Update on the Cooks!

Hello friends and family!

Here is a brief update on some recent changes:

Brian got a job at Klein Collins High School and is enjoying the change from middle school to high school. Also exciting for him (he has been to modest to share this with most people) is that his arrangement of Sing We Now of Christmas is being published by Alliance Music! He has a SSAA and a TTBB arrangement and both are being published. You can hear the song on YouTube here.

We moved in to Brian's parents house again because they are leaving for Berlin, Germany on a 2 year mission. The high school Brian works at is just across the street. Couldn't have worked out better and it will be nice to save the money living here on future endeavors such as doctorate degree or our first house! (Or maybe a masters degree for Kayla).

We are expecting baby #3, a BOY in March. We are thrilled! Names up for the running are Elijah and Jonah. They are both very biblical--it wasn't planned that way. I don't know any Jonahs personally so I'm trying to get a feel for the name and how it is received. When I ask people between the two they always go for Elijah so...? Elijah would be shortened to Eli probably. I guess one will stick sooner or later! Nathan was almost Benjamin and I still like that name too.

I'm still teaching piano. David started preschool which has been awesome for him (and me!). Nathan is an early talker and is so fun-loving and carefree. He has been such a great addition to our family.

And of course I can't post without some kind of picture so here is a cute one:

The Parable of Peanut the Pitbull

 

About a week ago we noticed a stray dog hanging around our yard. The first time I got a good look at him I felt a knot in my stomach. I was pretty sure it was an aggressive breed of some kind. My husband and I don't have a dog and don't know a lot about dogs in general so I got online to look at pictures of the breed and confirmed that our stray was a pit bull.

Woah. A pit bull? Even though I didn't have personal experience with this breed, I knew enough to have the following thoughts: This dog is going to kill my children. This dog could attack us unprovoked. This dog's bite can kill. This dog is evil. This dog is vicious.

With these thoughts in mind my husband and I decided that our kids couldn't play near the dog or even go outside to be in the general area of the dog. Animal control could come pick him up if he was contained so my husband and I set out to contain him. This was a challenge because we live on about 10 acres of land. I knew he must be hungry so I approached him with some slices of ham hoping I could trap him. When I got too close however, he barked at me and my husband. One time my husband got so close he gave him a low growl. This only confirmed our fears of the stray. Animal control came and tried to capture him but no amount of whistling or smooth talking would get him to come to us. He was smart. He could see the catch-pole the dog catcher held and knew what would happen if he got too close. So he disappeared for a little while. Animal control made plans to set a dog trap in the yard the following week if he was still around. The dog catcher left telling us that we did have the right to shoot the dog if it attacked or seemed vicious. The dog catcher wasn't the only one giving this advice. Everyone said we needed to scare it away...use a bb gun, bang pots and pans, use an air horn, target practice...I wasn't shocked at this advice at all. This dog could harm us and we needed to protect ourselves even if it meant killing the dog (I'm not quite sure how we would have done that, seeing as how we don't own a gun). I asked the dog catcher what would happen to him once he was captured. The reply was that the dog was unsafe to adopt out and if nobody claimed him within three days he would be put down. This made me sad because there was a possibility that this dog was loved by someone very much.

Animal control wouldn't be able to come around again for a few days so we were on the defensive. We watched the dog from inside the safety of our home and hoped he would disappear on his own. Instead he marched around marking his territory around the yard. He lay down under the shade of the trampoline or porch for hours at a time. It appeared to us that this dog was going nowhere so we resolved to bide our time with him around until animal control could trap him. Each time we had to go outside we tread our path carefully not wanting to provoke the dog in case he was dangerous. The dog became more suspicious of us and continued to bark at us when we came outside. It seemed he was just as uncomfortable with us as we were with him.

It was on our way home from running errands that we noticed a missing dog sign on a light post near our home. Sure enough it showed a picture of our stray pit. I immediately called the number and was greeted with much relief and appreciation from the dog's owner. They said they were going to come right over. I told them the dog wasn't around at the moment but maybe they could come call for him and he would show up. When they came we formally introduced ourselves. "What's the dog's name?" my husband asked. "Peanut" they said. "Peanut!? Peanut!? Not Killer? Not Spike or Brutus or Buster?" were my thoughts. They continued, "He's a great dog. He's great with kids and won't harm a fly. He loves to eat. Please, please let us know when he comes around again."

An entire day went by without a sign of Peanut. Now that we were assured of Peanut's harmlessness we whistled and called for him. Knowing how much Peanut's owners loved him and cared for him I was so hoping he would come back. I was worried that he had been killed somehow. I said a few silent prayers that he would show up. We checked before we went to bed one final time. I updated the owners that there was no sign of him. I was beginning to fear the worst. The next day when my husband and I woke up we searched the perimeter of our yard for him. No Peanut. At this point our 2 and 3-year old boys caught on. They would yell Peanut's name outside and my oldest asked if Peanut died. We were in our van and on our way to church when we saw a very ragged and hungry Peanut laying in his usual spot on the porch. He must have gotten there between the time we checked the yard that morning and the time we left for church.

