well, what do you know

Our Halloween rocked.

Instead of snuggling up sipping spiced apple cider we made Pumpkin Smoothies, which no one really liked but hey, we're trying to make the most of it.

We decided to carve a (as in one and only one) pumpkin at 4:30 this afternoon for the first time in three years. See, we're making progress.

Our last minute (as in 5 minutes prior to the party) costumes won the awards for funniest, most creative and 1st place at our neighborhood Halloween party.

(can you read his sign? He's Joe the Plumber and I'm Sarah Palin. But you knew that, right? Please?)

I could have never gotten away with that one in Jersey...

And the kids had a great time on the neighborhood trick or treating trailer ride. When we got home from trick or treating, I told the kids to each pick their 10 favorite pieces of candy, and then threw the rest back into our bucket to give away. To my surprise, they totally went for it, all excited about choosing their favorite 10. Well, huh. We are so doing that every year.

And no one will ever know that Lydia's wearing last year's costume, right? She really wanted to be a monkey (because ever since Brazil, that's her favorite animal) but Carter's super cute monkey costume that Erin made was way too big. Then I thought it would be cute for her to be super girl to go with the boys, but I was too late to buy it and not ambitious enough to make it. She didn't seem to mind being a fairy again, since she got to wear glittery make up.

Happy Halloween!

A Houston Halloween

Halloween is a fall holiday right?

Evidently here in Texas, we just pretend it's fall. People around here look at me like I'm crazy when I complain about it not feeling like fall so I'm really trying to be positive and appreciate Houston for all it's own inner beauty. But something's just not right about it being in the 80s on Halloween.

We have had some really fantastic cooler, less humid days lately. I even wore a sweater twice this week, until I got too hot in the afternoon.

I know, I know. We're going to be here for a while. Get over it. Fine, I will. But I totally may spray paint the leaves on our trees this weekend.

A little Time Out

I adore my husband.

I'm in love with my kids.

And I also really enjoy my occasional weekends away from them.

Matt has quickly caught on to what a little time away with the girls does for me as a wife and mom and readily encourages these now annual trips to relax, recharge and refocus.

This year it was a trip to Philly to go to this:

It was a perfect weekend. Of course we squeezed in a little New York time, but the highlight was going to the conference with my dear Jersey friends who always have a way of inspiring and uplifting me. I even ran into my cute friend Jessica (who lived in Redlands once upon a time and now lives in PA) unexpectedly at the conference. It was so fun to see you, Jess! The only thing that could have made the weekend more perfect would have been to have Matt and the kids there with me. I loved being back in New Jersey. I loved the cool weather and the fall colors. Most of all I loved going to back to church in East Brunswick. After a year and a half, it still felt like I never left. There's something pretty special about that ward (that really feels life family) that I can't quite let go of. If it hadn't been for Matt and the kids back in Texas, I might not have ever left.

Then again, had Matt and the kids come with me, it would have defeated the whole purpose of the girls weekend. And it really was all just what I needed. I left here one Thursday night a few weeks ago, feeling like I was running somewhat on empty. While the last year has been incredibly enriching, exciting and adventurous for our family, it's also been extremely draining on me.

I came home at peace and empowered in my own little ways to face my own challenges.

I started reading on the flight home:

Good thing I was in a window seat and could somewhat curl up in my little corner as the tears poured down my face onto my dry roasted peanuts. It seemed to just sum up the message I felt from my Heavenly Father throughout the weekend.

And have you read this little book?

I read it on a monthly basis.

something else that's consuming my thoughts

Our family and friends in California are working tirelessly to help residents really understand what Prop. 8 is about, (because the media's sure doing a lot to cloud the issues and confuse voters) only to have their signs stolen at night and to be attacked by protesters on the way to worship at the temple. Then throw in the 1st grade class taking school sponsored field trips to a gay wedding and "gay day" in kindergarten-things are getting pretty heated over there. But aside from donations (which are needed) I don't know what else to do. Except talk about it.

So here it is in plain English:

We try to practice respect, tolerance and acceptance. But do you really understand what this means for public school, and maybe even for marriages being performed in our own temples? We should be able to expect the same respect in our practices of religion and when and what values and ideals our children are taught, but as I read articles and commentaries I feel the rage building within me over the hatred, disrespect, dishonesty, confusion and anger from both sides.

