Note the two new sites I just added to my "Cooking and More" section. Wow, there are some creative people out there. I think my cute niece Anna would enjoy and outdo any of these. Please don't think that I am suggesting that Anna is the only one who would or could do that--I know many of you could! But, I've seen what Anna can do and I haven't seen what most of you can do. So, there you have it. Check it out and see how you (any and all of you) can best these ideas. Bakerella and Sweet Designs by Amy Atlas Events. I know you'll get a kick out of them.

You know, I used to be creative, now I'm not. The best I do is fun things for my Cub Scouts, and they're generally outlined in the book for me. Well, now I guess sometimes I'm creative for my Primary chorister calling. I do try to be enthusiastic, even if I'm not very creative. The kids like enthusiasm. And I like the kids, so I try to accommodate. I've had two weeks off from Primary (General and Stake Conferences), and I'm a bit rejuvenated and ready to go back.

We are singing "Follow the Prophet" this year for the program. We have worked on several prophets--Adam, Abraham, Daniel, Jonah, and Noah. I think that's all. There are more verses listed, but I think 5 is a good number. However, I've written a verse to end with for President Monson. I don't take credit for the idea. Last fall at our stake meeting one of the gals from another ward had written a verse for President Monson, I faithfully wrote it down and promptly lost it. I asked the stake leader twice for the lady's name and then never could remember it when I got home. I even got out my old stake directory and tried to find her. I called people from her ward, but no one was ever at home. I finally decided that I'd be way to embarrassed to ask for the name again, so I wrote my own.

Thomas is a prophet, wants us to obey
Loves to tell us stories, help to show the way. (or: help show the Lord's way?)
Has a testimony, hopes we'll have one, too.
Follow our prophet, that's just what we'll do!

Okay, kind of corny, but here's the best part. I'll get some of the paper you put up on bulletin boards and we'll roll it out and draw a prophet. Either we'll just draw the outline or actually trace someone--probably just draw it because when you trace they never have a neck and it looks kind of dorky. Then I'll have the kids color him--our prophet--and write notes to him all over the paper. And, of course we'll write our verse to Follow the Prophet on it. Then we'll roll it up and mail it to President Monson. What do you think? I haven't asked the Primary President yet, so I hope she loves it because I'm excited about it.

So I think 6 verses of Follow the Prophet will be enough. The next song we get to learn is Come Follow Me (I think). I haven't decided which verses to do on that one yet. I don't think we need to do them all. There's one about the Holy Ghost, but I think they hymn is next, so we're well on our way. We still need to pass off He Sent His Son, but I'm going to keep using the pictures for the Jr. Primary. They're just having a hard time remembering. When we use the pictures, they do just great, and you know, there are some songs that are hard to remember. This is one of them; the lines are simply too similar.

We went to see Grandma this weekend. It was nice to be in the home where I grew up. I remember when I was a little girl going to see my grandparents. There was just this really cool feeling when we got there and walked into the house. I wonder if my kids feel that way. It's hard to describe--excitement, contentment, acceptance, peace, longing, nostalgia. I wonder if my grandkids will have those feelings.

We drive an older van and it does not have a CD player, but you can buy a car kit with a tape that hooks to your portable CD player and it works really well, until it wears out. Ours wore out so I bought a new one for the trip to Idaho. Dante was getting it all figured out, since it was different than the last one, and I finished my packing. After a little while I told him he needed to be done so the battery for the car wouldn't die. He finished. I even started the car just to make sure. A little while later I looked out and it seemed like the lights were on. But our lights turn off automatically after 5 minutes so I didn't worry too much about it. We packed, we were ready to go. Car wouldn't start. I couldn't believe it. Completely dead. No gauges, nothing.

I called Emily to see if she would come over and give us a jump start on our car. I called Corky. I called Wally, our resident mechanic. Wally didn't answer. Emily came. We did everything right. Nothing. Well we did get a little something because the gauges moved, but no engine turning over. I called Wally. I called Corky. Wally called back while I was on the phone with Corky, but I can't ever remember how to put someone on hold on my cell phone and I didn't know it was Wally. Oh my heck!

