"You Must Believe In Spring"

 It was important to me that the one year anniversary of my Daddy's death (or "birth" into the next phase of life, as I like to think of it) feel beautiful and hopeful.  I know God knew I needed that.  And He blessed me by giving me a bit of spring in January.  Just like I spent that day a year earlier enjoying my children and the sunshine at a local park, we did the same thing this time, only the scenery was slightly different from San Diego.  Here is our special, hope-filled day...

 My Michael climbing and smiling!

 My Sophia being her sweet, beautiful self.

 My Sammy after he slipped in the muddy snow but insisted on still playing.

 Sophia!   Jumping!

 The sky reflected so beautifully in the stream...

 Michael even noticed and pointed out the pretty running water to me.

 Being a cheese ball with his cool walking stick!

It warms my heart to see my kids running and going on adventures together!

 The kids found this lovely bird very close to us and flying around.  Daddy felt very close too.

 These berries were so alive and amazing.  Talk about a vibrant sign of life!

Even though there was still ice floating on parts of the water the kids were eager to step into it, throw leaves and skip rocks on it.  They remind me to make my own fun, enjoy the little things and seize the moment!

 Sammy...my precious little adventurer!

 The water was beautiful.  Even though it's cold, the birds are still enjoying the afternoon.

 Some geese flying overhead...  I love noticing beautiful, natural moments like these with my kids.

 Feeding ducks, just like we used to at the UC Davis arboretum when I was kid...

 Yes!  Kids being kids and running down the hill on their own accord.  

Can anything make you feel more alive than a sight like this?

 I love the running water.  What was frozen is melting, moving and sharing life again.  

Everything that has been frozen in death will be alive once more...

 All my kids are in this fun picture.  Yes, in  treasured moments like these the future is definitely brighter...

 I love the white snow on the ground and white clouds in the sky!

 That is me SMILING on the anniversary of my Daddy's death.  I can do that because he's taught me well (and still is) that life goes on and on...

 On the way home the kids started spontaneously clapping to a blue grass, pioneer-style instrumental version of "We Thank Thee Oh God For A Prophet."  It reminded me of the Civil War and Mormon battalion reenactments Daddy enjoyed.  I know he would love this song and their clapping to it!

 I had to stop and get a picture of these Canadian geese.  The first real report I ever wrote was about Canadian Geese.  I still remember going over it with my Dad and learning how to edit and rewrite!  It was such a learning experience and I think of that first experience of learning how to write every time I see a Canadian goose.  I know he used to remember the same thing when he saw them too.

 As I was doing dishes, the colors outside my window caught my eye.   Just like last year, Daddy painted the sky for me.  I took these pictures from my backyard while standing on a cold patio chair in my socks- but it was worth it!  Maybe someday I will edit out all those wires, poles and that fun, uneven fence!  But even without doing that, it's breathtaking.

 It feels good to know we have made it through a year without Daddy here with us the way he was before.  I miss him, but I know he is doing wonderful things in incredible places.  I feel him close to me all the time, especially as I watch my kids enjoying this beautiful world.  Life is ever changing.  Kids grow.  Seasons change.  Spring comes again.  And Daddy, well, he is having his own changing, growing and spring in the next life.  I am happy for him.  And I am happy to be here with my children and husband, changing and growing too...ready for spring.  Love, Eva  

Melting Down and Standing Back Up Again

We went to a holiday arts activity at WSU last month and even though they are smiling here, it was not all fun.  My little Sophia had a "moment."  I like to call it this because really, we ALL have them.  "Moments."  Adults may gossip when they are frustrated.  Maybe it means venting on Facebook or indulging in that quart of ice cream.  We all have our own ways of throwing "acceptable" tantrums in society.  But for her poor little body and overstimulated brain a "moment" means completely falling apart at those ever fragile seams. "I don't know what to do!" "They're looking at me!" "I just want to give up!" These are some of the things she yells and it is heartbreaking.  I hurry her away from the other kids who are looking scared, and tell Michael to keep an eye on his brother, then she collapses in the corner.

