PeOpLe ArE pEOpLe No MaTtEr HoW sMaLl

"We must be so careful in speaking to a child. What we say or don't say, how we say it and when is so very, very important in shaping a child's view of herself. But it is even more important in shaping that child's faith in us and their faith in God. Be constructive in your comments to a child- always."
-Jeffrey R. Holland-

The J shaped pancake

Something that's been on my mind lately is my growing awareness of the fact that I am largely unaware. Let me explain.

Recently at girls camp I was one morning infuriated with someone. I gave my classic, "what in the world" face (menacing eyes, hands thrown up in the air, for those not fortunate enough to have received this look from me...it is after Anabelle has received this look that she will say, "am I so busted Mom?"). A dear friend was standing close by cooking breakfast for the camp while I gave this look to another friend. I never said anything to dear friend. I left the room and went about my activities. A few minutes later I got the above pictured pancake from her. She put it on my plate and walked away. I don't think any words were spoken between us. But by doing this, she said everything. It changed my day. It changed me, if ever so slightly.

That experience has brought to memory other recent similar stories. Small acts that have meant everything. Like the week Braden first lost his job and Bethany and Brooks came over for dinner and she brought me a small pot of bright pink flowers. That 5 dollar pot of flowers brought me immense cheer for the next two weeks. It completely lifted me every time I walked by them. Or a few weeks after that when I was living in the hospital with Lila, Lindsey brought me a pair of pink, fuzzy, polk a dot socks because my feet were always cold there. I have a vivid memory of standing outside the NICU door at 3 am RAGGED in every sense of the word. I was waiting for them to open the door as it always took a few minutes. I looked down at my feet and noticed my new socks and in that moment felt renewed strength. My friend couldn't do anything about Lila but she cared that my feet were cold and she did what she could to ease my burden. I hope I take moments of pauses and waiting and notice the big picture, notice my socks.

Another thing that comes to mind is a memory from last year when I went home to my parents house. I was sitting in the back of Relief Society. I watched my seminary teacher who was sitting with several of her many many family members in that ward, get up and leave them and quietly go sit with a new sister who was sitting alone. She left her comfort and literally put her arm around someone feeling vulnerable. In that moment she added authenticity to what she preached to me every morning from the scriptures.

Most of the things that came to mind are from times when I was in distress. I feel sad to realize that it is in these times that I notice more readily the ways in which I am being cared for, protected, and watched after in very tender ways. I have to assume that I am always being cared for in these ways, but that I hardly take notice unless I am compelled to by humbling circumstances.

I used to work at a treatment center for adolescent girls. In the midst of their lives being turned upside down with struggle, the advice from one particular therapist was often, "Just Be". I think of that from time to time. I am usually so caught up in coming, going, doing, that I don't sit still long enough to notice or recognize where He is in all of it.

It has been said that God is in the details, and I am finding that to be true more and more all the time. Yes, He is in the details. Indeed, He is in our pancakes.

Awww shucks

Lila had two tests done at Children's yesterday as a follow up to her UTI in May. After they gave her antibiotics I didn't feel that they were working so they gave her a big strong shot of another kind. But she hasn't been herself since then- yelling and throwing her body about in a crazy violent way. But there were no other symptoms. I kept waiting for a fever to indicate another infection. Monday I decided I had to take her to the pediatrician because her behavior was so unlike her. They checked her ears, teeth, and even cathed her and checked her urine. Everything was fine. Dr. Dennis said she was just being grumpy. That didn't make me happy. Well yesterday she had a renal ultrasound and a VCUG (Voiding CystoUrethroGram- which she sobbed pitifully through). In the ultrasound they discovered that she has a congenital kidney defect-her left kidney is bigger than her right kidney-they called it a duplicated collecting system. She said it is sort of rare to have and seems to be hereditary (all future beldo-gulia anklebiters must get these tests around 2 months of age). So that by itself is not terrible but then in the VCUG they found that she has bilateral reflux of both kidneys. So here's why that combo is no good: she is susceptible or prone to infections, then her body refluxes the infected urine up to her kidneys, which damages the kidneys. At least thats what I understand thus far. So she is now on an antibiotic that she has to take everyday, probably for the next few years at least to try to prevent further kidney damage. We are now being sent to a urologist to determine the "grades" and "phases" that her defects/conditions are in, ie; how severe her specific case is, do we need surgery or can we medicate and see if she will grow out of the reflux. I'm sure everything will be good in the end.

I'm anxious to get to the Urologist and get some more specific information. And I have to admit, I also feel a curiosity about a guy who decided to spend his life working with pee and private parts. I guess somebody has to do it. But I have always wondered how that decision comes about. That and proctology. Like when they are in med school and it comes time to decide on what their specialty will be and they announce to their family around the dinner table that it will be the study of the colon, rectum and anus. Undoubtedly someone asks why, and I would love to be around for the answer. It seems like all the doctors I know get hit up for advice all the time, in all sorts of casual and social settings. Do people do this to urologists and proctologists too? Do they dare? I'm sure all conversations start with, "So I have this friend...." I'm dying to meet this guy. I gotta get to the bottom of this. Bottom- ha ha ha...



