Ninety-Three and Counting

My Grandma Wanda is now 93—and pissed. She has made it clear for the last ten or so years that she is ready to go. But at the same time, she continues to exercise daily, and eats her perfectly portioned meals with complete restraint, counting out her 9 potato chips with her lunch. She is hilarious. I think at that point, I’d be eating all the junk I wanted.

Miles said to me the other day, what will happen if we eat too much ice cream? Will we die? Then he explained his theory behind the question and said to me, “Your Grandma who wants to die just needs to eat more ice cream, then she can go live with her husband again in heaven.” He knows she misses him and her other family members that have passed on, and it is a curious thing to him. He thinks about that a lot. He even mentioned his idea to her today. Thankfully she is hard of hearing and totally missed it.

We went to church with her today, and it was a great experience for me. Here were all of these people living in a care home, the youngest of them mostly octogenarians. Nearly all of them had spouses who had died years ago, or in my grandma’s case decades ago. One spoke of her husband as if he were still living, but in a care facility or nursing home. How sad! It was testimony meeting, and we got to hear some neat stories and reminiscing. As we walked out I realized that this is it. This period of our lives is something to cherish. At some point, your spouse passes on, your senses dull and your kids grow up and get busy. Things get lonely and for so many, their memories of the earlier years are everything.

When I was pregnant with Elise I used to sleepover at my grandma’s house out in the desert in California. She lived next door to her sister, Ila. They each had a double wide mobile home from the late 1960’s. In my grandma’s, everything looked brand new, but from another era. She takes such meticulous care of things. She still puts chair pads on her favorite spot on the couch so she won’t wear anything. She gave me an old quilt that her and her mother made out of their old house dresses. She used to keep it on her bed when she was first married. Of course she sewed a little white protective sheet near the top so it would stay perfect. That is how she does things.

Anyway, she and Ila used to have a bit of a cantankerous relationship, but at the same time, they were so sweet to each other. They’d watch Wheel of Fortune every night together. One day Ila told my grandma that she didn’t know why she (my grandma) bothered typing her personal history because no one was going to want to read it. Hah! Hearing their banter made me snicker. But it couldn’t be further from the truth. I love the stories, the pictures, the love letters, ALL of it. And my kids have been subjected to the retelling.

On the way to visit her today I was telling them some stories about our ancestors and Simone looks at me and says, “MOMMY. Stop talking!” Hilarious. Ila’s been reincarnated.

Someone in our family gave me a copy of some of the personal histories of my great-great-grandmothers and it was so interesting but I wanted to know so much more about them. I wanted to hear their struggles and their feelings most. I guess I’ve learned to connect with people by hearing about their trials. How was it to be a polygamous wife married to your older sister’s husband? How was it to lose four children within a few years? What was it like to cross the plains in a handcart, nearly freezing to death? I want to know how they overcame life’s adversity. I think my own life has been completely defined and shaped (mostly for the better) by the difficult times. I wondered how I am doing with recording my journey in my blog/journal. I feel like I am pretty personal here in many ways, but there are lots of holes too. Not because I am a very private person. I am pretty much an open book. But even I feel insecure sharing everything so publicly. However, I think that in the future, I will write with more of a focus on filling in what I want my kids to know about me and my feelings and the things that are important to me.

Today I am especially thankful for a house full of children. A husband who I couldn’t love more, and my wonderfully working body and senses. I am grateful for mobility and the freedom that affords me. And I am grateful that even though my grandma wants to be with her husband again, she is still around to share her stories with me and my kids.

Here we are with Grandma. Sitting on her perfect 70's couch. I hope I get white hair like hers when I get older. Simone looked up at her as we were leaving and said, "Grandma, I like your hair." I thought that was cute.

Elise's Story

Elise had a birthday last week. Double digits! It is hard for me to believe that I have a ten-year-old. I've been a mom for a decade.


I was so young when I got married, sometimes it freaks me out that I made such a critical decision at 19. But I think I make good choices, and Jared was one of them. We immediately moved to California after we were married. People there were very confused to why I was married already. They'd always ask me if I had a baby, assuming of course that was the reason someone of my age would be married. Well, if you don't have a baby, why did you get married? Um, the same reason everyone else does! I met the man of my dreams and I wanted to be with him forever.

About two years after we got married, I knew the time was right to have a baby. We expected it to take a little while. The first pregnancy test I took was negative. Jared and I were both a little unexpectedly sad about that. The next month, it was his birthday. I felt pregnant. So I secretly took a test thinking if it was positive, I'd give it to him on his birthday. It was negative again. So a week later I went to the doctors office for my regular exam, and didn't mention any of this to Jared. My doctor told me that home pregnancy tests were pretty accurate, so it was probably something else, but did another blood test just to be sure. I kinda wrote that off. Stopping at a gas station and buying myself a bag of Doritos on the way home. Not pregnant. I can eat whatever the heck I want.

Later that day, he called me at work and said "I hope this is good news, but you ARE pregnant!"
It was hard to sit at work and pretend like nothing had happened for another couple of hours. I was shaking so bad. On the way home, I stopped at Target and bought a card and some little baby trinkets for Jared. I handed it to him when he got home from work, and he read it and thought I was joking. We must tease each other a lot, because when he proposed, I thought he was the one joking. Nope, not kidding. He just put his arms around me and started crying. Apparently that is another theme we have going on. Full on sobbing tears of joy.

He was very excited. Morning sickness hit and that was a whole new experience. Many of the freeways in California don't have shoulders, which is problematic when you are throwing up nearly every day.On our 2nd anniversary, I was trying hard not to puke. Cheese enchiladas sounded good, until I smelled them!

Finally after nine months of swelling, gaining weight, puking, peeing, insomnia, (can you see how much I love being pregnant?) I brought home my little big baby Elise. I guess you really love and appreciate what you sacrifice for, because I was in love with this chubby cheeked, cute little baby girl. She was so tiny and helpless (although tiny is relative, she was ten pounds at two weeks) and I just loved having her right next to me. She slept in a little cradle in our room, and we were inseparable for months. I remember leaving the hospital, and just feeling like I couldn't believe they were just going to let me take this baby home with me. Getting the carseat in the car was kind of a comedy. Finally, we got it figured out.

Our first outing with Elise was to Wal-mart a couple days after she was born. We were changing her diaper in the car, when black poop just started pouring out everywhere. There was a puddle of poop on the driver side seat. Jared was freaking out. Thankfully his mom was there to help us get it under control. Thinking about that day makes me laugh.

We've since mastered car seats, diaper changes, crazy schedules, carpools, sleep routines, naptimes, bedtime rituals, etc, but it is still fun to think back on the journey and how young and sometimes naive we were.

We couldn't be prouder of Elise. She is a very sweet girl.

Here are some baby pictures of the baby girl who made me a mom:

(thank goodness the maternity clothes are better now. This is me at 40 weeks--HUGE)

Who knew she was going to look like this?

We sure love you Elise!

The Duel

A few days ago I was gardening and Miles runs up to tell me that he saw a Praying mantis fighting with another bug, and the praying mantis had much "tougher moves" and won the "match" even without any arms.

Miles loves to talk about "battling" and to him, even the soccer match is a battle. He likes to ask me questions like, "who is tougher, you or daddy?" I told him Daddy was stronger and I am tougher. Sounds about right. Anyone whose ever had the chance to see Jared sick would have to agree. ; )