I try to hold her but she won't let me.  How can this sweet little face not want me to hug her? How can this social sparrow feel like "there's too many people in the room"?  How can the same little hands that drew this bunny and Christmas tree now be clenched in fists, as she sits on the cold floor, sobbing?

 

I take a deep, slow breath and demand she does too.  I don't want her feeling like this, like she's a failure.  I won't let her.  She refuses.  Then she agrees to try the breathing but does it fast and quick to get it over with.  So much for that.  So we go through the next steps.  Rest.  Water.  Food. Processing mentally.   Luckily the WSU Art Department had a great array of snacks and bottled water.  First I convince her to drink some  water.  Then I manage to split a banana with her.  I take a bite and then she will, back and forth back and forth as we both sit on the linoleum, criss-cross applesauce.  I keep an eye on my other two at a distance, grateful they are behaving and we have some friends from the ward who are here as volunteers to help keep an eye on them.  

Then Sophia and I process.  We talk about how if she gives up and we leave now we will both feel sad for what she missed.  But if she tries again, with help, she will be successful.  I have to explain this about 4 times, during which I misunderstand her, accidentally finish off the banana and she is in tears again.  I take a few more slow, deep breaths.

But then something amazing happens.  We both stand back up again.  And, together, we finish what she started.

Being a parent is never easy.  Neither is being a child.  Yet, God has asked us to be both.  No one is born able to walk.  We try.  We fall.  And we stand back up again.  That is His plan.  It is what makes us stronger.  Throw a special physical, mental or emotional need in there and things get even trickier.  But the victories are also that much sweeter.  They really are.

It is truly humbling to be the mother of my kids.  Their challenges and frustrations bring me to my knees before my Heavenly Father as I ask Him "How am I supposed to handle this?" and I search my heart for answers.  I'm grateful not every moment is like this.  But I AM grateful these moments are there because they show me we BOTH CAN get up again.

Love,
Eva

"30 Memories of Daddy"

My Dad would have turned 55 last Monday if he were still living.  It's amazing how much peace and calm you can feel when you know someone has lived an incredible, worth-while life and that they are continuing to do great things in the next chapter of existence.

7 years ago my sisters and I collaborated on a birthday present for Dad called, 30 Memories of Daddy.  Even with his illness he worked hard interviewing, scanning pictures and slowly typing up histories of his parents.  The Mom Book and The Dad Book were the fruits of those labors, so we decided he needed his own book.  Each of us contributed 10 memories or lessons we learned from Dad.  Here are mine...

Dear Daddy,

Happy 48^th Birthday! Thank you for spending it in my boring apartment, so I could enjoy your sweet company on your special day. I'm honored! :)

Since this will be the first year your 3 girls are out of the house, I thought I'd share with you some lessons you're taught me through the years and reflect on some especially wonderful moments. You've definitely been one of the key people in helping me grow my roots and wings. I wanted to make sure you knew...

