Random Ramblings

This post may seem a bit scattered--that's because it is.

We've now been here in Katy for almost 5 weeks (I think), and I feel more at home. A group of girls from the ward has taken me in and it's nice to have friends. It's a good feeling to be invited to playgroups or girl's nights or to be called to be checked on. I still feel a little like an outsider. I guess I'm too self-conscious and often worry about people not understanding me due to limited time since we've met. So . . . after I say something and a questioning look is given, I decide maybe I better not say anything. I'm slowly getting over this.

I've been thinking a lot about how I can strengthen my family. The Holy Ghost has witnessed to me how important it is that I support my spouse in all that he does. This relationship, above all otherly earthly relationships, is most important and vital to my success as a mother and a daughter of God. If I can teach my children that I put Heavenly Father first, and then, my spouse, they will see that example and our home can have a more solid foundation and prepare them for their future marriages.

While teaching the mia-maids in our last ward, I gave a lesson on supporting priesthood leaders. One specific story stands out to me. When President Benson was a general authority, he was asked to speak in general conference in the Tabernacle. A friend attended the conference with the family. She noted that when President McKay announced him as the next speaker that one by one his children passed this message down the row: "Pray for dad." At the end of the row, the message came to Sister Benson--her head already bowed. I've thought about this story since then and applied it in our home. Many times in the middle of the day, I will get the prompting that we need to kneel down and offer a prayer on Ryan's behalf. Matthew will say, "But Mom we already said family prayer." I hope this will teach him that we seek to follow the spirit, even if He directs us to do something not in our regular routine. But I also hope that it will teach my children how important it is to support our Priesthood leaders and how important it is that we support our spouses.

The other thing that's been on my mind has been that of sacrifice. The Sunday school lessons over the past year have been on the pioneers and the Doctrine and Covenants--as have the relief society/priesthood lessons with the Joseph Smith manual. One of the overall themes to me of Joseph Smith's life and the pioneers is that of sacrifice.

"Sacrifice is the crowning test of the gospel. Men are tried and tested in this mortal probation to see if they will put first in their lives the things of the kingdom of God . . .

"Joseph Smith taught the law of sacrifice in these words: . . .

"'A religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary [to lead] unto life and salvation; for, from the first existence of man, the faith necessary unto the enjoyment of life and salvation never could be obtained with the sacrifice of all earthly things. It was through this sacrifice, and this only, that God has ordained that men should enjoy eternal life.'" (Bruce R. McKonkie, Mormon Doctrine, 2nd ed. (1966), 663.)

This past Monday night, we talked about what we could give up as a family to become closer and feel the spirit stronger in our home. When our family home evening was over, it was decided that we would go one day this week without any television or DVDs. You would think this would be a simple task since we have had television for less than a six-month period over the past 7 years of marriage. Well, it proved to be difficult at first. The kids kept trying to turn it on, but as the day went on, we had so much fun playing and reading and laughing. Ryan and I played a game and visited for quite some time once we put the kids down. It was a great day! We're going to do this more often.

Anyway, again . . . random ramblings . . . until next time.

Birthdayed Out!

I think it's an interesting statistic that more crying seems to occur on a child's birthday than any other day--at least at our house. Our kids get so excited that they cannot contain it and then, melt-downs happen. Anyway . . .

Matthew's special day spanned out over Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. These are in reverse order.

And not to diminish from Matthew's special day, but David is POTTY-TRAINED!!! We are thrilled about this!!!

Sunday, before church, we gave Matthew his birthday dinner choice: pizza, opened presents, and had his cake topper. I LOVE this recipe, Ruth! And I LOVELOVELOVE baking on my stone. (Thanks, Grammy and Pop-pop!)

There is a story behind this rocket. Each year, I decorate the kids' cakes with a design of something they're into. This year, it's space. So . . . instead of the regular box cake, I ventured out. I love watching Cake Boss and Ultimate Cake Off. I decided on a really tasty-sounding chocolate cake (which it was) with a chocolate ganache frosting, strawberries in between layers, and marshmallow fondant. My idea was to create a blue fondant cake with cut-out, white fondant stars and a gray, red, and white rocket blasting off (composed of rice crispy treats).

