I Miss Them

I always get nervous when I'm about to do something that will draw attention. Nothing big, just something simple enough as standing up in a room to talk, knowing that some, if not all, eyes will be on me. It's stupid to feel that way, I think. But I can't get over it.

Today I went to school to watch my (former) class perform their opera. Cue nervousness. I wasn't going to do anything but walk in the school, find the gym, sit in a chair and watch my kids perform. But, people will see me and maybe even notice me! Stupid, I know, but nonetheless, cue nervousness.

The nervousness melted away as soon as I saw this:

And then heard more than a few muffled voices from behind the curtain yell, "It's Teacher!" "Teacher is here!" "Where?!" "Right there!!" "Hi Teacher!!" "Yea! Teacher!" and my favorite, "I KNEW she would come!"

All I could do after that was grin. Those were my kids! Darn. I missed them.

I didn't think I did. After we picked up Caleb and I settled in as the stay-at-home-mommy I always wanted to be, I even forgot who most of the kids were. I started mixing them up with former students, not really sure who I had which year. When people would ask me if I missed teaching, my response was always "I miss the people I worked with. But I don't miss the kids. I can't even remember them!"

As I walked in the gym, picked up a program which contained the names and characters of all the kids in the opera, the faces started coming back. I started remembering my kids. They were such great kids. I could now picture all of their faces. (...except one. I couldn't remember who he was. And then I heard his voice from behind the curtain. How could I have forgotten him!?)

The opera was great. The kids sang well and looked so excited. No nervous ones in THIS bunch.

When it was all over, as I was talking to a few parents, I was suddenly bombarded by a dozen small kids hugging me and exclaiming "Teacher!" These were my kids. I found myself hugging back and then searching the group making sure I got each of them. I didn't want to miss any of them. Spotting a few shyer ones in the back I'd reach out and grab them and hug them, noticing how pleased they looked to be noticed. I wanted to sit and talk to them all. I just wanted to BE there with them. They were so happy and excited and, well, first-graderish. I missed that.

When I go on walks around my neighborhood I see kids as they walk home from school. Some I kind of know, some I just know their parents, and some I don't know at all. Do I say hi to them? Do I ignore them? It's awkward. I half-wish they weren't around. I've started wondering if my ability to work with children was a little over-rated. I couldn't even talk to kids in my own neighborhood. I don't have a clue what to say to them. I'd become one of those adults who either talk down to kids or mumble something, nod, and walk by.

But being with my kids, the awkwardness just wasn't there. There's no room for it. The pats on the back, the hugs, the smiles and the giggles came naturally. I was in my element.

Sometimes I wish my two worlds would combine. I wish the kids in my class and their families lived in my neighborhood. It would be so nice and natural. I would know where I belonged. Trying to figure out where I belong since I stopped going to school has been a little bit of a trial. I love my neighbors, but I just haven't figured out where I fit. At school I have a place. A little little carved out niche where I can just be. It's nice. Feels like home.

As I walked into my old classroom it felt like coming home. It would be just as natural having Caleb sit on a blanket and play with toys in that room as it would be in my living room. I wanted to stay. I wanted to talk to my kids and my teacher friends. But there was no good excuse to stay. I had to go. Caleb needed a nap. I needed to eat lunch and get ready for the temple that night. Life goes on.

But I feel good now. More complete. More like myself. Like just being there for that little bit of time renewed in me who I was and who I had been for the past 10 years.

Sometimes I want to go back. I want to be part of that world again. But I know it's in the past, just like high school, London Study Abroad, and my senior year of college. I loved those times in my life and sometimes I miss them. But it wouldn't do any good to go back. All I can do is be so glad that I have such great memories and friendships and just feel good remembering all that joy. I guess I'll have to look at school the same way. It was a period in my life that, at the time, I thought of as a trial. A constant reminder that I lost my baby and that I couldn't have more kids. I felt like a fraud. I wasn't really a teacher. I didn't really want to be there.