1. Two of the greatest lessons you've taught me were when I was only 5 years old, but I still use them daily. One is that we don't have to correct others when we notice they've done something wrong. If you hadn't taught me this, I probably wouldn't have had many friends. Instead, you encouraged a sensitive, encouraging, humble attitude towards learning. Your influence has made me a better teacher.
2. I also remember you telling me that teachers make mistakes and that there would even be times I would be smarter than the teacher. This idea pushed back the limits that educators, friends, or even I had previously set for myself. I felt empowered. Thank you for erasing those boundaries and always sitting in the front row of my education, emotional growth, and life's performances.
3. One of the favorite nights of my life will always be the Civil War Ball. I didn't have the fanciest dress and I didn't know all the traditions or historical customs the other girls did, but I felt like the luckiest one there. You helped me have fun. Your lighthearted attitude, the way you spun me as fast as you could around and through the other dancers, it all helped me feel confident and classy. Everything about that night was magical and comfortable at the same time. I guess that's how I'd define a true, loving father-daughter relationship: magical and comfortable at the same time. Safe but still rushing- like being thrown into the air so high but always having the safety of strong arms to land in and hold you. Thank you for that night and for twirling me every day of my life.
4. I wish that I could take credit for being a high achiever. But now that I've been on my own, I know that I don't naturally accomplish a lot without proper motivation (i.e. the grade, award, public recognition, a scoop of Baskin Robbin's ice cream...) Thanks for helping me set high goals, not because I needed to compete with others, but because I was capable of reaching that high. You have always been a great example of living life to its fullest.
5. “Books are our friends.” If I ever do get published, become famous and have a blog people read regularly, I know this quote from you will be on my homepage. From how to physically treat them to how to absorb their knowledge, you have been an example of respecting and seeking out truth. Thank you for this priceless gift.
6. You helped me find my femininity without losing a sense of adventure and play. Thank you for helping me see how these two sides intertwine. From the Roll-up game to wearing appropriate clothes to church, you showed that there is a time and a place for everything and helped me see the difference.
7. Another moment I'll eternally be grateful that you were there beside me was when I missed my flight to SVU. I was so scared. Life was ready to keep moving, but I wasn't. Thank you for helping me “stick with the plan” that eventually led me to my wonderful, sweet husband. For that act alone, I owe you all my happiness.
8. It may sound funny, but thank you for respecting animals and teaching me to do the same. Whenever I saw people squishing ants or torturing worms, I knew you wouldn't agree with their actions because you saw all of God's creations as having value (even the mosquitoes in Bolivia.) It's funny, but that little truth affected my decisions of whom I dated. If a guy thought messing with animals was funny, he was not for me, because I knew you wouldn't do that.
9. Without you I might never have listened to Queen, Elton John, Fleetwood Mac, Kansas, Boston, John Taylor, or Cat Stevens. I probably would not appreciate Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Without you I may have gone my entire life without reading The Hobbit or Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now? If you hadn't been my Dad, I might never have learned about Mole Day. Thank you for opening my eyes to so much good stuff.
10. I think the most important lesson you've taught me is to never make the same mistake twice. Learn from it. Change. And keep trying. I remember the first school report I lost to the abyss of accidentally deleted computer files. I remember sitting on the edge of your bed in tears, looking at the blank computer screen as you explained why I needed to save more often. You said the report would be easier to write the second time (which it was) and that I hopefully wouldn't let it happen again (I haven't.)

It was in that same spot on the edge of the bed that we watched each other play Tetris, I saw you studying for school and when you once spoke to me about making decisions. That year Halloween fell on Sunday. You said you had taught me right from wrong and had let out a little bit of rope that couldn't be taken back. Even though I didn't like it, it was my turn to decide how to spend the holiday. I knew you respected me because you let me make my own decision.

Many times since then I've figuratively sat on the bed of indecision, weighing the arguments of both sides, trying to choose. Thank you for teaching me all you could and helping me learn how to teach myself. Thanks to you, I'm never perched too long. I've been given the tools I need for this life. You've taught me, encouraged me, strengthened me and I know that no matter what, you'll always walk beside me.

I love you forever.

Happy, Happy Birthday!

Love, #1

(We enjoyed watching Star Trek: The Next Generation together, so that's where the #1 reference comes from.)

Oh, Daddy, how you are missed!  But you are also so sweetly remembered.  I could easily write another 10 memories right now, and maybe sometime soon I will so I can always remember who I come from and my children can know you too.  Keep on having adventures and someday we will join you and make more memories together.

Love,

Eva  

The Secret to a Sweet Family Life? Just Add Lots of Frosting!

 I had pictures of this cake before frosting it, but now I can't find them.  Let me say though, they weren't pretty!  Not that the finished product is a work of art either (although I think it appropriately represents the chaos and fun of having 3 young children.)  But before the cake was a DISASTER!  I couldn't remember if I was supposed to let the cake cool first or try to flip it out of the pan while it was still hot.  I decided to try while it was still hot, and I ended up with a hot mess!

 The cake was in three, crumbly, odd-shaped pieces.  My husband walked in and smiled.  Probably partly because he had burned the pork chops that were supposed to be our anniversary dinner.  

Now it was my turn to be in the kitchen with my tail between my legs.

"Don't worry!  I can fix it," I said.  "I'll just add lots of frosting!"

Ricky Ricardo actually said the same thing in an "I Love Lucy" episode where he and Fred took on the housekeeping and cooking roles for a day.  My cake wasn't quite as flat as Fred's, but it still definitely needed some help to get pieced back together...

and LOTS of frosting.