Well . . . while making the fondant, a really LOUD explosion occurred inside my handmixer, along with sparks and then, flames. Sadly, one of my favorite Christmas presents from our first year of marriage, ended its life. So . . . having to make a decision on the rather extensive list of ingredients for this cake, I chose to salvage what I could of the fondant and make it all gray for the rocket (knowing this would be a really ugly cake).

Then, after making and refridgerating the frosting for what I deemed long enough, I topped my cake with the ganache. The cake basically sopped up the frosting--yes, it was that runny.

Hmmm . . . this is not exactly going as planned.

So . . . in the end . . . we ate the cake with said liquidy frosting and strawberries on Saturday night with the missionaries and a delicious half-gallon of carmel praline Blue Bell!!!

Sunday, I assembled the rocket and above and below, you can see it's "homeadeness". Have I enterred my mad cake decorating skills in a competition before, surprisingly no. I don't want to hurt other people's feelings.

Luckily and helpful to my ego, Matthew did not mind.

And this cake recipe was AMAZING!!!

Of course, what would a birthday be without cupcakes?

Katy ISD allows parents to bring in peanut butter and home-baked goods, so we capitalized on the chance. Matthew was so excited! (However, I'm not certain the cupcakes were face-up when he arrived at school. Upon his return home, the pan appeared to have frosting everywhere.)

I guess his birthday also was extended over the weekend we spent in Dallas with Ryan's parents when we were getting his cast off. They gave him his presents and he claimed that he would wait until his birthday; it's very difficult to hold off on something this exciting for 20+ days when you are not quite five years old and you're related to Ryan or his mom. So . . . Matthew waited two or three days. Imagine!

And I'm not certain that I ever posted pics of his first day of school. This year, I was super emotional. I cried after he left and then, I was fine, and then, I cried hysterically when Ryan commented on Matthew's growing up. It lasted for a few days. I'm blaming it on the hormones.

David thought he needed to bring a "pack-pack" too when we dropped Matthew off.

Morton Ranch Elementary

It's All About Strategy

So when I returned from the grocery store and a birthday party last night, this is what I came home too.

Everyone was asleep, so I checked some emails and made night-time preparations.

Once I climbed into bed, Ryan rolled over and very sweetly tucked me in. I was surprised to find him so coherent and felt bad for waking his slumber. And then . . .

Ryan: "Ker, this is how I secure. This is how I flow."
Me: "I beg your pardon?"
Ryan: "I secure. I flow. I secure. I flow." This time with hand motions.
Me: "Ry, what are you talking about? You're not awake, are you? Are you talking about a football play?!"
Ryan: "Secure. Flow." And then, he konked out.

Yesterday was the first day I've seen since we moved here to show any indication that this blazing city has another season besides "hot". It actually cooled down to where there was a breeze in the evening and I'm guessing that the temperature dropped to the '70's for more than half an hour--like three hours. I didn't want to go inside; it was heavenly!!!

Yesterday was also a big struggle for me. Pregnancy often makes me feel "blah" and my legs struggle to work with various aches and pains throughout my body. Surprise. Typically, on those days, my attitude struggles a bit to overcome these wondrous feelings. As a result, I felt a bit of "wo is me" yesterday, a little underappreciated, a little "lets not do any house work today", "I need to rest". (In spite of these feelings, I did take Davey on a little date to a decorating store, and we managed to make it through without any extra purchases, resulting from breaking things (He didn't actually mind that the date was for a mommy store.). So . . . we needed to celebrate. We stopped in at Jamba Juice. It's been a couple of years since I've frequented that store, but let me tell you, Davey thought he was in heaven!)

Ryan had a super busy day yesterday with grades due Friday, prep. for conferences, and upcoming games this week. I don't think we had the chance to do more than exchange a quick text of business/financial nature.

