A Conversation With the 17-Year-Old Boy About Service

After a very hectic evening, John being out of town, I noticed that the 17-year-old boy, of his own accord, having donned his black jacket and beanie, was taking the rolling wood carrier outside and bringing it back, filled with wood, to fill up all the fireplace wood holders. We heat our home with 4 wood-burning stoves..

....so this is no small task. The fact that he did this was remarkable, because every other night, I usually ask one teenager to each bring in a load of wood, and I bring in one myself. No matter how cold it is outside, no one EVER does it on their own, without my prompting. Sometimes I would just like to see how long they would go before they got cold enough to bring in wood without being asked. I don't perform this experiment, however, because of the 3 little ones who spend most of their time close to the floor, where it's colder.

And not only did the 17-year-old boy bring in four loads of wood, he made fires in each of the fireplaces, again, without being asked. I was so exceedingly grateful for these gestures, these acts of willing service, that I decided to do the two sink-fulls of dishes which were waiting for him, as is his chore every evening for the month of January. Lest you wonder what the other kids do to help in the kitchen, here is the breakdown...

The 14-year-old girl: counters and lower island
The 13-year-old boy: dinner helper and dishwasher unloader
The 9-year-old boy: pick up everything off the floor and straighten up the couch area we recently set up in the kitchen
The 7-year-old girl: wipe down the high chairs and clean the top part of the island
The 3-year-old boy: pick up ten things on the kitchen floor
The 39-year-old mom: sweep

As I was nearly finished with the dishes, I turned my head back towards him where he was stoking a fireplace and said...

Me: 17-year-old boy, because I am so very grateful for the fact that you got all this wood and made all these fires without me having to ask you, I have done your dishes for you.

17-year-old boy: Yeah, I so knew you would do that. I totally read you like a book.

Me: Oh, so you knew I would do your dishes and you figured that you would rather do the wood then the dishes, huh?

17-year-old boy: Yep, pretty much.

Me: Well, what if I hadn't decided to do your dishes? Then you would have just had to enjoy the blessings from above for your work of service.

17-year-old boy: Yeah, so I win either way.

Oh....My.....Gosh. Is one of my kids actually internalizing what it means to serve? This was honestly a momentous occasion, and that is why I am sharing it with you today. Thanks for listening. :)

A Memory: An 8-Year-Old Boy's Questions About His Father's Suicide, by a Fireplace

The following is probably one of my most tender, yet heart-wrenching memories during the days that immediately followed my first husband’s suicide. I was torn as to whether or not I should write it here, but because I have been wanting to record this event since it occurred, and I have this forum in which to do it, I thought perhaps it might not only help me, but someone else who has experienced loss as well...

This is the family I was born into (photo taken 14 months ago)…

This is what I will call my family members…

On a chilly fall morning, as I had just returned from taking the 15-year-old girl to the bus stop, I had found my husband’s body a little before 7 o’ clock AM. A few details about that are HERE, so I won’t repeat them in this post. That day, my three sisters, my brother and my husband’s father arrived into town after having found out what had happened. At the time, my husband, myself and our six children had been living with my parents in their home, as a result of the events that lead up to my husband’s suicide. I know that statement is ambiguous, but I cannot give more details about why he committed suicide than that.

As each of my family members arrived into town, they placed their belongings in any room that would hold them, or by the particular sofa on which they would sleep. I really don’t remember too much of what happened that day. There were visits from military officials, tray after disposable tray of food brought from compassionate friends and church members, trips to the store, for I don’t remember what. As the evening fell and the last of the visitors departed, we began making preparations for bed. My husband and I had been sleeping in what my mother calls the “jungle” room, as it is decorated with palm fronds, pineapples and neutral and moss green linens and wall paper. This night, however, I knew there was no way I could sleep alone in my bed. I had a terrible fear that I would wake up in the middle of the night, forget my husband was dead, then be shocked into a spiral of incomprehensible pain once the realization struck again.

So, we moved a queen-sized air mattress into the living room, by the fireplace. There are two sofas in my mother’s living room, each of which would be occupied for the night by one of my siblings. We all stayed up talking, even the kids, until late into the night. As our conversation dwindled down, it became clear that none of my other family members wanted to sleep in their usual rooms either. No one, except my father, who spent most of the next two weeks in his bedroom, I believe because he couldn’t stop crying and was embarrassed, made a move to go to bed, not even my mother. And I didn’t want to ask my kids to leave. So we got out more air mattresses, thick blankets and pillows and made room for every single person in my family to sleep together in my mother’s living room. I even moved the 2-year-old girl’s playpen in so she could be with us.

We finally turned off the lamps, placed a few thick logs into the fireplace, and quieted. A few minutes later, in the dark, with only the glow of the fire penetrating the night, I saw the form of the 8-year-old boy sit up. The 8-year-old boy is currently the 13-year-old boy, but for the purposes of this post, I will call him the 8-year-old boy. Here is a photo of him last year in Mazatlan when he was the 12-year-old boy…

(photo not available)

“Mom?” he whispered, trying not to wake those who, obvious by the sound of their breathing, were already asleep.

“Yes, Son?”

He hesitated, then continued. “Mom, did Dad know that there was poison gas in his truck?”

That morning, as my father, my brother and I had stood in the street, a few feet away from my husband’s lifeless, sheet-covered body, police detectives slowly walking around with clipboards, EMTs rolling up defibrillator cords and zipping up black leather bags, the entire block having been cordoned off by police tape, I had had time to think. I had decided that there would be no secrets, that I would tell the children the truth of what their father had done. Lies were what had contributed to his suicide and lies would play no part in explaining to the kids what had happened. My father, however, had felt differently. While we stood in the street, he had pleaded with me that I not tell them that he had taken his own life, but that I should tell them it was an accident. I denied his pleas, saying that truth would prevail in all that happened from here on out and that I would absolutely not live a lie for the rest of my life. As I turned to walk away, my father grabbed my arm to turn me back to him and with tears in his red eyes, begged me again to withhold the truth from them, suggesting a story I could use. I could say that their father had not been able to sleep that night, so he went out to his truck to read a book, so as not to wake me and the baby. He had gotten cold, as it was November, so he had lit two charcoal grills in the bed of his campered pick-up truck, which opened up to the cab, to keep himself warm. He had then become tired, fallen asleep, and was overcome by the fumes, dying quietly in his sleep.