I couldn't contain my excitement. "Get some ham!" I yelled to my husband. He came back with the ham and my camera. I called the owners and they were so joyful. While I waited for Peanut's "mommy" to come get him I noticed that he was dirty. He had an eye infection and his ribs were showing. Suddenly the ferocious dog I saw from my window was just a poor, vulnerable, sweet creature that needed some love and attention. I wished in that moment that I could have known that about him all along. How much better we would have got along!

 

When the owner showed up I was glad I had my camera. Even at the sight of their car coming down the drive, Peanut perked right up. When the owner stepped out of the car, he bounded toward her and immediately gave her a hug. I have never seen a dog look so much like a human before. He was so happy and for a moment I shared in the bliss of the owner and the dog. So much of the dog's suffering could have been eliminated if I could have seen past my fears and loved instead.

Of course I'm not saying we should trust stray dogs. Fear serves a purpose and I know my husband and I were just trying to protect our family. But I couldn't help but learn an important lesson through this experience. Sometimes our fears of the unknown eliminate the possibility for love. How many problems could be solved if instead of seeing each other through the windows of our homes, our jobs, or even our computers we could see each other face to face? If we could see people as they truly are we would probably see vulnerability and suffering. People need love. All people need love. It doesn't matter who you are or what you believe. In all the debate, the bullying, and the pride we stop seeing each other as people and start seeing each other as vicious pit bulls out to destroy what we are trying so hard to protect. We are all fighting for protection. Protection of our families, protection of our rights, protection of love itself. Is there a greater definition of turmoil than this--that what one person fights to protect is the very thing another is fighting for? There is no perfect outcome for this dilemma. Such things require great pain and suffering for both parties at one point or another. The only solution I can think of is to love more and love more easily.

Well, well, well

We just got back from another great Utah trip! Highlights included hiking the waterfall trail 3 times, fireworks, Hogle Zoo, baseball games, baseball games, and more baseball games, movie nights, homemade ice cream and popcorn and Chinese food, basketball in the driveway, car detailing, and swimming! It is always a little hard coming back to Texas because of course I can't help but think about how nice it would be to live near my family, but I also see how many blessings we have here in the Lonestar state. What started as Brian getting a masters degree at the University of Houston has turned in to quite an adventure. I never imaged the first 5 years of my marriage would turn out the way it has, but we truly have had some great experiences living here. Growing up in a close knit family with all of my married siblings living in Utah I just never experienced life outside of my comfort zone. Not only did we never move growing up, but I never really experienced visiting relatives outside of Utah/Idaho. After the masters degree I was more than eager to move back to Utah, but the job opportunity was here. Now Brian has just finished two years at Arnold Middle School and just accepted a job as a High School choir assistant in Spring, TX just a few miles down the road. Brian's parents are planning on serving a mission so we will be staying in their home for 2 years. Six years in Texas at that point! I just can't believe it!

I have definitely felt lonely and discouraged at times in the last 4 years but there has also been some great benefits to living here--I even made a little list of the awesome things:

-Members of the church here are really close to each other. There is a strong sense of ward family and most people truly depend on each other as you would family members. Not living near family has helped me reach out to others and make friends I probably wouldn't have made living somewhere surrounded by family.
-It is awesome talking to people about the gospel here. There are a lot of good Christian families in Texas and most people have a pretty good idea of Mormonism. Brian and I have both had some really awesome missionary experiences.
-Spanish! We use our language skills constantly here.
-The months Jan-April are just beautiful! So sunny and nice.
-Fine Arts. Brian and I have been to some amazing operas, concerts, plays. The culture in Houston is one that values the Fine Arts very highly. Next on my list is the Houston Ballet! Brian and I were able to sing in a choir called the Houston Camerata. It was such a fun experience for both of us.
-Brian's salary as a teacher here in Texas is one that provides us with a  comfortable standard of living. Teachers aren't paid enough in general, but Texas is one of the best states for teacher-pay in America.
-We've created strong friendships with people from totally different cultures and backgrounds. Some of our closest friends here are from Korea, India, and Brazil. We've had some really amazing Korean and Indian food! Some of the most thought provoking conversations I've ever had have been with our friends and I love learning from them.
-Since we live near one of the largest cities in America there is so much to do! Amazing museums, the beach, NASA...just to name a few.
-By living here I have spent a lot of time with Brian's parents and know them well.

