For the Beauty of the Earth

I had an AWESOME morning. Woke up 'on time', even though I SOO felt like going back to bed. Nice scripture study. Workout was good. Harder than I anticipated, but that's a good thing, right? Means I'm working hard. At least I hope so. Sat down for breakfast. No one is up yet, so I can actually taste my food. Nice. Then I look over to the side door. It's drizzling. So that's what I heard earlier before I went downstairs. I can hear it again through the cracked kitchen window. I love how my window is over the sink. Love it. Two houses ago it was an old, blank, greasy wall. Yuck. So I continue eating my organic granola and drinking my organic soymilk. My one organic indulgence. And, yes, they are separate. I do not mix cereal and milk. The soft dripping of the rain soothes me. I pause. Still, no one up. I say a quiet "Yay!" to myself. Then close my eyes and just enjoy the moment. Looking out the door and just eating my cereal. Who knew such a simple thing could be so wonderful? I say a quiet prayer of thanks. I want to keep my quiet while I can, after all. A couple tears roll down my face, and I keep them there. A few more come, and then I wipe them away. Then I hear sounds of Lani playing in her bed. This is a little different - she usually runs out of her room when she wakes up. I guess I'm not the only one having a good morning. Well, I'm not gonna mess with a good thing. Certainly gonna milk this. I smile to myself. This is great. I'm finished with my cereal now, so I quietly take my bowl and cup to the counter. I walk into the girls' room, surprised to see Ayiana still asleep. Lani is singing to herself, so I lay down next to her bed and listen. I thought she saw me come in, but she hasn't looked my way yet. I brush her leg with one finger. Nothing. A few seconds later, she finally sees me. I get a beautiful smile. Then, the first words of the day: "Byoo-poo, byoo-poo! Mom. Byoo-poo, byoo-poo!" She is soaking wet, but the jammies are not too bad. So we go and get a diaper from the bathroom closet. And the day begins.



Now, it is almost lunch time. The sun is peeking through the clouds. The world is wide awake now. Someday I will have a house in the country. But not too far away from a Cheesecake Factory.

My Un-Birthday

You may not have known this, but Wednesday was my un-birthday.

I had been folding towels on my bed this afternoon, and was almost done, so I took a little break and just laid down to chill. Ayiana told me to close my eyes because she had a surprise for me. So, long story short, I dozed off. I woke up to Ammon & Ayiana talking to each other in hushed tones: "Hurry up, put this in there..." What the...? So, I roll over, and see a pile of small, just random toys on my bed. Then they both come into my room, each carrying one side of the 'birthday cake' (like it is SO heavy!) from the set I got Ayiana for her birthday, singing "Happy Birthday" to me! Awe! "It's your birthday, Mom!" Ayiana says, matter-of-factly. They set the 'cake' on my bed, and then proceed to tell me about each 'gift' as I open them. So, of course, I had to grab the camera.

After a couple pictures, Ammon boldly announces, "...and Mom - here's the best gift of all!" I turn my attention from the girls, and he is holding up a small, red, tattered Book of Mormon that our dogs had gotten to a while ago, but I never wanted to throw out. I welled up a bit, and said, "Yeah, you're right, buddy, it is!"

As parents, we try so hard to teach our children correct principles. I have such great kids. Sometimes, my efforts feel in vain. We kneel when we pray, not lay in our beds or sit when we are physically able to kneel. I encounter a lot of moaning and groaning with this. Oftentimes, getting reverent for family prayer in our home takes longer than the prayer itself. I wonder sometimes if I am getting through to them, when all I see at Family Home Evening is the back of their heads. But then I listen to their personal prayers, and their spirits shine through. They are not trying to impress me with eloquence. They are having a sincere, genuine conversation with their Heavenly Father, and they are speaking from their hearts. To some, it may not seem like a huge payoff - a child's prayer. But their words are not merely words. As they pray each day, these words are gradually becoming the fiber of their little beings. I love to see their spiritual progression with each day, each week, each month... It is truly amazing. Ayiana prays right now for "Mommy to get married" (she means 'sealed'). :) Ammon's prayers get stronger each day. He is becoming more and more focused on his upcoming baptism (a little over a year from now), and reading the scriptures before his baptism day. He names each book of scripture every night: "The Holy Bible, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price." I love it! I could not ask for more right now, but even as I write this, I know that my Heavenly Father will bless me with even more than I can fathom!

Reminiscing with my Ammon Cheese rocks!

Since Sunday evening, I have wanted to post something, but it had to be something that made me excited. But nothing. Until tonight. I know I should probably be in bed, but, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to remember as much if I waited until tomorrow. So here I am. The day went pretty good, as well as can be expected with a squealy almost 2-year-old and her strong-willed, sometimes smothering, siblings. (Say that five times fast, ha ha.) Well, now we are to the end of the day. Everyone is clean, story and prayer, hugs and kisses, let's go upstairs now, get in your beds. I sing Twinkle, Twinkle and I Am a Child of God for the girls, personal prayers, okay, tell me the Sleep Rules, Ayiana. Night, girls, stay in your beds, 'kay? Next is Ammon's room. I walk in, he's playing Legos as usual. "C'mon, bud, let's say prayers." He gets onto his bed, kneels down. So he says his prayers. Very cute, as always. "Okay, what song do you want?" "Oh, but I wanted to look at my magazine real quick." (My mom sends him Nat Geo for Kids.) "Okay, real quick." So we find a page with 7 interesting facts about the Earth. He really liked the coldest temp ever recorded, I think it was -124.6 Fahrenheit, in Antarctica. My number kid. So then we finish reading, and I sing the song he picked: Tell Me The Stories of Jesus. "Okay, 'night, buddy..." I start to say. "But aren't you going to tell me a story?" he asks. What the heck is he talking about? We just read story and I just read a magazine page with him..? I am getting a little annoyed at this point, because I still have to clean up in the kitchen, and I feel that tugging at my brain. But I indulge him. "Well, what do you mean?" I ask him. "Not like a story from a book...I mean, like a story about your day, or when you were little, or something like that." WHOA! Umm, okay... That hit me out of the clear blue. Trying to not show the somewhat stunned look I probably had on my face, I sat back down next to his bed. I thought about it for a second, and then it came to me. I told him how his uncle and I used to climb out of the skylight in a house in Germany and sit on the roof. When it snowed we stockpiled snowballs like ammunition. Who we had planned on throwing them at, I don't remember anymore. A German farmer, whose horses grazed in the pasture next to our home, once yelled at us to get down and then told my mom (at least that's how I remember it). We got a scolding, big time! He got a kick out of that. So that story reminded me of another high-up adventure my brother Marcus & I once had. My dad would occasionally take us to the base gym while he played racquetball. There was an overlook where you could see down into the racquetball courts, so we liked to go up there by the old exercise bikes and huge fans and watch our dad kick some butt. One day (I think it was Marcus' idea), we decided to jump off of the overlook onto a huge stack of thick exercise mats. I remember being scared, but I did it anyway. There was a booming SMACK! on the mats. Marcus' turn. SMACK! I didn't remember when I told Ammon, but I think Marcus landed on his back and got the wind knocked out of him. Well, some way or another, my dad, of course, finds out what we did. We may have gotten our ears yanked, and I DEFINITELY remember a lecture about being the oldest and the example...oh, some good times! We laugh about it now, of course. Ammon was cracking up, and it jogged his memory about a story of his own. I have such a great son. I'm so grateful that I ignored that voice that was nagging me to just go wipe the dining table. Love you, Ammon Joseph!