But now I see that it was exactly where I was supposed to be. Teaching at that school helped me see who I am and showed me who I could become. It showed me I could do more than I ever thought possible. It gave me confidence and an awareness that there is more to me than I ever knew.

It will always be a big part of who I am.

I know now I will always remember my kids. And I will miss them.

32 Is The New Black

I turned 32 on Tuesday. Did you know that 32 is where it's at now? Well, it is.

29's got nuthin' on it.

Zack has decided to make it my birthday week so he started the birthday festivities on Monday. I think he was just trying to find an excuse to give me my present early. He has a hard time keeping secrets from me, even if those secrets are birthday presents...or Christmas presents, or Valentine's Day presents, or Flag Day or, you get the idea.

So Monday night he gave me my gift: The last three years of my blog all nice and bound up in book form! It makes me feel like an author, kind of. It's really fun to see all my writing in a nice, polished book.

He also gave me my birthday cake. He knows Dick's chocolate sheet cake is, by far, my favorite dessert.

A cake wreck it is not.

When you don't have kids old enough to eat, let alone know what a cake is, you don't need to go through the pretense of cutting it into pieces and using plates. You start at one end and stop when you feel like it.

So that was Monday night. Tuesday morning Zack let me sleep in while he got the boy up, fed him and then made me breakfast: French toast with bananas, strawberries and Nutella. On a side note, has anyone seen how Nutella is marketing their product? They're touting it's ability to make your kids eat healthier foods. Yeah. By putting CHOCOLATE on them. And they're not even using foods that kids don't usually like to eat, like veggies. They're using bread as their "tough to get kids to eat" food. What kid won't eat bread?

So our breakfast conversation was full of snarky statements like "I sure love Nutella. It helps my kids eat healthy foods like pasta, peanut butter and candy. Normally they wouldn't touch the stuff, but after I slather chocolate all over it they just eat it up!"

It was a nice birthday breakfast.

For lunch Caleb and I and the puppies all went up to Zack's work for the first picnic lunch of the year. There's a nice lawn area with picnic tables set up outside his building.

Zack and the crew getting ready to walk up the hill to the picnic table.

Sitting at the picnic table.

After lunch Zack went back to work and I took the crew home, put Caleb down for his nap, and read a book for two hours. *sigh*

When Caleb's nap was over we went for our daily walk around the neighborhood.

Zack came home early to watch Caleb so my mom could take me to get a pedicure with her. Ah, nothing says birthday quite like an Asian lady rubbing your feet and speaking unintelligible English. All kidding aside, it was a fun way to be pampered and my fingernails and toenails have never looked better. Thanks, Mom!

Now I can wear my strappy shoes in style!

Mom even watched Caleb for us so we could go out to dinner. We went to the Cheesecake Factory. I've only been there a few times, but everything I've tried there has been pretty tasty and they did not disappoint that night.

When we first got there and were seated Zack asked me if I was okay with our table. He felt a little too close to the people on either side of us. I said I was fine, but we could move if he wanted to. He decided not to bother. A few minutes later one of the managers came and asked us if we wouldn't mind moving to another table as they had mistakenly seated us at that table and they would be needing it for a bigger party that was coming. And, for our trouble, would we accept free desserts? Well, okay. If we have to. And only since you're throwing in free dessert. That's what we said.

Okay, we might not have said those specific words to them, but we might have said it to each other in very sarcastic tones.

We weren't planning on getting dessert at all, for a few reasons. First, we had birthday cake at home. And second, who would pay $7.50 for one piece of cake?! Well, after getting the red velvet cheesecake, I might now be one of those people.

After we picked up our baby boy from his doting grandparents we went home and put him to bed. And then we watched two episodes of "Modern Family" on Hulu. Awe.Some.

We would have watched more but it was past 11:00 and, did I mention that we're both 32 now?

