I Like Shiny Things

My dad is good at a lot of things. I mean, A LOT of things. Today we'll just call him SUPER FLOOR MAN. We all joke about the lists of things we have for my dad to do in each of our respective lives...because we wouldn't want him to be bored, of course. My list is very real. It consists of home improvement projects, mostly, and golf with Jeron and skiing with Jadee. My dad is a good sport...AND he loves his kids. So, today we started on my list. I think this particular project was first because originally it was Mom's idea. Mom had a list of her own, mind you. Dad is working on that one, too. Maybe this project is a way to cross one off of two lists?

"One of these days Dad will have to come and do your floor," she said. "Do your floor" was her way of saying scrub it crazy, slop on the shiny and make it sparkle. Dad is a retired facility manager (among other things). So, he has access to fabulous professional cleaning products, and I am the beneficiary of his connections and know-how.

Tonight we scrubbed the floor crazy: ammonia and water with the floor scrubber, Magic Eraser, wash cloth on hands and knees, one more scrub and some water extraction with the Hoover, a dry mop, and a little more elbow grease on the tough spots and we had one clean floor...I don't think it was that clean when we moved in!

Tonight Dad slopped on the shiny: pour on the Vectra, push it around with a dust mop, let it dry, do it again. Very shiny floor...you can see the difference in the picture...he's GOOD, no?

Oooo...how it sparkles! So, Dad "did the floor" and Mom and I each checked an item off of our lists. I feel like inviting people over just to see my floor. It's so SHINY! Thanks, Dad! I L.O.V.E. my floor!

Next on my list: Cupboards for the Laundry Room

"You only live once,"

said the dad as he shot whipped cream directly from the pressurized can into his son's eagerly waiting mouth. Pure delight.

I could hardly disagree.

It made me think of my mom. I know that if she'd known she was only going to live to be 59 years old, she would have taken more vacations. Not the big, save-for-years, Disneyland, European cruise variety, but the smaller, closer, be-with-your-family, take-them-more-often kind. I know because she told me. I was interviewing her for a book about her love story with my dad, and that was one of the things she learned in 40 years of marriage.

I am happy to report that my mom got to take a few vacations, both big and small, in her last years on earth. The big ones were Hawaii and Florida. The small ones were mostly to Utah...half the grandkids lived there for quite a while. Any time she could be with her kids and grandkids...no matter where it was...was a vacation for her. We did our best to make her treatments at Huntsman Cancer Center in Utah a bit of a vacation...that would be a small one. She went to the Children's Museum with all of the grandkids, the Museum of Ancient Life and Clark Planetarium. She went for the births of the grandbabies, Robbie's graduation, and to be the grandma. I guess she learned her lesson well.

Cancer is a forgiving disease in one way...it allows you time (not always a lot, but some) to do and say the things you might not have otherwise. I learned to cherish every day I had with my mom, even the bad ones. I learned to be aware of the things I said and did and the memories I created with her for myself and my children. Because of my mom and all that she went through and all that she taught me along the way, it's easier to let the dad shoot the whipped cream, because he's living and creating a memory...a pretty fun one, at that.

Our days are numbered...problem is, none of us knows what our number is. So, what will you do today? You'll only live it once...

Love & Blueberry Pancakes

Happy Valentine's Day...a little early and late! Early because we actually celebrated with the kids on February 13, as Jeremiah and I were in CA on February 14. And late because I am slow to post this post!

We always have a special meal on Valentine's Day with the kids.
This year it was breakfast...fresh blueberry pancakes with whipped cream, to be exact.
They were a real hit with Davis!

Valentine's Day is one of my favorite holidays...EVER! One of the reasons I have been pondering this year is that it is such a personal holiday. By that I mean that there is no third party to give credit to...no Santa Claus, no Easter Bunny, no neighbors giving out candy, etc. It's all about MY LOVE and how I spread it around to ALL the people I LOVE! Not that I want all of the credit...I just like to express love and appreciation in fun ways and know that those I am loving know how much I love them. Think about it...I'll bet you agree!

Rita Jean Mellor Heywood

May 28, 1949-January 30, 2009

There are not words to adequately describe the love and gratitude that fill my heart to overflowing for all that my mom is to me. She is my mom, my friend, my example, my rock, my listening ear, my compass, my #1 fan, my teacher, my children's #1 grandma, my husband's favorite mother-in-law. She is the woman I most admire. She is the person I desire to be like. If I had to choose the one thing I have been most grateful for throughout my life, it is the sure knowledge that she loves me unconditionally. I know of no greater gift a mother can give her child.

Thank you, Mom, for the eternity of love and teachings you were able to pack into 36 years. I will make you proud. 'Til we meet again...I love you.

Kids & Vacuums

My children have had a hate/love relationship with vacuums. I put "hate" first because they have all hated the vacuum before loving it. They were afraid of the noise, the movement, people chasing them with it... At some point in each of their short, little lives, no one knows exactly when or why, they have all come to love the vacuum...to the point of fighting over it. Davis hated the vacuum until today. Today I asked Jadee if she would like to help vacuum and Davis was the one to go find it and drag it to the living room. I must say, for a twenty month old, he did a pretty good job!
Of course, Jadee insisted on a turn, too. I didn't get the picture of Davis hitting her and trying to pull her away from the vacuum while screaming his little lungs right out of his body. However, I did get this one...oh, the tragedy of having to put the vacuum away! You can see the cord clutched in his little hands, tears tumbling down his little face. It was a sad time!

It's Great to be 8!

Jeron is turning 8 this August and will be baptized on September 5th. Tonight we attended "It's Great to be 8!" Celebration put on by the Primary (oh, yeah, that's me ;)) He has been so excited to go. I send out personal invitations to each of the kids...so they get a little mail! I think that adds to the attendance...personal mail, you know. On our way there I asked if he was excited. "YES!"

Me: What are you most excited about?

J: Getting baptized.

Me: Did you know that Grandpa will be there tonight?

J: No. SA-WEET!

Pause

J: I wish Grandma could come, too.

Me: Me, too. But she'll be thinking about you.

It was a great program. Grandpa shared his helicopter story to illustrate the comforting power of the Holy Ghost. If you've never heard it, you might want to ask him to tell it to you sometime. He told the same story at my baptism almost 28 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday...leastwise the story and the feelings. Thanks, Grandpa! You did a great job!

Grandma has sewn comforter blankets for the kids for me since I was called as Primary President. Even though she's so, so sick, she still pulled through this year. The kids all loved them and many even remembered to say thank you! I know this will be Jeron's most special blanket. Thank you, Grandma! The blankets are beautiful!

Jeron is so excited to turn 8 and be baptized and be a Cub Scout! He is such a good boy, very tender and thoughtful. We are so blessed to have him in our family. We love you, Jeron!

Noodles & Mommy Sainthood

Not only have I departed the road to hell, I believe I may have just embarked on the path to Mommy Sainthood. Anyone out there ever made homemade turkey noodle soup with the help of three children, ages 1 to 7, without strangling or maiming even one of them? Okay, "help" may be an overstatement. Tonight, I did. It was truly a miracle...one of the qualifications of Mommy Sainthood, I'm sure. There were a few tense moments...but we all came away from the experience unscathed. If any of you would like to verify this miracle, please feel free to come on over, try some soup, and examine the children.
P.S. Don't let the nice photos fool you...between the seven-year-old cutting the turkey with a butcher knife, the three-year-old stirring the boiling pot while perched on a high chair and the one-year-old hanging on my legs screaming for some attention whilst I cracked eggs and added flour...I know there is a miracle in there somewhere!