Anyway, I worked really hard to fight my attitude yesterday. Ryan arrived home around 7:45ish p.m. and what should he be carrying, but a dozen red roses with a beautiful, perfect card that said it all. Everything I needed to hear was in that card. A look of "how did you know" crossed my face. I'm so grateful to a husband who's in tune with the Spirit and with me.

Matthewisms

Matthew & I were driving home from running errands the other day when this conversation occurred:

Me: (Having just read another explanation of benefits for his arm surgery and various x-rays) "Wow, Matt. Between the charges from the doctor and the hospital, your arm is costing what a brand new little car would cost. (Of course, we will only pay a portion.)"

Matthew: "Okay. I'll wait at home."

Me: "What are you talking about?"

Matthew: "I'll wait at home while you go pick up our new car."

Me: "I love you, Matthew."


While sitting at the dinner table (Ryan happened to come home a little early this particular evening.).

Matthew: "Mom, are you going to go running?"

Me: "Uh, no."

Matthew: "Why not?!"

Me: "Well . . . I'm pregnant, Matthew. I can't run when I'm pregnant. Some mommies can, but I can't. When I was pregnant with you I ran and I hurt my body really bad. I ended up being on bed rest. When I was pregnant with Davey, I tried again, and the same thing. I'll run once the baby is born."

Matthew: "Did you hurt yourself from running when Daddy was inside your tummy too?"

Me: (Looking at Ryan while Ryan is turning his head to laugh) "Um, Matthew, I'm not Daddy's mom. Grandma Allred is his mommy and he was in her tummy."

Matthew: (Very seriously) "Ohhh."

Glad we cleared that one up!


Friday night, we attended Ryan's team's football game. This is sort of one of those experiences where looking back, you ask yourself, "What was I thinking?!"

I allowed the boys to pick out one treat and one bag of chips/Cheetos before the game and I took a bottle of water. We arrived shortly after the game began and managed to find a seat at the top of the bleachers with two empty rows in front of us and three behind. This is CRUCIAL in order to insure that no patrons get kicked or nudged throughout the game by little feet unable to sit still. It also allows the boys some freedom to walk and play without bothering anyone.

Around half time, they'd eaten the cheetos and half of their treats. And they were actually really well behaved. But then the music began for the half-time shows and it's as if the sugar kicked in. Matthew started and couldn't seem to stop jumping. David attempted to run laps before I stopped him. Both boys began dancing. At one point, Matthew had one hand on his head, the other holding his foot, moving in circles--doing a Carlton of sorts. And he almost fell while doing it. I told him he had to stop because I was afraid he was going to fall down the bleachers, but I had to work so hard to hold it together and keep myself from cackling. It was so HILARIOUS! The boys did various booty shakes with bums in the air while holding on to the bleachers. And the energy escalated from there!

We left the game toward the end of the first overtime, and luckily we did. We made it home by 11:20 or 11:30 p.m. Ryan called to tell me they'd one in the 5th overtime! CRAZINESS!

Anyway, I'm glad we got out of the house and supported Ryan, but I will highly consider what we bring next time and how late we stay. (Saturday came and David, regardless of his lack of sleep, woke up pretty early and was ready to go, go, go.)

Oh, Man!

Upon our enterring HEB grocery store yesterday, I grabbed a shopping basket and Matthew accepted the pretty blue balloon from the associate handing them out. He further inquired, "Can I have one for my brother?"

My thoughts: "Very sweet; however, I now have to navigate through this newly discovered and unfamiliar store with an even more energetic little 4, almost 5-year old boy."

So . . . we begin walking and Matthew's smacking people in the head and face with these dang balloons.

More thoughts: "Maybe he'll accidentally let go and the balloons will float away. . . . Wait a minute. Are those weights on the ends of the balloon strings?!"

Fifteen minutes later, after grabbing literally the last bag of white flour hamburger buns, some apples, and a loaf of bread, we make it through the check-out line with minimal casualties (He hit one worker one time and then, he hit the lady in front of us repeatedly with those balloons--not to mention all of the people who stood in or near our path along the aisles.).