I was amazed at the speed and ease with which my father had fabricated this somewhat believable story. But how could I tell this to my children, and maintain it for the rest of their lives? Impossible. I gently pulled my arm out of his grip and restated that I would be telling the kids the truth.

I asked the 8-year-old boy to come sit next to me on the air mattress. Pausing for a moment to pull my thoughts together, and saying a brief prayer, I answered. “Yes, 8-year-old boy, he did know there was poison gas in the truck.”

He thought for a moment, then asked, “Well, then why didn’t he get out of the truck?”

After pausing to make sure this was right, I answered, “Because he wanted to die.”

My natural voice is low and mellow, and in soft tones I went on to explain that he had been very, very sad and that he wanted to die so he wouldn’t be sad anymore. I said that his mind was sick and he couldn’t think right. I explained how we all wished he had not done this, that we were all so sad and that Heavenly Father was sad, too, and that we all wished he would have talked to someone about why he was sad so we could have helped him. I reminded him that his dad loved him very much, as he had said in the good-bye letters he had written to each individual child. I said that we would see him again one day, and even though it seemed really far away, that was something we could look forward to.

As I softly spoke these words, the only sounds we could hear were the crackling of the fireplace, the deep breathing of those who were already asleep, and the quiet cries and sobs of my mother, my sister with the 4 kids and my sister with the Ph.D. as they listened to our conversation.

The 8-year-old boy did not have any more questions at that time, but as understanding began to sink in, he began to cry softly also. I held him tight, and rubbed his hair until he was comforted and wanted to go to sleep. He walked the few feet back to the couch and in a few minutes, I could hear his deep breathing as well.

My family and I slept this way for the next two nights, all of us in the living room, falling asleep to the sound of the crackling fire. Eventually, I did sleep in my own bed, but not without the company of the sister with the Ph.D. until she had to fly back to California. Along with The Lord, my family was my rock and I never would have gotten through this ordeal without them by my side. Most of them will probably not read this, but for those who do, please know that I will NEVER, EVER forget how you were there for me. I love you guys.

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Homemaker Monday: To Live in the Present or To Look to the Future?

This Homemaker Monday post is in progress. Thank you for your patience!~

I’ve recently read various articles about “living in the moment” and “finding joy in the journey”. While I whole-heartedly agree that learning to do this as a homemaker and wife is crucial, I have found that there are just stages of life where I really do have to look forward to the future in order to get through what life is throwing me at that particular moment. Perhaps if I were better at “finding joy in the journey” I wouldn’t have to look forward to the future so often, but that seems to be what works for me.
I’d like to share with you a few times in my life where I have had to look to the future to help me live in the present.

1. When I decided that giving birth naturally was the most healthy thing for me and my baby, as I went through labor (and mine are anywhere from 20 to 51 hours long), some thoughts went through my mind such as A.) Each contraction is getting me closer to meeting my baby, B.) If I can get through this, I won’t have to have an epidural, a catheter, perhaps even pitocin as epidurals often cause labor to slow down, C.) If I can continue through labor, my body will continue to release dopamine and seratonin as a way of fighting against the pain, hormones that are also released into the baby’s bloodstream and which cause a natural high that helps in the bonding process of mother and child, D.) If I do this naturally, I will be able to get up and walk a few minutes after delivering rather than a few hours, as with an epidural, and my healing time will be much faster, E.) I will not be risking any of the side effects of an epidural, such as headaches, which my mother experienced for 3 weeks, temporary or permanent paralysis, or partial feeling, such as only feeling labor pains on one side. For me, going through labor required A LOT of looking to the future! Anyone figured out how to live in the moment for that one? If so, let me know! :)

2. After my first husband committed suicide, I didn’t know how I would get from one day to the next. So, I didn’t get from one day to the next. I got from one hour to the next. I was having trouble reliving the moment I found him over and over and over again in my mind, and as the days went on, I tried to go for one hour without thinking about that. But you know how it is when you try not to think about something. You think about it! During the first five weeks after his death, I don’t think I went for an hour without thinking about how I found him, but I do remember one thought process that gave me hope. I thought, “you know, it’s only been five weeks since his death. I know that in five months, I will feel better than I do now”. How much better I didn’t know, but I knew I would feel better. Then I said, “and in five years, I know I will feel much better. There is a remote chance that I’ll even be remarried to a wonderful man and be living a completely new and different life.” These thoughts helped me get through the excruitiating present I was enduring. As most of you know, at the five month mark I was dating and had fallen in love with my current husband. This November will be 5-year mark since my first husband died, and certainly it is still sad to think back on that dark time, but I have come to terms with what happened and have learned to control my thoughts and appreciate what I have now. I can testify that time does heal wounds. Yes, there are sometimes scars, but we can heal.

3. During the six months when I was exlusively breastfeeding the twins, the process took nearly eight out of the twenty-four hours in a day. Housework went down the tube, dinners were often sandwiches or sometimes even cereal, going ANYWHERE without toting the two babies was unthinkinable, and having time to do a project or something fun for myself was unfathomable. It was during this time that I did a lot of math regarding how long I thought I would live and what percentage of that time would be spent giving the twins what was healthiest for them. I hope to live to be at least 80 years old, so six months out of 80 years turned out to be only a little more than one half % of my life. I could do this! After the six months was over, other people could begin to take over feedings and I would be able to clean out a cupboard if I wanted to, or go to the temple or maybe even watch a movie uninterrupted! I told myself these things over and over again, and before I knew it, the twins were eating solid foods and my life had gotten a tiny bit easier.

Now that he twins are 18 months old, and although I am still crazy busy chasing after them day by day, I can look back on the grueling first year with a good feeling knowing that I did what I thought was best for them and now we are over the hump. I still breastfeed them, but only twice a day, once at nap time and once right before bed. I've gone to the temple, I've watch movies uninterrupted, and soon, very soon, I'm going to start sewing aprons....and giving them away. Yes, I'm going to be cool like Kathlene over at Grosgrain. I'll let you know when I get one finished. I'm even tentatively planning an overnight stay in October away from them, so the future to which I so looked forward is finally here!

