I remember...getting a new Easter dress every year

When I was a little girl, my mom made me and my sisters a new dress for Easter every year. My mother is such a good seamstress and every year I looked forward to my new dress.

I was a pretty typical little girl. I loved to wear pretty dresses. I even wore them to school.

But unlike my sisters, I usually also got an Easter Bonnet. I know I’m not wearing one in this picture, but almost every year my mom would get me a bonnet that matched my dress.

I remember we hung the bonnets up in my “corner” of the room (a story for a different night, I promise) and so the wall had a bunch of hats hanging up.

That was so much fun. I’m not sure how old I was when that tradition ended but the memory always makes me smile.

I remember...Rylan's Static Hair

Earlier this spring when the weather was MUCH more bearable than it is now, one of our daily activities was to go to parks in the afternoon. The kids loved it and would wear them out so they would sleep well. It was definitely a win-win situation.

There are a few parks we’ve fallen in love with this year. My very favorite park is in Montrose, right along the Mississippi River (and I mean it’s right there). I also love the view. Nauvoo is seated just across the river. And the Temple just sits and almost beckons you.

The park is so pretty and quiet and its also clean which is important for me when it comes to a park. The only drawback about taking the kids here, is that Aaden is about 6 months short from doing just about everything there except for the swings. And he does love to swing, but let’s face it, a person can only swing for so long.

So we went in search of a new favorite play park. We found it in Nauvoo. It isn’t a huge fancy place, but both Aaden and Rylan can climb the stairs and both can go down the slides. They have a lot of fun there. Also its usually quiet.

So my favorite memory regarding our park travels this spring occurred in this park in Nauvoo. Now if you’ve met my son, I’m sure one of your first thoughts went along the lines of, “wow, look at that hair”. And that’s cool. I for one love his long straight crazy hair. I’ve tried cutting and styling it every way I can think of but it just does its own thing in the end.

Well one day we were playing and Rylan went down the “twirly” slide (named by Rylan). I was at the bottom watching him come down and when I saw him at the bottom, I almost died laughing. It was the funniest thing. There must have been a huge amount of static electricity that day because every single hair on his head (so 5 billion) was sticking straight out and up. I couldn’t stop laughing. Finally, when I had composed myself, I did what any mother would do—run to her truck to grab the camera!

I tried to recreate the experience for my photo shoot but none of them ever were quite the same. We did come close. We all had so much fun that day. Aaden even loved the twirly slide that day. I miss those warm summer days. Hopefully, fall afternoons are on their way and those are even better!

I remember...making cucumber boats and floating them down the ditch

The last few years my father-in-law has grown a beautiful garden. The other day they came to visit and brought a huge basket of veggies. Among the harvest were some huge cucumbers. It made me think of the times I made cucumber and zucchini boats with my grandparents (Hoskins) during the summers when they grew a little too big to eat.

My grandparents had a small irrigation ditch running in front of their home and it was so much fun to wade and play in as a child. The water was always cool and clear.

Grandma would pick huge cucumbers and hollow them out then make little “sails” with toothpicks.

We would stand at the tiny bridge and start the boats going then see whose could go faster. What a creative idea.

So in honor of that fun memory, tonight I hollowed out one of my big cucumbers and told my boys we were making a “boat”. Since we have no ditch like grandma, the bathtub had to fill in. They had a ball, just like I always did.

I remember...after the birth of Aaden--I never slept again

Written July 26, 2010

I remember...after Aaden was born I never slept again.

To preface this post, let me say that when Rylan was a baby, he slept through the night at 2 months and almost never cried. So my idea of taking care of a newborn was skewed in the wrong direction a little.

I sort of assumed Aaden would be some sort of carbon copy of Rylan. Soon after he was born, I knew we didn't have another Rylan. This little sweetie cried so loud and persistently that we could hear him crying even when he was in the nursery of the hospital.

After the pediatrician checked him the day he was born he came in and said to us, "Wow, that boy's a bruiser". He definitely wanted to be heard.

