Monday, October 27, 2008

My Hair, Our Papa Bear, and the Big State Fair!

Another new do! Although I STILL get complaints from ward members for cutting my long hair, I've gone even shorter! The only rumor that I wish to dispel is that short hair is "easier to do". Such is not the case for me. To actually get my thickness of a mane to shape takes more time than I ever invested with the long locks. Don't get me wrong, a long time for me is like more than 5 minutes. I've worked out a sleep on the wet hair system though which has simplified the process. Wasn't sure I really liked it at first but it's growing on me! ...pun intended :)

My Dad, Papa Steve, used his vacation time to come and visit us Texans! He is a man of ambition, fun, curiosity, and tenderness. His ability to enjoy simple things, his attention to detail, and appreciation for history, make him the perfect sight seeing companion! And boy, did we see some sights! What a gift to have had that time time with him...sweet memories that will last forever. We love you!

One of our stops was Dallas/Ft. Worth- Our hopeful cheering sadly turned to admitted defeat for our Cougars at the TCU game... but we headed to "the biggest state fair in the country" and were thrilled to see our PIG pull out back to back come-from-behind wins...and let me tell you, we were a cheerin!

That State fair was as Texas as it gets...everything big, friendly, country and fun! Finally, close to closing time, we decided it was time we ought to head home...

Friday, October 24, 2008

Cheers And Tears!

It was with cheers and tears that we welcomed our new nephew, MalaKai, into our family (via long distance speakerphone). Tears of gratitude that we are so blessed to have a precious spirit join us and cheers for his rocking Mom, Heather-my beautifully talented, patient, valiant and humble sister-in-love, who non-complainingly championed her way through his birth...and to his new Dad, my brother McKay, who caught him with strong, faithful, tender arms! We love you three!


I think I must be a crier. I am easily brought to tears in prayer, bearing testimony, hearing testimony, listening and watching children, hearing music, or any other time when I am still and brought to a realization of My God and his tender mercies in my life. I often feel like the Nephites after their witness of Heavens help "their hearts were swollen with joy, unto the gushing out of many tears, because of the great goodness of God in delivering them out of the hands of their enemies; and they knew it was because of their repentance and their humility that they had been delivered from an everlasting destruction." (3Nephi 4:33) It was only recently I read that among the obvious powerful gifts of the spirit is a simple gift of being able to weep. (Elder Marvin J. Ashton "There Are Many Gifts")

Very rarely in my life do I shed tears of sadness or frustration. Yesterday I had such an occasion...

I had just run to the bathroom when seconds later my little Kamorah came towards my direction with a plastic bag. I soon noticed it was medicine and that she had some remnants of the coding on her face. After quickly examining the bag I was in distress. I had no idea what medicine it was nor how many she could've taken. I got terribly concerned. Tragic thoughts spilled into my mind as I strategized what to do. I called my husband (trying not to freak out on him as I knew he was responsible for the medicine being left in a children accessible location). Indeed he had just cleaned out a bag of old IBUprofen from his car. At least I knew what it was.

A personal encounter my dad had with a child dying due to accidental overdose kept replaying in my mind. I tried gagging Kamorah to throw up into the sink, my tears gushing now. And with repeated efforts in plunging my hand down her throat she wouldn't throw up, and even occassionally would laugh at me, thinking I must be playing a game. Please Kamorah, just throw it up!

I looked down at Adelaide who had been lovingly stroking my leg and I sensed a calm feeling, a reassurance of the spirit saying "she's going to be fine". It slowed me in my panic, but unfortunately, I ignored it at first. "Don't worry, she only sucked on them" I heard in my mind...but too worried, too untrusting of "feelings", I didn't listen. I didn't think she could've had more than a few since she was literally only apart form me for a few seconds, but how could I know for sure? I was doubting and questioning. I tried to see if she would be tempted for another one and she strongly pushed me away. I called poison control who confirmed the peaceful promptings, saying IBUprofen was one of the safest drugs and that a child her size would've had to consume more than 13 to go to the hospital. Spencer said there were not even that many in the bag to begin with. I finally gave in. She would be okay. I let the peace and comfort in. I was so relieved. I just held my little Morzy, and began to cry again. This time the other tears. The tears when you realize you've been given a gift from Heaven. Tears when you're reminded of what really matters. That each day is precious, each child a miracle, each moment something to be grateful for. The tears of a heart swollen with joy.