This little gem in the Children's Harbor is new since we've been there last. At home we often hear Lila pounding away at the piano, perched on her tippy toes planking at whatever keys she can reach. She was ecstatic at this opportunity to play her heart out at a piano that was just her size. And pink no less. I tried to get her to play with different toys but she would have nothing else. Pink piano or bust. It makes her Daddy proud.

Grumpy? Sheesh, who do you think you are calling this kid grumpy?

Red, white, and blueberries

Berry picking in Chelsea. 8 bucks a gallon. A gallon is a LOT of blueberries. They have a box and you just drop your money in, no one is there tending it. The owner showed up while we were there and told us that he's been doing that for 8 years and has never had a problem with people paying. I love that about Alabama. It restores my belief in the goodness of people.


The week of the 4th brought us a visit from Tim and Katasha. Sort of. They came for treatments from the woman we affectionately and jokingly call our witch doctor. Who knew Birmingham Alabama would become the mecca of health? She has now seen 8 members of my family, each time with positive results. So we didn't actually see too much of them, but we'll take whatever we can get.It was enough time to maintain the Cranium champion title. (Poor boys, losing twice in a row. Such a sad record for guys who talk so big). Anabelle loved every minute cuddling, dancing, reading, and playing with them. In a conversation with Katasha, Abelle asked her, "So, where are you from?" Katasha says, "I'm from Utah. You've been there before." Abelle says that she has not. Katasha says, "Yes you have. That's where you're Uncle Kevin lives and your Uncle Jeff and your Aunt Michelle..." To which Anabelle replies, "I'm not an adult. I don't know where I've been."

Tim took some pictures that may be slightly better quality than mine. Possibly. But the only way we will ever know that is if he decides to give them to me. (Tim that was me daring you to get them to me. Need I throw a double dog out there? Don't make me use a triple dude. Not here. Not now. Not for this.) Several of you have asked me about the pic at the top of the blog- it is from Tim who will be traveling the country for the next year in a bus taking pictures as he goes. Look for him in your city. The website is www.infinity-imagery.com

Late night meditations...

About a week or so ago Braden and I had a weird experience. It came and went and I hadn't really thought on it since. But tonight as I tried to go to sleep, for whatever reason, my mind keeps replaying what happened and I am left with the impression that the experience holds a deeper significance. A metaphor maybe? So here I am in what has become my only source of record keeping trying to write it out so I can get some sleep.

It was late and I was buying something online. I was the only one awake. Right as I was finishing the purchase I was suddenly feeling consumed with worry. I paused a while before finalizing trying to decipher the feeling. Because I couldn't decide if the feeling was related to what I was doing or something else, I didn't continue and instead went to bed.

After a while (I don't think I had even fallen asleep yet) Anabelle came in our room and asked me to snuggle her. I took her into the bed in the spare room and she fell back to sleep. Awhile later, Braden had apparently awoken and came in the room where we were. He asked me to bring Anabelle back to our room where he is. He says he has a worried feeling and feels that we all need to be together. I carry Anabelle back to our room so now our whole family is together. I lay down and after a minute Braden asks me to trade him sides so that he is closer to the door. Then a while later he walks the house, making sure it is secure. Then a while later he got up and shut the door to our room. When he did this I wondered for a minute what a closed door would do in the face of something truly fierce and dangerous. It struck me then that he seemed desperate to protect in any way possible. I even got up and put on clothes in case we needed to leave suddenly. We whispered a prayer together quietly and then we lay there waiting. I don't know for what. It was interesting that we both had the same feeling independent of the other person. When he first asked me to come to our room and expressed his feelings I didn't question him or press him on it because I was feeling the same way.

It was as if he was doing everything he could to put as many barriers between his family and whatever danger existed, real or not. He was terrified. We both felt that our family was in danger and we did everything we could think of to protect ourselves and be ready. We had our phones nearby, Braden had a weapon by his bed, and we lay ready and waiting. Now neither of us feel like this experience was a divine prompting-it came with no instruction, no peace, no clarity. Rather we feel it was an opposite power. It was overwhelmingly terrifying.

So here's the question I'm asking myself: are we, as parents, doing everything we can to create barriers from the world for our family, so that when danger appears suddenly, they are safe. Are we doing the things that create insulation from the darkness of the world, like family prayer, scripture study, Family home evening? Do we listen to songs that are uplifting, do we live in such a way that the Spirit dwells tangibly in our home? The scary thing, is that the answer to those questions is mostly yes. That scares me because as I reflect back on the absolute consuming darkness I felt that night the thought in my mind is, "it's not enough". We can do more. We can do better. We have to. These little girls are counting on us to keep them safe and teach them well. This is no time for casual commandment keeping, especially as it pertains to our children and families.

I have impressed upon my mind the danger we perceived for our family that night. I also have a deep sense that we are to fortify our home with every good thing we can give them, because the world is eager to give them something different. I feel that strongly. I pray Braden and I work together in our lives to figuratively build those barriers and provide that protection.

the strange small people in my house...

This one meticulously bites aquatic life molds out of her breakfast. "Look, Mom" she says, "A seahorse!!"...




...and this one could stroke her hair with her toes if she so desired- while sleeping no less



In answering her questions about seahorses, I did a little research & found out how truly fascinating they are. The males get pregnant and give birth! Maybe I was absent (minded) the day they taught that in third grade. Oh well, I appreciate the full meaning of that a lot more now anyway....check this out

Land That I Love