OURS: Okay, I can't wait to see what all of you amazing homemakers have for us today. Thanks for spending time with us today and if you'd like to participate in Homemaker Monday but don't have a post ready, please feel free to dig through your archives for your favorite recipe of any other homemaking tip or experience and link up! Thank you!



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Death and Tandem Nursing: A 3-Year-Old's Perspective

Conversation #1: (At random, in the kitchen.)

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: Mom, am I going to die?

ME: Well, yes, 3-year-old boy. We are all going to die someday, but not for a really long time.

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: You mean you and dad are going to die?!?

ME: Yes, but when we're really old. ]

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: You mean I'm not going to have a mom and dad?!?

ME: 3-year-old boy, we are all going to die one day, but me and Daddy aren't going to die until you are really old, too, and have lots of kids of your own.

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: But, I don't want to die. (putting his head, face-down, on my knee)

ME: 3-year-old boy, do you know what dying is?

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: Yeah, it's OBNOXIOUS!

(That's one way to put it.)


Conversation #2: (As the 3-year-old boy was watching me trying a new twin tandem nursing position during the 3 three and under's nap time.)

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: What da heck, Mom!

ME: What, 3-year-old boy?

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: Did you buy doze boobs?

ME: No, 3-year-old boy. I came with them.

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: Well what are dey for?

ME: They are so I can feed the babies.

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: Well you can just feed dem yogurt!

ME: Yes, well, sometimes they need my milk, too.

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: Why do dey?

ME: Because it's good for them.

3-YEAR-OLD BOY: Okay. Good night.

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Dear God, I Have 6 Questions For You, in No Particular Order of Importance

Dear God,

#1: Okay, let's start off with creation, something that's on my mind A LOT. What I was wondering is, why is it that every step in the process of creating children (well, except the first step, that step is pretty fun) is so exhausting/nauseating/hormonal/incredibly uncomfortable/excruciatingly painful? I know you have some really good reasons, I just don't get them and would like to, so just wondering.

#2. Why is it, that when babies are cutting new teeth, that they get fevers and runny noses? I just don't understand the correlation there. Again, I'm sure you have a great reason, I just don't comprehend it.

#3. Why is it that some people are born into the most abject of poverty-stricken situations, and can never rise above it, and some people are born into the lap of luxury and always remain there?

#4. Why is it that I have had the privilege of being born as a human being, in this day and age, in this country, where I am afforded an unbelievable amount of freedom, compared to women who have lived in other times and other places? And why wasn't I born as a dog? Or a praying mantis? Or a caveman...I mean woman? Anyways, thanks SOOOO much for that. I'm certainly not complaining, because I certainly would not want to be most of the dogs I know.

#5. During the time of "trials and tribulations", you know, right before your son Jesus Christ comes for the second time, are we going to have a long period of time without computers/internet access? It's just that I need to know, because if so, I need to start printing out all of my photos and put them in cute albums, instead of storing them on my hard drive, and I'll need to find something else to do with my spare time, because I spend a lot of it on the internet.

#6. Why did you make rainbows and music and flowers? Is it just because you love us and wanted to do something really nice for us, just for the sole purpose of making us happy? It seems like it, because those things really do. And thank you.

God, I don't know if you read blogs or have your numberless concourses of angels read them and report back for inappropriate content, but I DO know that you answer our prayers. Soooo, I guess what I need to do is to get down on my knees and start asking these questions if I really want the answers. Thanks for listening...God...and anyone else who is.


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A Glimpse of One Moment in Time

As I was folding clothes a few days ago, I began listening to the sounds of my children. None of them were within eye-shot, so I started wondering what they all were doing. As I walked toward the sounds of activity, the first thing I saw were the twins playing quietly together with a box of blocks in the entryway...


This scene enchanted me, probably because I had waited for moments like these for so long during the grueling first year, times when they would simply play together and enjoy each other's company without me having to be right by their sides. I wanted to save this moment on film, so I did, then I thought I would catch what every other child was doing at that exact moment in time and save it to the camera as well. Here's what I found...


This is the 9-year-old boy vacuuming fruit flies from off the peaches. His brother is apparently advising him. A few months ago I posted photos of how our family does fruit, depicting bowl after bowl of various produce on our island and a commentator asked how we dealt with fruit flies. Question answered.


This is the 3-year-old boy trying to vacuum the fruit flies as well, but he can't figure out why he isn't having as much success with his attachment as his brother is with his.


Here we have the 14-year-old girl making cabbage soup. We had received three cabbages from some friends earlier that day and she knew it would be wise to use them as soon as possible. She suggested that she make cabbage soup for dinner, I stated that I thought it was a fine idea, she googled a recipe, and here she is carrying out her well thought-out plan.

When it came to finding the 7-year-old girl. It took a while. I looked in her room, the game room, the front yard, the side yard, and finally I found her in the back yard. I called her name, but she couldn't hear me. As I got closer, I heard her singing her heart out to a favorite song on her shuffle while admiring her dad's gardening. It was pretty dang precious.


And here is what I was doing before being distracted by wanting to document a moment in time...


P.S. If you're wondering where the other three children were, the 20-year-old girl lives on her own, and I actually tried to call her to see what she was doing, but couldn't reach her, the 17-year-old boy is in Alaska with his uncle and the 12-year-old boy was in scout camp!

P.P.S. Sorry about the bright window lighting in almost every photo!

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Angie hosts "Wordful Wednesday" for those of us who don't like to keep our mouths shut for Wordless Wednesday. It's totally fun!

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My Testimony of Jesus Christ

Testimony Tab:

This is my testimony of Jesus Christ.


I, as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, believe that Jesus Christ was not only an inspirational leader and teacher, but that He was The Only Begotten Son of The Father, born to the virgin Mary. I believe that He was fore-ordained from the beginning of time to be The Savior of all mankind, and were it not for the fact that He payed for all of our sins in the Garden of Gethsemane, we would remain filthy and be denied the opportunity of living with a perfect God in Heaven. How grateful I am to him for the example He set during his soujourn here on Earth and for the suffering He endured for our sakes.