Though I miss home and hope to return to the Mountain West in the future, I am grateful for our experiences in Texas and know that living somewhere out of my comfort zone has helped me become a better person. I think a good definition of a trial is when the unexpected in life happens and for me that was moving to Texas instead of Utah. It might seem a small thing for some people (what is a trial for one isn't for another) but living here has pushed me beyond what I thought I was capable of.

********

 

I'll post some pictures of our trip soon! 

Must...Keep...Blogging

Some days I really miss my blog. I used to update it so frequently... Around the time I finally got a FB account is about when I stopped posting often. So here's to keeping the blog alive!!!

This picture is the view from the front yard of my Utah house. Last summer I spent so much time outside...just breathing in the cool summer night air and gazing at the mountains that hugged the neighborhood I remember so well. I was in Utah a few weeks ago and I took a nice walk that turned in to a hike in the foothills by my house. It was so beautiful. I miss mountains. I miss open spaces and dry, cool air. I miss hiking! I miss mountain biking! I miss playing basketball with my family on the driveway. I miss these beautiful sunsets. I miss hilly, ragged, asphalt roads. I miss houses that don't conform, yards that need work, yards that are beautiful and unique. I miss houses painted pink and churches on every corner. I miss the familiar clank of my grandparents door when I walk inside to visit with them--the unmistakable smell of grandma's house. I miss seeing children playing and wandering the streets at dusk. I miss, oh I miss aspens--quakies as we call them. I miss the slow pace of an unchanging city. I miss Taco Amigo. I miss shopping at Macey's grocery store. I miss soft green grass that you can lay on. I miss the colors of fall. I miss driving up Battle Creek road--the familiarity of Mount Timpanogos and the thrill of seeing little blotches of red and orange on the mountains in late September. I miss seeing, watching, hearing hummingbirds--dozens of them at a time drinking nectar from our backyard deck. I miss the G on the mountain and the beautiful meadow even higher on the mountain that goes unnoticed by so many hikers. I miss my enchanted waterfall a short hike from my house. I miss running, biking, roller-blading the Provo canyon trail. I miss walking along the canal that stretches for miles in the valley. I miss gardening--being able to plant corn, squash, cucumbers and tomatoes straight in to the ground. I miss family. I miss children laughing, playing, screaming. I miss games around the dinner table. I miss ongoing conversation--opinionated, heated, caring...I miss father and mother, brothers and sisters, grandmas and grandpas, aunts, uncles, cousins, neices and nephews. I miss my dear Pleasant Grove...you never, ever change and I like it that way.

Most Embarrassing Moment

As I was going through an old journal, I found a writing of my most embarrassing moment. I was 19 at the time. This was my first summer home from college. I am going to suffer through the embarrassment and shame of this story to make whoever reads it laugh. Enjoy.



"Sometimes people are going to have their share of bad luck. I got hired for Lehi City employment--this required a drug test. So this morning I go in to the place that is specifically for drug and alcohol testing. The building was tucked away in an obscure part of Orem. I felt pretty weird being there. I decided to go on my lunch break (I just started my other job). I was in a hurry to get back in time. One guy ran the drug testing place and he was a hippie. He got my info, put on his gloves, and unwrapped the pee-in-cup kit. He said "This might sound uncomfortable, but I need you to not flush the toilet or wash your hands until I have your cup." He marked the line where I needed to fill it. I felt pressure right away...could I fill it all the way to the line? Well it was stop and go but I did it, with a perfect fill right to the line. It did take a while to fill it and I was starting to worry what hippie man was thinking. I didn't want him to think I was doing anything crazy (like washing my hands or flushing the toilet) and I had to get back to my other job. Without thinking, I set my lengthy stream of toilet paper that I used to wipe on the counter by the sink--why I didn't put it in the toilet I do not know. Was this also a no-no according to hippie man? I already felt so restricted in this whole process. While I was hurrying I felt a tremendous amount of pride in my healthy cup of pee. I did it. I took my first ever drug test! I set it down and fumbled to find the zipper on my pants. To my horror, my unimaginable horror and dismay, I knocked the cup of pee off with my elbow and watched as it slowly hit the floor and quickly spread out all over the place. I didn't know what to do. If I wasn't allowed to wash my hands than I certainly wasn't allowed to spill my pee the floor. I had to let the guy know why I was in there for so long, lest he arrest me for tampering with my test. I threw the door open and looked at the hippie in horror. "I have something embarrassing to say" I blurted. Only I didn't say anything I just held open the door and let him look at the disaster. I can't imagine how disgusted he was--even as a hippie. This is when I realized that my wad of toilet paper was on the basin, not in the toilet. I was so worried about achieving the "in and out" method of drug testing that I had no time to gather my senses while finishing up. Why oh why did I put it on the counter? Well Hippie man wasted no time. He walked straight to that wad of toilet paper, touching only a tiny corner of it, and as it unfolded in to a never-ending stream of crumpled bath tissue, he disposed of it. I was a little thrown off. Why attack the toilet paper so quickly? Wasn't the large amount of pee on the floor the most disturbing of it all? I don't know when he noticed the pee but he must have at some point because he grumbled something about going to find a mop somewhere. He came back with mop in hand and said "I have never cleaned in my life, I have never even held a mop before". I didn't have time to analyze how odd that statement was so I grabbed the mop and cleaned up the Kayla-covered-pee-floor. I was so embarrassed! When it was over I turned to leave--get this--and the Hippie turns to me and actually SAYS "I know how you feel. I spilled coffee on my shirt this morning". Are you kidding? What a consoling man."