But he was so squishy and sweet and I didn't care if he cried a bit. I spoiled him the first three months without apology and I loved every second of it.

Anyhow, Aaden liked to eat. He liked to eat A LOT. Jamie told me that since I had a 9 pound baby it would take a lot of eating just to MAINTAIN, let alone grow. So my body went into overdrive producing what he needed. The first few months I just let him sleep in his swing and I slept on the couch (and I'm being liberal when I say 'slept').

By about 2 months, I thought we should transfer into the bedroom (the thought of sleeping on my own bed sounded so divine). He slept in a pack and play in the bedroom. Most nights however, he woke up so often to eat that I eventually just laid him in bed with me and we slept there together (Seth was working nights). That way, he could eat whenever he wanted, and I could lay down and rest.

When we were ready to be done with that, we finally moved Aaden into his crib in his own room. I think this was about 3 or 4 months. At about that time, he would only wake up once in the night to be fed. I remember many nights trudging across the hall into his room and groggily nursing him, cuddling a bit, then laying him back down. This routine continued for some time.

Every month I would tell myself, "next month, he'll surely be sleeping through the night" and then another month would come and go and he was still waking up. At his 6 month check-up, the pediatrician couldn't believe he still wasn't sleeping through the night so he gave me information to read on how to stop this insanity. Mostly it consisted of laying him down in bed, leaving, and never going back. Harsh. I hate to let a baby cry. So I put it off for a while but I was finally so desperate that I tried it.

Now, before this point, even getting him to fall asleep was a significant challenge. He would fall asleep in his swing just fine, but the only other way to get him to sleep was to drive. So there were many, many, many nights we got frustrated trying to get him to sleep so I would load him into the truck and 10 minutes later he was asleep. In those cases, I just took the carseat in and let him sleep there. We were flexible--whatever worked was OK by me!

During the day, I usually loaded both of the kids in the truck and went for drives specifically to get Aaden to take a nap. Sometimes I did this twice a day.

It's amazing how being a parent who is sleep-deprived will do nearly anything to get that baby to just go to sleep. I remember telling a friend that if I could just get a full night's sleep I would never ever complain about anything ever again. It is just that horrible to be that sleep deprived with seemingly no hope in sight.

So when at 9 months he slept through the night, I literally jumped for joy. Ever since then, he falls asleep for his naps and at naptime just fine with just a hug and kiss.

Now that the lack-of-sleep experience is over, I can actually think back about it and smile. It really was hard, but it gave me a chance to bond with Aaden. I got a little extra time alone with him in the night when things were quiet in the house. During those times each night, I would hold him, tough his skin, kiss his fingers, breathe in his scent (which is pure heaven), and just hold him close. Those moments were so special and I actually did love them at the time. I just didn't love being so tired. But besides the lack of sleep the first year, he really has been such a sweet addition to our family. I love kissing his chubby cheeks and making him smile. So even though I'll remember these things fondly, I am thankful it's over.

I remember...

Memory #2
Written July 24, 2010

I remember...when my grandpa Hoskins saved me from a vicious beast.

When I was in kindergarten I would stay the mornings with my grandma and grandpa Hoskins. My kindergarten class met in the afternoons. So after lunch, I would walk the half block to the elementary school. After school, I would either walk home (a half block in the other direction) or head back to grandma and grandpa's house.

One day after school, I was walking to grandma's house. I got about 20 feet away from their house and a little white yipper dog ran up to me and started barking at me.

Now, they say that when you are faced in a situation as dire as this one, your body will institute either a "fight" or "flight" response. I have found this has rarely been the case with me--thus illustrated in this situation.

When that dumb little dog started barking at me, I froze and went completely blank. My little five year old mind could not understand how a person could ever survive a situation such as this.