During His time on Earth, Jesus Christ set up His church with His twelve disciples. We can learn about how it was organized in the New Testament. Tragically, however, He, along with all of His disciples were murdered. Paul and others tried to carry on the church the way it was intended, but eventually, it was dissolved and the world went into a self-imposed apostacy.

In the spring of 1820, a 14-year-old boy named Joseph Smith Jr. went to The Bible with a question in his heart. He wondered which of all the churches were right, and when he read James 1:5, which states, "If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him", he decided to act. Seeking an answer to his burning question, Joseph went into a quiet grove of trees to pray to God, The Father. While he was in the midst of his prayer, he saw a pillar of light, brighter than the noonday sun, and descending from it were God, The Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.


God introduced His Son to Joseph Smith by addressing Joseph and saying, "This is My Beloved Son. Hear him." Joseph Smith was then told that none of the churches were right and that he should join none of them, but that he would do a work among the children of men and restore the Gospel of Jesus Christ that had been taken away so many hundreds of years before. Over the next four years, Joseph Smith received a number of Heavenly visitations and instructions of the things which he should do. One of the things he was told to do was to retrieve a set of gold plates on which scripture was written by prophets long ago on the American continent. Joseph Smith retrieved these plates, and with the help of his wife and a man named Oliver Cowdrey, he translated the writings on these plates into a book called The Book of Mormon, named after the prophet who compiled and abridged the writings during his time on Earth between 300 and 400 A.D.

Since the publication of The Book of Mormon, over 13.5 million people on Earth have been introduced to it's message and have accepted it as the word of God. We 13.5 million people believe in Joseph Smith's vision and that God has restored his original church in this day and age and that it is led by a prophet, like Moses, Abraham or Isaiah, who communes with and speaks for God.

I believe that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the one and only true church on the face of the earth and that mankind can find the ultimate happiness by abiding by its teachings and precepts. I believe that marriage continues after death, through all eternity, and not just "until death do we part", thus enabling families to be "sealed" together forever.

I am so thankful that I have the true gospel in my life and that we have a living prophet who communes with the Savior. I am also grateful that I know God lives and knows the hearts of each and every one of us and can and will guide us in our personal lives if we will but ask of Him and be faithful to His commandments.

I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

(To learn more about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, click HERE.)

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An Extended Breastfeeding Post

Yes, I'm still breastfeeding the twins. They are nearly 18 months old, and I'm still nursing. Extended breastfeeding is gaining more and more acceptance as time goes by, and I actually receive very few negative comments from well-meaning friends, aquaintances, and those in the medical profession. In fact, as I've been taking care of a few minor medical problems over the past two weeks and have had the opportunity to interact with various capable medical doctors, 100 percent of them have applauded my decision to continue breastfeeding this long. Truly, times are changing.

The twins have decreased their nursing sessions to only at night and right before they take their naps. During the middle-of-the night feedings, they often like to linger long after they have had their nutritional needs fulfilled. And sometimes, just sometimes, I need them to stop and try to get back to sleep. So....I've been trying to find a way to communicate to them that the session is completed. I've come up with...ready for this?... "All done." Ground-breaking, I know.

What's interesting is that they have learned, as, in the beginning, I'd unlatched them each time I said "All done", to unlatch themselves when the hear those words. It's actually an amazing thing to witness, that they will willingly finish their breastfeeding session just because I ask them to.

Last night, at about 3:00 in the morning, Joseph woke up for a feeding. After I knew he had had his fill, I said, "All done", and he released, rolled over, leaned his back against my chest and instantly went back to sleep. As I lay in the still of the night with my cheek against his soft hair, and my arm around his warm little body, I was so happy I'd made the decision to continue to breastfeed this long. It's a new experience for me, to be able to interact with my baby about the process and I'm finding it's a wonderful way to continue to bond into the toddler year. I can now understand why the world average for breastfeeding is 4.2 years. Why offer my babies another animal's milk when I can continue to provide nourishment and love in this manner myself, for many months to come? True, I can no longer nurse in public anymore, as the twins insist on playing with my shirt and pulling it as high up on my chest as possible, but for now, we are all going to continue this most intimate of mother/child interactions as long as we both feel comfortable.

Some say, "If a kid is old enough to ask for it, he's too old to breastfeed." I say, what a wonderful way to connect with your child by interacting and communicating about this special bond God has created for mothers and children. I say...bring it on.


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To speak of my faith during the greatest difficulty of my life...

Today I feel compelled to post this talk I gave over four years ago during a church conference for the adult members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (The Mormons) in our area. I was asked to speak on faith and the conference was to take place only seven and a half weeks after my first husband passed away. Some details, such as my place of birth and my full name, have been omitted.

January 2005....

"Good evening, Brothers and Sisters. My name is Jennifer ___ and I feel very humble and grateful to have been asked to speak to you tonight. The theme of tonight’s conference is Building Faith and Spiritual Reliance. Now I have to tell you that I have been preparing for this talk for about four weeks now, and last night I decided to practice saying it out loud after my children went to bed. I share a room with my two-year-old daughter, and since she hadn’t fallen asleep yet, I thought that my soothing voice would lull her to sleep. Instead, she sat up in her bed and said, “Mama, be quiet please.” I finally was able to practice in my car before I came here, so, believe me, I did try! Before I get to tonight’s theme, I need to give you a brief summary of my life up until this point so that you will know where I’m coming from.

I was born here in ______ in 19--. I had a loving, fun-filled childhood with three younger sisters and one younger brother. When I was 18 years old, I met and fell in love with a soldier in the United States Army. We married and a few months later welcomed our first child, Bethany, into the world. We were then stationed in Germany, where Rob got his first call to overseas duty during the aftermath of Desert Storm. After a long deployment, Rob returned and several months later, our second child, Conor, was born. We were then sent to Fort Polk, Louisiana, where Rob was, again, sent overseas for a period of five months. Several months after his return, we welcomed our third child, Kyla, into our world. We were then stationed back here in ________. Our fourth child, Reid, was born seven months later. When Reid was nine months old, however, Rob was again sent to Southwest Asia for five months. Upon his return, we had about two years of uninterrupted time together, but it wasn’t to last long, as he was again asked to serve another tour of duty in Southwest Asia. Several months after his return, we gave birth to a son, our fifth child, Landon. When Landon was three weeks old, Rob left on an unaccompanied tour to South Korea for a year. Again, several months after his return, we welcomed our sixth child, Claire, into the world.