So I turn to my own religious leaders, and found this article, which offered clarity and a little light to the darkness hanging over all his.

READ IT, and then if you agree, please donate because it's going to take a whole lot to counter the millions of dollars being pumped into opposition to Prop. 8 by the California Teacher's Association (huh?) and Hollywood.

can't get it out of my head

This Story about the Nielsons. About sisters. About hope. About love.

And now that I've stopped crying, something else I can't get out of my head is my own sisters. Their lives. Their challenges. Their strengths. I need to be a better sister.

I'm grateful for sisters. Blood, law, and the ones that fill in when the real kind are too far away.

a story and our wall

Once upon a time a little boy found some himself some heroes.

These heroes:

They are the Stripling Warriors. This painting by Clark Kelly Price is entitled, "It's True Sir- All Present and Accounted For". Their story is found in the Book of Mormon, which is a second witness of Jesus Christ and a companion volume of scripture to the Bible that records God’s dealings with the ancient inhabitants of the Americas. Their story goes like this:

(as told by the artist)

Seldom in the annals of history has there been such an inspiring example of unwavering faith in God as was exhibited by the valiant young sons of the Ammonites. These two thousand and sixty young men were a "Great support" to their country's defense. Though they had never fought, the scriptures tell us "they were exceedingly valiant for courage . . . . . and true at all times in whatsoever thing they were instructed. They were men of truth and soberness, for they had been taught to keep the commandments of God, and to walk up rightly before God." (Alma 53:20-21) Their mothers had especially influenced their faith. Their commanding officer, Helaman, called them his "sons," "for they are worthy to be called sons," he said. (Alma 56:10) They called him "father", such was the love and respect they had for him.

This scene depicts the moment when Helaman (shown on his horse) learns from a subordinate officer that all two thousand and sixty of his beloved sons have survived a terrible battle in which everyone of them have "received many wounds." This was the second time this had occurred, though many other soldiers in the army had perished, this "little band" under Helaman's leadership, lost not a single man. Speaking of this unbelievable occurrence, Helaman states, "two hundred out of my two thousand and sixty had fainted because of the loss of blood; nevertheless, according to the goodness of God and to our great astonishment, and also the joy of the whole army, there was not one soul of them who did perish.

A year and a half ago, our family took this little trip to Palmyra, New York. We spent some time in the Hill Cumorah Visitor's Center where there happened to be a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL video clip about the Stripling Warriors.

Although it was nearing time to begin our 6 hour journey home, we could not pull Garrett away. He pushed the button over and over and OVER. Each time, my eyes welled up at the poignant message and the genuine intrigue my sweet little boy had in these 2000 young men.

Some 5 hours after leaving Palmyra, Garrett sat quietly staring out the window. After this continued for some time, I joined him in the back seat and asked him what he was thinking about it.

He replied, "The Stripling Warriors".

This began a tender conversation about these heroes, his deeper understanding of them and what it was about them that made them so valiant, faithful and full of the strength of the Lord.

At some point, it hit me. He gets it.

He wants to be like them.

Help him do it.

Since this time, we have often discussed the Stripling Warriors with our family. They come up in Family Home Evening and in very unexpected yet precious teaching moments. We've likened ourselves unto them, discussing the qualities, the faith, the courage they had, and what we need to be to be like them.

We want their story to be our story.

Matt and I want to be like Helaman and the parents of the 2000 Stripling Warriors who must lead our precious little ones off into battle, having taught them the truth and to have faith in God.

I think of my kids. Valiant. Faithful. Going forward to wage this horrible final battle against Satan himself.

Our quest is that in the end, we rejoice as Helaman did, knowing that we are:

back for a limited time

ME.

After another month long unplanned hiatus, I'm back with a firm commitment to not commit at all to how long I'll be back for. I've all but given up on this blogging thing because lately I feel like I'm drowning and some things just have to go from time to time.

But I have some time this weekend and I have some things to say, some memories to document, and some stories to tell.

I may even get two or three posts in before I disappear again. I know, aren't you lucky? Those few of you who actually happen to check my uneventful blog on occasion. And even if there are none of you left, at least my journal won't suffer this continued neglect.