We begin our walk to the van in the 100+ degree weather (or so it felt) and Matthew is lagging.

Me: "Lets hurry it up, Matt. We still have another errand to run."

Matthew: "Mom, I just want to walk on the grass."

Me: Sigh. "Fine."

All of a sudden, I hear this really loud pop. I look to see him jump just slightly. My thoughts are turned to my mom. I'm looking for her horrified reaction, as she is deathly, DEATHLY afraid of balloons. Oh yeah, she's not here. I return to myself and look at Matthew. I'm waiting for him to start crying over what has happened and a demand to return to the store.

Matthew: "Oh, Man! Now David doesn't get a balloon. Bummer!"

I have to keep myself from cackling right there in the parking lot. Too much.

I feel my Savior's love through my mother's love.

Now that I have two kids and I'm pregnant with my third, I feel the kids' demands much more. It's somewhat comparable to the first time any child is born. For me, I feel somewhat overwhelmed with the ontake of a new being to take care of and nurture. Then, I get accustomed to that number and that's when a new one is on the way. Anyway, I wanted to expound upon this topic, as it has been on my mind.

Whether I've slept or not, I'm expected to perform. Sick or not, it's go, go, go. When my feet are swollen and rest sounds wonderful, it doesn't stop my children from needing me. With the onset of an ear infection, I'm expected to handle David's screaming and tantruming. If I go to the bathroom and happen to shut the door in hopes of two to three minutes worth of privacy and break, two little pairs of feet appear at the door, pounding and shouting loudly for me, and alas, trying to open the door. While on the phone, I am almost instantly needed as my attention is suddenly diverted from them.

I'm not trying to complain. These are simply my observations. I think every mom can attest to the truthfulness of these things.

I can't imagine that they behave much differently from when I was a child.

I know I interrupted my mother when she was on the phone, because she and my dad constantly talked to us about that behavior. One time while on a trip, my mom felt the need to consol my uncle's fiance, as he had just passed away. We were left at my aunt and uncle's house with my dad and his family, while she slipped out for several hours. I remember upon her return that we gave her so much grief. (Not to mention all of the phone calls we made to her cell phone while she was away.) I complained to my mom when in high school that she did not support my music enough or me for that matter--though she traveled to almost every softball game I played the previous summer when I was in three softball leagues and my brothers played sports as well. I pitched a big fit in Taco Bell, around the age of 9 or 10, because I ordered a taco supreme, instead of a burrito supreme like I wanted. I told my aunt, whom I was visiting, to order a new one. I know there are countless other memories of things like this where my mother probably thought, "Who are you?" or "What a lovely child I have!"

Some mothers are called upon to make great sacrifices everyday of self, time, heartache (i.e. The mother of a child with a terminal or chronic illness or special need that requires full-time care; the mother of a waivering child or child with addictions, a single mother or military mother, etc.). Most mothers, however, make sacrifices on a smaller scale each day. This doesn't make them less significant. And if you asked the mothers who are required to do the above listed things, they would probably say, "We did what we had to do." Either way though, they have to let go of their wants and some of their needs. They learn to be selfless (or more selfless). They learn to separate themselves from the screaming/tantrumming child and realize this is just a stage. They still have unconditional love for their child who has expressed unkind words, or been entirely selfish, or broken their heart.

I'm not sure that I'll ever have full appreciation for my mother for all of her selfless, and yet, willingingly selfless sacrifices or for the tears I'm sure to have caused her. But I'm trying. Day by day, as I become more attached to my children through the service I give and the same experiences I have with my children that my mother had with me, I come one step closer. I feel just a small portion of the worth of a soul in the sight of God and I see that child through Heavenly Father's eyes--even if it for a brief moment. It is at these moments that my heart is swollen with love for my children, my husband who helped create them, my mother who mothered me with charity, and my Father-in-Heaven for lending these spirits.

I feel my Savior's love through my mother's love.