As you can imagine, Rob and I and our little military family have had many adventures. We’ve had the trials that a marriage and children can often bring coupled with long separations from each other, but we’ve also had huge growth opportunities that I wouldn’t trade for anything. Our love and appreciation for each other was always intensified by separation, and looking back on the sixteen years that we’ve had together, we’ve had a full life, with definitely more good times than not.

It’s with a heavy heart, but also a feeling of deep gratitude to Heavenly Father for the time Rob and I had together, that I share with you that seven weeks and six days ago, due to a series of unforeseeable, unusual, and tragic events, my husband, best friend and father of our six beautiful children committed suicide.

I know that it is shocking to hear those two words uttered, especially from this pulpit, but because we are in the adult session of conference, I felt comfortable speaking freely with you so that you can have a clear picture of how the Lord has worked in my life through the faith I have in him.

Many of us have read Alma 32 in the Book of Mormon. This chapter is a wonderful lesson on faith and how to build and grow faith. During my preparation for this talk, although I had read this chapter many, many times, I felt compelled to pore over it many more times and I would like to share with you some of the things that stood out to me as I’ve begun to try to rebuild my world.

First of all, I need to remind you what faith is not: Alma teaches us in his 32nd chapter of the Book of Mormon that, “-faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things.” That struck me as so important because there are many times when we may have doubts about spiritual matters, but we can still have faith because our knowledge does not have to be perfect.
Alma teaches us that this it the definition of faith: “Therefore, if ye have faith, ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true.” In a world where God is sometimes feared, we can have assurance that He is a loving, compassionate God who only requires the very simple act of HOPE on our part, in order to work in our lives.

In the New Testament, there is a beautiful story of a father who brought his son to Jesus to heal. This son had had many ailments since he was a young child and his father was greatly tormented by this. He said to Jesus, “-if Thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and help us.” Just his request alone was obviously an act of faith. This was the Lord’s response: ”If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.” Listen now, to the desperate father’s response as he cried out with tears, saying, “Lord, I believe. Help Thou mine unbelief.” And because of his faith, his son was healed in front of the multitude. What I love about this example is that all we need to have the Lord work in our lives is a desire to believe. This father humbly admitted that while he believed Jesus could heal his son, there was a portion of him that didn’t believe and he asked the Lord to help his “unbelief”. The Lord has said in many writings, “Ask, and ye shall receive. Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” I can’t imagine a more noble request than to ask Heavenly Father to help our unbelief. I KNOW He will answer us every single time we ask this of Him.

I would like to count some of the ways my faith in the Lord, Jesus Christ and the Atonement has helped me and my children to get through this very difficult time in our lives. I do this in the hopes that, if you haven’t done so already, that you might begin to spiritually prepare yourselves for things to come in your lives.

There are so many things that I wanted to say to you this evening and when I first wrote out my talk, it was twice as long as the time I was allowed, so I had to chop out so many things I wanted to tell you about what The Lord has done in my life. I think one of the most important things I can speak about is the comfort I feel having faith that the Lord has known all the days of my life that I would experience this and that He has been by my side in so many ways preparing me. When I first shared the summary of my life with you, you might have thought that I was given a difficult lot having to go through so many military deployments with so many children. At the time I went through them, I felt the same way and I often wondered why my life seemed so much harder than the average wife’s. I now know what a blessing it was that I learned how to take care of such a large family on my own and I learned many years ago what loneliness felt like and how to deal with it. We sometimes don’t know how our daily hardships can prepare us for future events in our lives of which only God is aware.

Heavenly Father also gave me a very special gift only two months before Rob died. I would like to share this experience with you. In March of last year, my mother had given me a book about a Christian missionary husband and wife couple that was abducted by Al Qaeda terrorists in the Philippines. For various reasons, I wasn’t able to pick it up right then, and actually didn't start reading it until the end of September, some six months after my mother had given it to me. Once I started, I couldn’t put it down. This missionary wife was much like myself. She home schooled her children like I do, went on many adventures with her husband and was very independent. When she and her husband were vacationing in a Philippine resort, they were kidnapped by terrorists and forced to spend a year in the jungles of the Philippines as their captors tried to evade capture by the government. Their story was truly inspiring as the wife, Gracia, wrote how they had befriended their captors and had tried to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with them. Theirs was an amazing story of love, forgiveness and the power that faith in the Lord can have in one’s life. Tragically, however, after a year of being forced to follow their captors through the jungle, in a rescue attempt by the Philippine government, Gracia’s husband, Martin, was shot and killed. She was rescued, but had to face the prospect of a life without the one she loved most in the world. As I read her account of how she told her children what had happened to their father, how she helped her children say good-bye and how strong she was, I sobbed like I never have before during the reading of any other book. I cried for many days afterwards every time I thought about it and cried when I shared the story with my husband. I was puzzled that I would have such a connection to this family and feel such emotion, because I have read many books that were much more tragic than this. I now know why. I now know that I was to follow Gracia’s example of how to honestly tell our children what happened to their father and how to help them deal with the funeral and say goodbye to their dad. It was like God gave me an instruction manual on how to deal with a crushing event like this. Perhaps nothing, besides prayer and scripture study, prepared me more for the initial few days after Rob’s death than did this book. My faith in the Lord has helped me to realize that this was not a random coincidence in the time-space continuum, but that the Lord placed the book in my hands when he did as a specific road map on how to help my children deal with the death of their father. I will never forget this Heavenly gift and I will always cherish it in my heart.

Now that I’ve shared with you how my Faith in The Lord has helped me, let me share with you the steps that one might take to build faith.