Luckily, grandpa was out working in his garden. He yelled over at me, "Dolly, just walk right past him, he won't do nothin'". In my terror I stayed frozen. Unable to even verbalize a response. Again, grandpa beckoned me, promising the dog was no threat. Again, I stayed frozen.

Finally, grandpa walked over and picked me up. He carried me to the safety of the house and gave me a Rolaid from his pocket (a common piece of "candy" from grandpa).

I'm sure grandpa never gave a second thought to his small act of heroism that day. However, looking out the window later that day, sucking on my mint flavored Rolaid, I could not help but adore and love my grandpa for saving my life.

Project: "I Remember..."

Okay, so here is the thing. I truly believe that journaling is important. I always have. I do not know if it is from being taught in primary, young women’s, etc. that everyone should journal; or if it is perhaps some sort of deeper personal belief. Nevertheless, I have always felt the need to journal.

At some times in my life, I have. For the majority of my years, however, I haven’t made the time. Following those periods, I have then felt the severe guilt at never keeping up. In fact, many of my journal entries begin with, “I know it has been a long time since I wrote…”, and then the next several pages are filled with detailed and boring information in an effort to “catch up”.
I think the problem is this: I love to write (not that I pretend to think I am any good at it), but I hate monotony. I have never been good at anything I have to do every day.

So I have had this epiphany, so to speak, that instead of feeling the need to sit down at the end of every day and write down everything I did that day, and everything I felt, I am going to simply write about a memory from my life. Maybe it will be a recent one, perhaps an old one (I am 30 after all, some of my memories are so old-hee hee).

The idea came partly from my awesome mother and partly from the lame but addicting TV show “The Ghost Whisperer” (yes, I just threw up a little after having admitted that).

You see, I think there is a reason we remember what we do. I, for one, have an absolutely horrid memory. My grandma Betty, my dad, and my sister Keri have the ability to remember every minute detail of what seems like random, unimportant things. Oh, I wish I could do that. I literally tear myself up inside thinking that I will forget my memories.

I know some things I can never forget, such as the smell of my grandma Hoskins house, (i.e. yeasty, warm rolls) , or the way my grandpa Bill gives hugs (i.e. pounds your back in a way that has on more than one occasion LITERALLY taken my breath away). Those things are the most important, I understand. But I do not want to forget little details, like the cute things Rylan says or the over-abundant goody-bags grandma Betty makes for me and my children whenever we drive from Utah to Iowa.

Sure, maybe those things are not that important to some people, but they are to me. Those are the moments that make up my life. And if I do not write them down, I know I will forget many of them. That breaks my heart.

I really want to have something written so that someday my children, grandchildren, or whoever is interested, can sit down and read my thoughts in an effort to really know me. To know how the things I experienced in life affected me. Because to know that, is to understand who I truly am. What I would give to go into the minds of my grandparents, parents, or siblings to see the world the way they have.

Perhaps no one will read this, and that is okay too. Because I know someday, I will. And I will be thankful I recorded these things.

Not all experiences will be good, but I think those bad experiences are just as important to remember as the good, so that we can remember the lessons we learned from them.
So I am making a goal to try and write down one memory a day. I cannot make any promises as to the accuracy (aforementioned memory problem), but I will record these experiences the way they exist in my heart.

I hope you enjoy my life. I have.



Memory #1
Written July 23, 2010

I remember…The day I was born. Just kidding, I don’t remember that.

Okay, now I’ll be serious. I remember… going horseback riding with Jon, Alyssa, Keri, and Seth. Yes, I admit, I am choosing a memory from 2 weeks ago. Pathetic. But I had to start somewhere and it is something I want to remember so there you go.
It all started one night when I got a call from my brother Jon. You have to understand, I NEVER get calls from my brother Jon. And I have to tell you, when I hear his voice on the phone, it makes me miss him so much. I have grown to love Jon deeply over the past few years. I cannot even say when our relationship changed from “I hate my annoying sibling” to “I would do anything for that man”.

