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>3) That I got to go to Colin's basketball game. Honestly, it's real hard for me not living by family. I always grew up thinking I'd get to share raising kids and daily life etc with family but that isn't the case. While life is still fine and I've found a way to pick up the pieces and move on (please note sarcasm in that exaggerated statement), there's little things that are still hard to accept. One of those (probably the biggest one) is not knowing my nieces and nephews to a satisfactory level and not getting to watch them do their thing. That made it a very rich experience to go to Colin's game. Even though he didn't play, I loved being able to support him and see a glimpse into his life. </div><div><br></div><div>One positive experience:</div><div><br></div><div>To go the game yesterday, Yosh booked a limo to take us to the game. Game day excitement was already running high and the limo pulling up was icing on the cake. We all got to ride together (Yosh and I, Dalkin, Porter, Deeter, Chelsi and Derek, Krewz, Chelsi and Andrew, and Harper) and DJ Jazzy D kept the jams coming, the kids kept the singing loud and entertaining, and it was good times. As expected we had a couple of hanging out of the window episodes (D and Andrew) and that is how you keep life light and fun. It made the 12 mile, one hour ride much more than just bearable. </div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPH2R9tdwh8NCs_lJgXa6jRa0cmMf3CENeRK96C-oPq_PT6lhD-hmwHHjebK-8UFPolfKMXZ6hr5r5-mLuApld8a_C6mbzBVDDXD2qbs2nJhrJSF96M63sC27Kr9CAKDoxDD7oKtiARTs9/s640/blogger-image--1106652525.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPH2R9tdwh8NCs_lJgXa6jRa0cmMf3CENeRK96C-oPq_PT6lhD-hmwHHjebK-8UFPolfKMXZ6hr5r5-mLuApld8a_C6mbzBVDDXD2qbs2nJhrJSF96M63sC27Kr9CAKDoxDD7oKtiARTs9/s640/blogger-image--1106652525.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>Ok because I missed a day and am not going to do a whole other post, I have to write down a couple more "gratefuls" so that these gems don't drift to The Triangle too. </div><div>*that I finally got to meet niecey Harper. Shoot, we didn't take a pic together…</div><div>*for The Wicked Spoon. For breakfast and dinner. But mainly for breakfast bc that's where it's at. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Ok see ya, bye. I think I'm going to run to McDonalds and bring home stacks of pancakes and McGriddles for the crew🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼. </div><div><br></div>agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-19777674203676128192015-12-19T19:45:00.001-06:002015-12-24T14:10:39.975-06:00The Las Veges bowl<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
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We went to the Las Vegas bowl.<br />
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Utah had 3 interceptions for 6</div>
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AlI in the 1st Quarter</div>
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They were Winning 35-0</div>
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Utah Downed there punts</div>
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At the 1 yard line. Byu for</div>
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There 1st TD they</div>
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Passed it R.Peck. On there</div>
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2ND TD F.Bernard rushed for aTD.</div>
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On there 3rd TD T.Mangum</div>
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dived for a TD.</div>
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They came back 28-35.<br />
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By: Deeter</div>
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agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7910540194201355195.post-18473936594755247672015-12-18T09:10:00.001-06:002015-12-18T09:10:08.377-06:004/21I'm doing this a day late but let's not forget to remember the most important part- it's getting done!<div><br></div><div>3 things I'm grateful for:</div><div>1) traveling with my kids. I love the excitement in the air upon arriving somewhere away from home and watching/listening to all the details the kids point out. Granted, we're in Vegas, and some of those details I wish they'd miss…</div><div><br></div><div>2) growing kids. We're in a stage where we can walk around as a family and do things that we couldn't do even 2 years ago. I appreciate the changing stages and I like where we're currently at. </div><div><br></div><div>3) paper and markers. These kids have been getting back to the basics and doing lots of coloring. The boys (Deeter and Porter) are into making and coloring football fields. I love seeing their creativity and that it's something the two of them can bond over and, most importantly, that they're very entertained and engaged without a screen in front of them. </div><div><br></div><div>A positive experience:</div><div><br></div><div>Dang here I go struggling again. Maybe because it's the next morning and I'm erroneously feeling like the real objective of this exercise is simply to remember. Like anything. My memory is failing me young y'all!</div><div><br></div><div>But I got one. And I know it's one because right when I remembered it a smile automatically came to my face. We took a cab to the airport in Austin and our cab driver was just happy and pleasant! He was this guy originally from St Thomas in the US Virgin Islands. Naturally he talked with a cool accent which made any and everything he said a million times cooler. More than anything, he was interested in what we had going on, made us all feel important, and set our trip off to a very good start.</div><div><br></div><div>There you go! </div>agirlnamedgayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05026645797871962811noreply@blogger.com0