The first step that I would like to discuss with you is the way that our thoughts roam around in our heads. We all know that the best way for the Lord to communicate with us and to act in our lives is through a pure heart. When we carry around feelings of bitterness, anger, pessimism, distrust and resentment, we cannot be an effective conduit through which the Spirit of the Lord can flow. I would like to share with you a parable, the parable of the shopvac. Some of you in Hondo Pass Ward have heard this parable, so please bear with me. As you already know, I have six children. In turn, my floors are often in need of serious attention. I have discovered that a using a shopvac is the best way to clean Cheerios, dog hair, dirt, and cheese all at the same time. This is something I use every day. One day, I noticed that my shopvac wasn’t picking up as well as it used to. There was a very gradual, almost imperceptible decline in the performance level that had finally gotten to be so bad that the vacuum was practically useless. I realized that the filter was clogged with months of grime that I would need to remove. This was during the time that Rob was in Korea and I had five small children and I just didn’t feel like loading them all up and going to the store for a new filter. So, I decided to simply remove the filter and bang it as hard as I could on the side of my house. After some pretty brutal banging and an asthma attack because the exertion and the dust, I found that I could replace the filter in the vacuum and it would function just like new. May I compare this to what can happen when we let negativity into our heads? Sometimes, our negative thoughts have come in and piled up so gradually into our minds, that we don’t even realize the fact that they are blocking inspiration and guidance by the Holy Spirit. We truly cannot be effective Latter-Day Saints if we continue to allow these waste products to cloud our minds. Sometimes, we become so dysfunctional, that it takes a good banging against a wall to rid us our of negativity. That is never any fun, and we can avoid it by willingly forgiving those who we might have thought have trespassed against us. I wouldn’t stand up here and ask you to do something that I haven’t done and I want you to know, that during the last four weeks as I have prepared this talk, as I have been able to forgive those whom I had thought had transgressed against me, I have experienced a peace and a clarity of mind that is unbelievable. I know that as I have done this, my mind has had room to dwell on the more beautiful things of life and it is wonderful.

The second step to building faith is the next standard primary answer: Scripture study:
Something occurred to me a few years ago about scripture study as I was doing some woodworking. I was using a circular saw and it slipped and hit my wedding ring. Fortunately, it made only a very small nick in it and can hardly be seen. Later, as I was reading my Book of Mormon, I recalled that that very book was written on gold plates. When I thought about the power it took to put the little tiny nick in my ring, and then when I thought about all of the physical and mental effort it must have taken to compile these writings, it was completely overwhelming. It gave me such a sincere appreciation for how important it was for us to have these writings. It made me wonder how I could have ever gone a day with doing scripture study. Our Heavenly Father, in all of his wisdom, went to great lengths to provide us with a blueprint of how we should live our lives to be able to receive happiness in this life and the next. If we cannot find the time to take advantage of this wonderful gift, then we will truly be missing out on so many sweet blessings in life. I can truly testify that reading our scriptures daily WILL improve our lives. More time in the day will appear, more patience in our voices will sound as we raise our children, more love will show in our countenance as we interact with our fellow human beings, and a more desire will develop in our hearts to be obedient to our Heavenly Father. I have a strong testimony of how scripture study benefits our lives.

The last step is the standard primary answer to almost any question asked of our children: Prayer. I would like to suggest to you one very simple act of faith that you can go home tonight and perform. Get down on your knees and pray to Heavenly Father in the name of Jesus Christ. The act of getting on your knees is a true act of faith. Most people wouldn’t willing forego the comfort of their bed to kneel on the hard, cold floor unless they had some hope that there was someone listening to them. You will be rewarded for this simple act of faith. Let’s talk about how we pray. As I’ve reflected on what some of my prayers may have sounded like to our Heavenly Father, I realized that many of my daily prayers have had this repeated kind of blanket thanks for everything, and then quite a few requests for blessings. As I’ve become more acquainted with prayer, I’ve realized that there is so much more to it than that. I would like to read a quote by Gordon B. Hinckley that definitely enlightened me as I read it.

He says, ”We need to build ourselves spiritually. We live in a world of rush and go, of running here and there and in every direction. We are very busy people. We have so much to do. We need to get off by ourselves spiritually. Get by yourself and think of things of the Lord, of things of the Spirit. Think of the things of God. Just meditate and reflect for an hour about yourself and your relationship to your Heavenly Father and your Redeemer. It will do something for you.”

That is so beautiful. How different is this idea of communion with the Lord than perhaps our daily, routine interactions? Our prophet spoke of reflecting for an hour on the things of the Lord. I truly believe that all of us can find the time to do this on a regular basis. If we do, we can know that everything else will fall into place in our lives just as the Lord would have it.

Something else I’ve recently been enjoying very much when I pray is to just start listing, very specifically, all of the ways that God has blessed me and to thank him for it. During this very difficult time for our family, as I’ve reflected on the hundreds of kind gestures and sacrifices that have been made for us, I am able to spend many hours in prayer on my knees listing all of the people and events that I am grateful for. Sometimes I don’t even feel the need to ask for anything from Heavenly Father after doing this because I don’t fell like I even need anything. He has given me such an abundance of blessings that I have cried many, many more tears of gratitude and joy than I have of sorrow. The Lord is such a loving Father.

I want to leave you with my simple testimony. I know that Jesus Christ lives. I know that he is the Redeemer of the world and can save all mankind from their sins. I know that we can live with God again with our families, our families being the most important unit in the universe. I am so grateful that I have been given the opportunity to speak to all of you today and my only wish is that I have inspired or helped someone to make an effort to build their faith in Jesus Christ. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen."

I am pleased to list this post @ Cielo's "Hopeful Friday."


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Wordless Wednesday: Come See the Light, Brother

Isaiah 2:5 O house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of The Lord.

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Have you ever wanted to be a vegetarian or vegan, but didn't think you had the will power to do it? So did I...

Here's why becoming a vegan...



Have ever you thought that being a vegetarian or a vegan sounded like a cool idea, but didn't think you would ever have the will power to go through with it? So did I. When I first heard the term vegan seven years ago, I couldn't possibly imagine ever having the capacity to make such a change. I knew there would be benefits, such as being like all the stick-thin vegans I have ever known, but I just couldn't give up my milk and cookies. On a side note, when I tell people I'm vegan, it's a little bit embarrassing because I am definitely NOT stick-thin and don't very well fit the "vegan" image. They probably walk away thinking, "Hmmm, she doesn't look like a vegan." Well, I hope time will tell, but truthfully, weight lost was only a pleasant side effect of my decision to make this life-style change. The change first came about when I received this book from my daughter...