...And now we're using him to try and get free stuff.

So I was listening to 97.1 on the radio the other day and I heard them mention something about a Baby Idol contest they were having. Basically, send in your baby's picture and then let people vote to decide whose baby is the cutest.

Interesting, I said to myself. Intriguing. My baby is obviously very cute, very cute indeed.

But is he cuter than other babies?

I decided to try and find out. The chance to win free baby supplies and diapers for a year was also a big draw.

So, I've entered my baby in a contest of cuteness.

Actually, it's not really a contest of cuteness. It's a contest of popularity. A contest to see which baby has the most friends. You see, there are 770 baby photos to vote for. I predict there will not be random voters who look at EVERY SINGLE PHOTO and then choose the one they think is the cutest. No, the only people who will actually vote in this contest will be the family friends of the babies who are entered. And they'll vote for their baby, even if it's not the cutest one. So MY baby won't have a chance to win what is rightfully his unless his friends and family vote for him.

So, if you feel inclined to vote for him, go to this website:

http://www.971zht.com/pages/babyidol10/

and vote. He's number 731. Don't bother looking through all the photos until you get to #731. This is the photo you'd see.

Isn't he cute?

Joy

This time of year, 6 years ago, life seemed to end for me. Zack and I lost our baby boy.

This time of year, 3 years ago, life ended again. I lost my brother.

For a long time I forgot what it felt like to truly feel joy. I was happy. I looked forward to the day when pain and hurt were gone and that brought some happiness. But there always seemed to be a dark cloud hovering around. Things were good, but they were also tinted with sadness all the time. It seemed we were doomed to just be cheerful through tribulation because the tribulation seemed to never end.

A few months ago Zack and I were talking about all the changes going on in our family. After waiting and praying for 7 years we had finally been blessed with a son and were "expecting" some time this year with another one. And if that weren't good enough, our kids would actually have 3 cousins their age because my three brothers were all expecting in the spring. To top it off, my cousin, plus two of our good friends were also expecting this summer. Life was good.

As we talked about all of this, I suddenly realized I was feeling good. Really good. A good that I hadn't felt in a long time. Excited, happy, put a huge grin on your face good. I hadn't realized how absent that feeling was until just then. I think for a while there I was afraid to feel that kind of joy because it might be taken away at any moment. It had happened too many times before.

Joy like that feels really good.

Things still don't feel complete. There's always the feeling that someone is missing and that won't change until we're all together again.

But until then, right now, it's so good to feel joy again.

I'll leave you with this picture because it makes me happy. And when I want to start crying today because I miss Jeff, I'll remember days like this one and I'll remind myself that while it's okay to be sad, it's okay to be happy, too, because I have an awesome family. Aaaand then I'll start crying because I'm so happy I have such an awesome family. Oh well. I guess I just can't avoid the tears today.

Sunday Has Come

I can't think of a better way to express how I feel this Easter season than with this talk by Elder Wirthlin.



Sunday has come. Our Savior died for us and was resurrected the third day. I cannot imagine the joy the apostles and disciples- all those who loved Jesus- felt when they realized that He was not dead, but He had risen. I can imagine a little how Mary Magdalene felt when He was crucified. And when she came that Sunday and discovered that His body was gone. How she wept tears of sorrow for Him. How much she missed Him. And I weep with her. But I know what's coming next. And I feel just a touch of the joy she must have felt when she realized the "gardener" she thought she had been speaking with was her Savior. When I read that account I cry tears of joy with her. He is alive! He is not dead!
Her Sunday had come.

Those of us who have lost loved ones, be they brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, husbands, wives, cousins, grandmothers and grandfathers, or friends, our Sunday will come. Because of the love of our Savior, and His atonement that broke the bonds of death, our Sunday will come.
Just knowing that, just having that promise, I can already taste how sweet that Sunday will be.
And I rejoice in the infinite love that my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ, has for me.

He is not dead, but He is risen.