I couldn't help but think about that as I worked on getting it ready for our family anniversary celebration.  There have definitely been moments when I felt like our lives were just as unstable as that cake.  That everything was crumbling, falling to pieces, and not turning out at all how I'd planned.  There were days (my friends really know) that I just wanted to give up and throw everything I'd worked on, this shaping of a family, away.  

Just like there was a moment I thought about tossing that cake out too!

 But then I thought about my kids.  I thought about how much they were counting on me.  I thought about how much they wanted to enjoy these moments together.  I thought about how much we had worked for and what we had to look forward to.

And I couldn't give up.  

I couldn't ever believe in giving up on them or on me or on that cake!  When we are breaking down all we've ever needed was more frosting.  More sweetness in life.  More love.  More kisses.  More caring.  More cutting loose and letting go.  More laughter and fun.  All of these things smooth over the gaps from our lack of understanding each other.  It hides the messes we are as imperfect, selfish people and helps us enjoy our experiences together more fully.  This "frosting" of life is the crazy, passionate, love that looks at a crumbly mess and gives it all it has to make it a beautiful, delicious, treat.

  

 I am proud to say we have definitely worked hard and EARNED this badge of 10 years of marriage.  10 years of forgiving.  10 years of compromising.  10 years of laughing.  10 years of sacrificing.  10 years of sharing.  10 years of learning to put the other, and then 3 others, first.

10 years of living with our hearts wide open and vulnerable, because that is what true love is.

And it has been a wonderful 10 years.  Worth celebrating, recognizing and sharing with our children.

 I love reliving this cake-feeding-wedding moment each year.  Look at the expression on Sam's face.  It's precious.  It's priceless.  It's what the security and joy of our marriage has created.  We aren't perfect at it.  But with enough "frosting", it's enough.  

It's enough for him.

 Look at Michael's smile.  His cheeks are bursting he's so happy.

 And my Sophia.  I hope more than anything that I am showing her that even though choosing to have a family means ups and downs, means putting others first, it also means a LOT of happiness.

 It's hard to imagine my life any other way.  I am so blessed.  And it's important I see that.  I want my husband to know I am thankful for him.  I want my kids to know they are blessings to me.  I need to remember how lucky I am, so in those not-so-sweet moments I can choose to show more love.  I can give them extra hugs.  I can remember sometimes we just need to add LOTS more frosting.  Love, Eva

A Perfect-Enough Fit

I went to the temple recently and had a minor clothing fiasco.  In case you don't know, temples are places of worship for Latter-Day Saints.  We enter in Sunday dress, but change into white clothing inside for the actual meeting.  (The white clothing represents purity and reminds us of Jesus Christ's atonement, that allows us all to be clean from sin.)  While in the women's locker room ready to change I realized I had forgotten to check what clothes I had in my bag.  I did have white clothes, but not my more comfortable outfit.  The only ones in my bag were the ones I purchased when I first got married, about 20 lbs ago.  

I knew my husband was getting changed in the men's locker room and would be waiting for me in the chapel.  I also knew that unless I fit into the clothes I wouldn't get to attend the meeting with him.  It had been months since we had had an opportunity to attend a meeting like this together so I decided to go for it and do my best to make the fitted blouse and skirt wearable.  I won't go into all the  details, but suffice it to say I got it on.  The skirt was fine, although definitely up around the highest, smallest part of my waist (think Urkel.)  The shirt's zipper was an about an inch and a half from completely closing...I did my best to keep my back to the wall. LOL  

I didn't let that stop me though.  I wanted to be there in that meeting to learn and be uplifted and I wanted to be there for my husband.  Was my outfit tight and super unflattering?  Yes.  But that's OK.  It was a perfect-enough fit.  I had modest white on, and that was the only real requirement.  And I was grateful I had that clothes!  I didn't have to look like a cover model.  I was able to attend the service and be there with my husband.  The fit got the job done and as a result I got my job done of getting to be in the temple, with my husband and serve.