Anyway, Jon called me one night. Seth was at work and I was home watching television. When I picked up the phone, Jon asked me if Seth and I wanted to go horseback riding in Logan Canyon through Beaver Creek Lodge. Instantly the idea got me so excited. Two seconds later I knew we could not afford it. I have been staying home with our babies for almost two years and the lack of two incomes has finally caught up to us.

Because I could not bear to tell my brother I could not go because of something as dumb as money, I told him I would talk to Seth and call him back. I got off the phone and cried for some time before working up the energy to call Seth. I told him he would have to call Jon to tell him we could not go. I could not bring myself to do it. It seems silly now at how hard this was, but at the time I was really torn up.

Seth called Jon later that night from work and Jon told him “Don’t worry, you are going. We’ll take care of it”. Man, even now I’m starting to bawl about it. Anyway, when Seth told me that, I felt really bad at first. Like a failure, if I’m completely honest. It was really hard for me to accept Jon and Alyssa’s gift. My dumb pride. But in the end, we did accept their gift and I am so thankful we did.

I know money is often a taboo topic to speak of, especially in my family. I know it may be inappropriate to write all of this, and hopefully it does not bother Jon and Alyssa, but their generosity really touched me. They gave me the opportunity to experience a wonderful day, with a few of my favorite people, in one of my favorite places on this earth—-the mountains.

The trip started with us running late, and me feeling all anxious inside (thanks to the Brad Burr genes) about the thought of being 3 minutes late. Jon drove and I thought for sure I would get sick (no offense Jon) but surprisingly, I didn’t.

What made me sick, was when I first got on the horse. Seriously. It was so high up there I got nervous and a little dizzy at first. Although this was not my first experience with horseback riding, it had been a long enough time that I had forgotten how big they are.

The dizziness passed soon enough and it was so fun to see the five of us set out on our 3 hour journey up the mountainside.

The view was breathtaking the entire time. I grew up around these same mountains, gone camping in them countless times. But it is amazing how you never really get used to the raw beauty and majesty of them. I told my mom they made you feel “appropriately small” and I do not simply mean physically.

We rode the horses up and each of us got our fair share of close encounters of the “tree” kind, but we all fared all right. There was a moment of terror for me at the top of the mountain when our horses were led to a watering hole and the guide explained how to prevent our horses from rolling in the water with us still attached. Luckily, my horse maverick wasn’t thirsty.

My favorite part of the journey was at the top when we were traveling through a meadow. At this particular point you could look out at the mountain ranges in the distance and it felt as though we were looking at a picture or watching it in a movie. Real life couldn’t look and feel like this, could it?

Traveling down the mountain was a little frightening but we made it. I was a little tense about the chance of seeing a bear (one of my worst fears and a constant companion in my nightmares) or a mountain lion. Interestingly, the only thing I saw was a squirrel. Really, a squirrel? I could walk out at any point in time from my house in Iowa and see a squirrel. They are everywhere. But our lack of wildlife visualization was okay since two days later Seth and I saw 4 moose while traveling through the same canyon.

So the trip ended, and I have to say, sitting on a horse for three straight hours is not easy. My knees were so fixed into their position that I could not get off my horse. I honestly could not. So my big hunk of a husband came and just lifted me off. Just like it was nothing. Of course, my knees were locked into position so I was curled into a ball until he helped me to stand. Thank goodness for my corn-fed Iowa love.

After the ride we went to LeBeau’s near bear lake where Alyssa reported that this was the best part of the day. Really, the whole day was perfect in my mind and the more I think about it, the more I love the experience.

Here are the things I learned from this experience:
1. I actually like horseback riding.
2. My brother Jon is a good man (and if it’s not too creepy to say—he has also turned into a hotty somehow).
3. My sister Keri owns a cute cowgirl hat.
4. Alyssa has the knack for choosing a slow horse with gastrointestinal issues.
5. I will never stop feeling an overwhelming awe when in the mountains.
6. I can count on my family whenever I need them, even if I feel undeserving.