I really didn't want to read this book, but I did it for my daughter in exchange for her reading a book I wanted her to read. It's fun to trade like that. This book discusses how a plant-based diet is beneficial in three ways: it enables the ethical treatment of animals, it's the healthiest way to eat, and it is the number one thing one can do to help the environment.

The first section discussed what goes on in the behemoth factory farms throughout The United States. My stomach hurt through most of the reading of this section and that was when I first began to wonder if I might be able to abstain from eating meat as a way of not supporting this ghastly abuse of God's creatures. I read the book for a few days more before I decided I would stop eating meat. I hadn't finished the book yet, but I had learned enough to change my mind about the merits of consuming animal carcasses for dinner. I went on to finish the book and felt like a new world of information had opened up to me. However, this book was published nearly 20 years ago, and I felt like the studies cited weren't recent enough and that I would need to do much further study.

This was when my true education began. During my breastfeeding hours (between four and six hours a day) I googled everything I could think of about being vegetarian. At the beginning of this process I had decided that I would continue to consume dairy products and eggs as they were coming from our own livestock, who I knew were being treated fairly. However, as I continued to learn, I began to feel that perhaps giving up diary and eggs was the way to go. It seemed so difficult, though, as I was truly a milk lover, but I thought, you know what? I am going to go for one day being a vegan, just to see how hard it is. I prepared by making a batch of almond milk and making sure I had lots of fresh fruits, veggies, nuts and seeds on hand and I realized it wasn't so bad. The next day I thought I might try it again, then I went the whole week without consuming dairy or eggs. I soon began to realize that I could be perfectly happy drinking almond milk with my PB&J's and I could live without melting cheese all over everything. It felt good and it felt right.

The "nail in the coffin" so to speak came when I was given the following book for my birthday two weeks ago...


"The China Study" is the most comprehensive study on nutrition every done and I devoured the book. It is written by one of the most experienced nutrition specialists in our country, a man who worked in the top levels of the U.S. government in the food and nutrition institutions. Over the years, however, he became disillusioned with the perverse effect corporations had on government policies, corporations such as the meat and dairy industries and the huge pharmaceutical companies. As I read this book, it made perfect sense and it cemented my desire to no longer consume animal products of any kind. Dr. Colin Campbell also offers some very helpful advice for those who would like to try a plant-based diet. He says that by consuming a plant-based diet, you will be introduced to the "new" food groups. These are...


Viewing food this way has opened a whole new world of food preparation to me. Instead of a diet consisting of salad and birdseed, a diet on which I thought most vegans subsisted, I am able to enjoy so many things I never even knew exsisted. Things such as various nut milk, nut cheeses, raw confections, "pasta" made of zuchini and squash, whole grain cereals and snacks and so many other healthy foods. I used to have a love/hate relationship with my food, loving to put it in my mouth, but feeling guilty about all the fat, sugar and additives in it. I almost always felt guilty after eating. Now, I love my food, I love how it makes me feel and I know I am eating the most healthy things my body needs. And the pounds of fat are dropping off at a rate of about two pounds per week, so my body is thanking me! To me, preparing delicious meals and snacks has been the key to successfully integrating the vegan way of thinking into my life. If you are interested, a couple of great recipe and technique books you might want to try are...



So there you have it. I was certainly the last person anyone thought would ever seek after this lifestyle change, but after trying and seeing the results, i.e. losing weight each week, alleviation of various health problems and an overall sense of well-being, I'm not going back any time soon! If you've ever wanted to be a vegan or vegetarian but thought you lacked the motivation, leave me a comment and let's talk!

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Could My Life Be Getting Easier?

I think so. I never thought I'd get to this point, but I think it's finally here. I've noticed that recently, the twins have begun to very much enjoy each other's company. They seem to be content, especially in the morning, to play for long periods of time in the living room by themselves as I work in the kitchen. A few things they really enjoy are the 250 ball collection my sister bought them for Christmas and a miniature house I purchased for them that is basically just a door that opens and closes with lots of switches that make lights and music. Hyrum has even started dancing, to accompany the five or six steps he takes at a time. It is always so strange to witness a child walk for the first time. We have been so used to them crawling around the floor like puppies, then suddenly they are on their feet and they seem so tall and big! The babies also enjoy a drum and a tamborine we had laying around, as well as a set of dominoes we recently unpacked. And guess what? They don't watch Finding Nemo anymore! Yes, it was great while it lasted, but I was really beginning to feel guilty, so I'm glad that they have come up with other things to occupy their little sponge minds.

Another thing that has seemed to simplify things in my life a bit is the fact that the babies can feed themselves now. Some of the finger foods they love are (by the way, Hyrum has two teeth, Joseph has four)...

-Cheerios (of course)
-Grapes cut in quarters
-Raisins
-Dates
-Crackers
-Scrambled eggs
-Mandarine oranges
-Peeled cucumbers
-Torn up pieces of toast
-Torn up pieces of PB&J
and their favorite...
-Sliced bananas

During their breakfast, as the kids get ready for school and finish up their morning chores, I am able to empty out the dishwashers and start cleaning up what's left of breakfast. After the kids leave, I wipe the babies down, take them for the diaper changes, make sure the toddler is happy, then I make my breakfast and take it into the living room to eat as I check my blog on the laptop John got for me for Christmas. I then apply my make-up (for why this is a necessary part of my day, click HERE) and get out of my robe into real clothes.

Today I had a lady who helps me out come over and she spent most of her time making about five dozen tortillas for our family. I was so thrilled to find out that she doesn't use shortening or lard in her tortillas, just vegetable oil. While she was rolling out the tortillas, I cut apart two fryers, seasoned them with butter, salt and pepper, and put them in the oven for lunch. Why, you may ask, if I am a vegetarian, am I cutting up fryers and baking them in the oven? The answer? I still happen to have a teenaged son who really likes meat and I don't feel that I can inflict my beliefs on him as far as this is concerned. Now, when we run out of meat, I don't know that I will have the wherewith all to actually purchase the products that support untold cruelties to animals, so I might just have to buy live chicks, raise them, then have the kids go through the process of butchering them so that they can get a realistic picture of where their meat comes from. Plus, we will treat our chickens well while they are alive, not like at the factory farms in the United States and other countries. But, I digress...