My hubby and I recently celebrated our 9 year wedding anniversary, which is why going to the temple was so important to us.  We were married in a temple.  But we are kind of an odd couple, because we are very different.  In fact, when we announced our engagement some people were surprised.  We didn't exactly hang out with the same crowd.  We didn't have the same hobbies.  One of our first fights was about how he could clean better than I could (Yes, newly-engaged Eva actually complained about that...)    

 I was raised in a loud, crazy, affectionate Hispanic home.  He had a more reserved, mid-west upbringing.  I grew up hearing my parents blast Queen, ABBA, Kansas and Elton John.  He grew up listening to records of classical music played by world renown musicians...none of which I can name, though I do recognize their pictures from their cameo appearances on Sesame Street.

  I would choose a witty comedy over an action-flick any night, but thankfully I did learn how to appreciate explosions and gunfire so we can enjoy movies together.  I love books but usually get distracted when I try to read.  Luckily Chad is great at reading aloud and read ALL the Harry Potter books aloud to me, even with ALL my questions, since I can't remember what happened a page ago and he can remember what happened 3 books ago.

  

But we disagree on important stuff too.  There are times after a long day at work he wants to have a calm night, home as a family.  I whine and then tend to want to order pizza and turn even an evening home into a party.  There are times I think he's too strict.  There are times he thinks I'm too lenient.  He doesn't want the kids to get hurt but I want to let them climb the trees and act like the monkeys they are...but then I forget to watch them.  I want to let the kids play and get messy.  He's sometimes more worried about the mess, probably because he knows he will be cleaning up more of it than I will because I will have become distracted by the next fun thing I'd rather be doing.

But we've found ways to make it work.  He's incredibly good at saying he's sorry.  Seriously.  He could give a seminar on it.  I need to work on that more.  If he ever does a seminar on apologizing I will definitely attend.  I am very good at forgiving though.  And at wanting to try again.  And at giving amazing back rubs, so we work things out.  Our love for each other outweighs everything else.

Are we a perfect fit though?

Maybe it sounds terrible to say no.  But I would be lying if I said yes, just like anyone else who believes they are "perfect" for someone else.  No matter what, people are different and will disagree about something.  If you think "perfect" is never fighting, good luck!  What matters is how you disagree.  I love seeing older couples differ in opinion but just smile and go on anyway.  It only gets them so ruffled and then it's over.  They don't let it interfere with their job of being married, of being together.  They are together regardless of how they fit because they love each other.

 We are what I call a Perfect-Enough Fit.  We've learned how to tolerate most of what annoys us about the other, and just let it go.  I can get over the fact that he leaves the fingernail clippers out on the bathroom sink instead of putting them back in the cupboard.  Definitely.  Especially when he overlooks the laundry I get behind on, even when the mound of clothes I've "forgotten" is visibly taking over our bedroom.

 Even the bigger challenges we've faced (some of which I haven't even written about because they are too personal) are mountains we are moving shovel by shovel, day by day, as we work on growing closer to each other.  To be completely honest, even though we just had a disagreement last night, I think we are finally hitting our Honeymoon Phase!    I never felt like we had that happy part early on in our marriage because I was such a crazy woman from the beginning.  The birth-control I took early on threw my moods all over the place and then a year later babies started coming and again my hormones were all out of whack.  But now, 2 years after the last one, I'm starting to feel like myself again and act like the Eva he dated, albeit smarter and more mature (hahaha!)

I guess what I'm trying to say (or write) is that sometimes "perfect" is just showing up.  It's getting the job done.  And there's nothing wrong with that.  That's great.  It's not about never having different opinions.  I'm happier that we can disagree and get past it than I would be if we just never disagreed at all.  I'm glad I have a husband that has an opinion and will let me speak mine.  I'm glad we've found our own ways to compliment each other's personalities.

  And like that white shirt and skirt that still allowed me to attend the temple, even though it didn't fit absolutely perfectly, I am so grateful I have my marriage.  It's not always flattering to see myself as a wife or mother, it doesn't always bring out my best side.  But with the Savior's help I can keep working on myself and my relationships.  Chad and I are a Perfect-Enough Fit and there is still room to grow.  And I hope I get to do that for many more years to come.

'Till Tomorrow!  Luv, Eva