And at the bottom of the page is a portrait I drew of Hippie man.

On being Yoo-Neek

Did you know the pronunciation guide in the dictionary for unique is seriously "yoo-neek"? I love that.

I sat down to post something non-motherhooddy but here I am and all I can think of is this:

I have read a handful of blogs today, all Mormon mothers that stay home with their children. And I could have been the author of any of the posts I read. Mostly they talked about the struggles and triumphs of our (Mormon mothers) situation: choosing to stay home with the kids rather than pursue a career.

I like to think of myself as someone that had a promising career (I had fabulous grades in college, I studied music and communication which both intersted me, I had a great internship that could have possibly landed me a great job). But instead of pursuing that career I chose to start a family and followed the teaching of my church which is that mothers, where possible, should be home with their children instead of putting them in another's care.

But I don't recall making that choice. I don't know that I ever even considered the alternative which is that I put my kids in day care, or maybe just didn't have any children. When I met Brian and got married it was a given. We didn't even think about another scenario. We started our family when we knew I could graduate from college, Brian got his education and got a job.

I wonder if it is like that on the flip-side. I wonder if most women (I'm talking non-mormons here) get their job and earn money because it is just the norm. It is a given. And maybe in the thick of the demands of their job, when they come home tired and stressed, they ever realize they could choose to live a completely different life, one where they have children and care for them at home.

Maybe when I have a really hard day and I wish for a different scenario, one where I have a career, there is a woman on the other side of the fence that wants what I have?

I guess what I'm saying is that you have to find happiness with what you've got. Even though on those hard, tiring days, I think I would possibly enjoy a career more than staying at home with my kids, the fact is, I probably wouldn't be.

When I read all these other blogs I don't feel lonely. I know EXACTLY what and how the other stay-at-hom moms are feeling. In fact, I'm amazed at how my situation is anything but unique.

It is when I think about myself compared to most women my age in the world that I feel unique. Really I shouldn't even be married yet, let alone have two children by the world's standards. The uniqueness comes by that comparison.

Not too long ago Brian and I had a small reception at a nice restaurant with the Houston Camerata, a choir we were both in at the time. We sat across from another couple that was probably in their fifties. They both had very busy, accomplished lives. They had no children. In fact, they were surprised to find that we had two children. They even asked if we were Catholic (when we told them we were Mormon they had no response). Probably they didn't grow up in big families. Maybe even they didn't have any siblings. They, like me, probably followed the examples of their parents, which for them was pursuing a career. They probably didn't even realize they had a choice.

Even though I never really gave much thought to life outside of being a stay at home mom, I'm still happy with what I have. I know that I could go get a job if I wanted one or felt like that was a better thing for my family, but for now, I'm sticking with being unique.

Writing Again

Hello Blog. I'm sorry I have neglected you for so long.

I think I'm going to start making this blog more of a place to write.

So here are some thoughts I've had lately...

One of the worse feelings in the world is picking up some trash on the floor and realizing when you've picked it up that it is a dead bug, or worse, a dried up frog.

Motherhood is still hard. But not hard in the literal sense. It is hard mentally. It requires daily positive self-talk. Negative thoughts are my worse enemy. I have to tell myself over and over to be more cheery, to think happy thoughts, to play with my children.

If I think too much about yesterday or tomorrow I go insane. One day at a time when you stay home with kids all day every day. If I can have a good day today, everything will be fine.

I'm always tired. I look tired. I can't get out of bed in the morning. I can't fall asleep at night. Pregnant you say? Nope. Your thyroid is low? Nope. I don't know what it is. Getting older I guess?

I find joy in focusing on my children and recognizing their personalities and unique gifts. When I take time to look at them more closely I can almost see them 10 or 15 years from now. And I feel lucky that I get to be around such cool people all the time.

I'm really blessed that I love cooking and baking so much because feeding my family is a big part of what I do.

Alright, I'm tired so I'm going to take a nap now while I have the chance.

Adieu.