I also put together a simple salad and cut up several Asian pears. Are you familiar with those? If not, you must become so. They are some of the best fruit I have ever had. They are crisp, like an apple, but full of juice, like a water melon. Oh, they are good! It turns out that I must have been inspired to make such a large lunch as the five kids brought four friends home, so we had more than enough food to go around. During the last ten minutes before the kids had to go back to school, we did a mad dash cleaning spree so that I was only left with the sweeping and the high chairs once they were gone.

After I got the babies cleaned up from their lunch mess, I put Johnny down for his nap, then went into the living room to hang out with the twins again. They had already taken short naps during the morning hours, so I knew this would be relaxing time I could spend with the twins without having to see to the toddler's needs as well. I spent some time on the couch doing email, then I enjoyed poring over recipes in this book my daughter and her I-don't-know-what-he-is (friend? boyfriend? man?) gave me for Christmas...


For anyone interested in improving your diet, whether you are an carnivore, onmivore, or herbivore, you will LOVE this book! The photos are beautiful, the information is inspiring and the recipes will make you feel like a better person just for THINKING about making them!

After a while, the twins got fussy, so I tandem nursed them, something I'd stopped for a while, as they kept pulling each other's hair, and enjoyed the quiet of just sitting there looking at their angelic faces. Joseph, with his small face and serious expression and Hyrum, with his easy smile and touseled hair, so happy to be eating yet again! After they'd had their fill, I put them down on the rug to play again and got another snack for myself, then it was time to wake up the toddler and go pick up the kids from school.

I'd made 100% whole wheat bread the night before, so the toddler and I took a loaf over to grandma's and visited for a bit while the 12-year-old boy and the 8-year-old boy babysat for a few minutes. That was a relaxing period, then back home to start dinner. What I came home, from across the street, the 8-year-old boy was sitting outside on a rock holding a twin and looking pensively at the sky. It was beautiful. It had been overcast all day, raining on and off, which is unusual for the part of Mexico where we live, and even the baby seemed to be enchanted by the feel and smell of the air as he was sitting very still on the 8-year-old's lap.

For dinner, I warmed up leftover soup, made quesadillas with the cheese our neighbors made from our cow's milk and the tortilla's Ester had made that morning, and the two afore-mentioned boys made strawberry/dark chocolate milkshakes. Next, we did twin bath time, toddler and 8-year-old boy bath time, called the grown daughter to ask her for a raw vegan yogurt recipe, the teenagers did the kitchen clean up, the 16-year-old boy took over scripture study as I had to go and comfort a crying baby who had woken up after I'd put him to bed, and five of the kids decided that they had to have a slumber party in the same room. I told them they couldn't because it was a school night, but they begged and pleaded and said they wouldn't talk at all. I caved and I'm so glad I did, because look...


Moments like this are what life's all about. Oh, hold on a sec...

...okay, I'm back. Both the babies woke up, but I was able to lie between them in our bed, put both my arms (thank goodness I have two!) around them and they went right back to sleep. It was a little dicey getting my arms out from under them, but they are asleep again. Even though my life is completely insane most of the time and I usually don't even have time to eat dinner until 10:30 at night, I never regret my decision to have a large family and would highly recommend it to anyone who wants lots of character-building experiences! If you're still here, thanks for listening and have a great day!


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To Be Compelled To Be Humble

I'm a disciplinarian. When the kids mess up, there are consequences. Somtimes it's a long lecture (the teenagers especially love these), sometimes it's assigning extra chores, sometimes it's taking away multi-media, and sometimes it's groundation. I feel witchy when I do these things, but I feel it's my duty as well. And... I always give the kids a chance and ask them nicely to correct the behavior before I dole out the punishments....I think.

It seems that when it comes to chores, I have ample opportunity to utilize various methods of punishments. Case in point...morning chores. It is crucial during our morning routine that the kids accomplish their chores before school. If they don't, it puts me behind schedule as I, then, have to do their chores, which can be extremely difficult with the three under three in tow. For example, if the 16-year-old boy doesn't make fires in all three fire places before school, I will then have to perform that task with the babies hanging on my pants, which can be dangerous. If the 12-year-old boy doesn't take out the trash, it will be on my shoulders to do it in order to be able to use it when I do my chores. If the 13-year-old doesn't unload the dishwasher, it will be left to me to do it in order to get a load in before lunch. So you see, I very much rely on my children to get their jobs done or I am deeply affected.

Which leads me to the reason for this post. This morning I woke up late, to find that the older three kids had gone off to school already. I padded down the hall, wondering if I would find their chores finished. I looked in the first two fire places and behold, there were fires! But alas, I looked in the third and there were only cold ashes to be found. I then opened up the trashcan lid to see if the 12-year-old had done his chore, but no, the trash can was completely full. I was furious. How dare they leave me their chores to do when I already had so much to do. I thought all morning what I would do to help them learn responsibility. I HAD to do something, after all, right? I decided that since the 16-year-old boy did do 2/3 of his chores, he wouldn't be grounded, but would have to do an extra hour of chores the next day. The 12-year-old would most certainly be restricted from seeing his friends that night, as he didn't get anything done. At lunch time I would call them to another room in private and ask why they hadn't done their chores, no excuse would be good enough, and I would exact my punishments.

Lunch came, there was a good feeling in the air, and I hated to bring it up, but I did. I called the boys over to where I was feeding the twins hummus and asked why they hadn't done their chores. They both seemed apologetic when they told me that, normally, the 13-year-old girl wakes them up, but since she had been out of town on a basketball trip, she wasn't there to do it and they had forgotten to set their alarm clocks as they were not used to having to use them. The oldest boy told me he got up with barely enough time to get dressed and make two fires (leaving no time to eat breakfast) and that he woke up the 12-year-old with barely enough time to get dressed and out the door.

I listened to their stories and humbly realized that their excuses were valid and that I had unjustly judged them. I thought about that for the rest of the day. It often seems so easy to judge. I often feel so sure I'm right and that there can be no other way. It was humbling to realize that had I not asked the kids to explain and had I not listened to them and tried to see things their way, I would have punished them unfairly.

I am so thankful I have children to humble me day by day. And humble me they do. Maybe someday I will be humble enough that I won't have to be compelled to be humble. Maybe when I'm 90. Thanks for listening.

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