Corky reminded me that he bought a membership to AAA just for this purpose, so I called AAA and Wally called again. Finally I got through to Wally, he told me to go get his battery charger, which is huge by the way. I dragged the charger down the street, but no way was I going to hook that thing up without further instructions. Too many, "if this" and "if that" items that I didn't even know what they were talking about. Finally I get Wally and AAA shows up. So I'm talking to Nick from AAA and Wally from down the street at the same time. Wally says to use his charger because it's got more power and Nick decides to get his smaller one, which once hooked up, starts the car immediately. I scowled. Not that I wasn't thrilled, but hello. Emily and I did everything right and the car didn't start. Nick just looked at me and pointed at his name tag--it was because he did it. Fine. Wally hung up. Nick checked everything and deemed it good, shook my hand, checked my AAA card and left. Emily laughed when I cried--I was so grateful! Grateful for people who could help me. Grateful for a AAA membership, grateful for a wonderful friend who came to jump start my car and stayed by my side even though we obviously weren't helping the car. Grateful for Wally who said he was sorry he wasn't where he could have helped me. Grateful to Heavenly Father for somehow making this all work out. So yeah, I cried. Tears of joy and gratitude. I know, I'm a bawl-baby. And I think it's getting worse.

Dante got his wisdom teeth out today. This is #3 since the end of August. Taylor was the best coming out of the anesthesia. He was just quiet--Moni cried and moaned. But Dante--holy cow! That boy screamed and cried and was borderline hallucinating. I guess he was combative during the surgery so they had to give him another medicine to calm him down and they said that one is hard to come out of. Yup, they were right. He hollered and accused everyone else of yelling at him and being mad at him and hitting him (when we patted his legs). He'd point and say--you lied to me! You said I could go home! He kept spitting the gauze out of his mouth. At first it was kind of funny, but then it got obnoxious when he didn't quit. They finally came and told him he had to be quiet because he was scaring the other patients. They said he couldn't go home until he calmed down and then I think they changed their minds because they were anxious to get him out! Corky and a nurse practically dragged him to the car. He would calm down during the ride home and then start crying and hollering again.

He's doing well now, but seems to be still a bit sensitive to everything around him. He was so excited to have his wisdom teeth out--I think because of the promise of all the pudding you can eat. Somehow he didn't count on the pain. . .

He wanted us to film him (I think he figured he'd look like the kid on the little video), but he was too fussy so I didn't. So, sorry I don't have a funny film to show you of Dante on drugs. Tomorrow I'll get a shot of the chipmunk cheeks.

You should see all the yogurt and pudding I have in my fridge. Well, maybe not for long.

Okay, okay. I know I haven't written a thing for a very long time. Shame on me! But I've been busy! Do you even know what it takes to get a young man ready for a mission? I had no clue, but we did it. We survived the "gathering" process, and tomorrow Taylor will have been gone for three weeks. I can hardly believe it. I know I should have been posting during all the preparation time, but I've just really not wanted to write. I've had so many emotions going on that it's really kind of difficult to express what I'm feeling.

I have been so excited for Taylor to be a missionary. This is something that you dream about from the time your son is born. I was a missionary. Corky was a missionary. We've both wanted our children (daughters included) to be missionaries, to have those same experiences that helped us to grow. To have their testimonies refined; to have their very characters defined by the difficulties, joys and people they meet. There truly is no experience equal to a mission: to have to reach outside of your own little world, your own little self and seek for something greater.

But I will miss him. He is my son. He is my firstborn, my 4-1/2 pound baby who wasn't supposed to make it. But he did. And now he is doing what he has planned all along. To serve the Lord and teach His gospel.

Taylor and I spent a lot of time together since he came home from camp the middle of last August. Every single day of the week, every week, every month until he left on February 24, we were together for at least part of the day, just the two of us. We made list after list, we shopped, we ticked items of the list, and then realized we needed a new list. We had fun, we disagreed, and we enjoyed being together. We didn't disagree a lot, but I found this really cool hanger. He was supposed to take slacks--he had five pairs of pants. This hanger looked similar to this.

Do you see how useful this little item is? Five racks. Five pairs of pants. The hanger I saw had all racks with a rubberized material on them so the pants wouldn't slip, as well as it hooked on the side (this one is open), so they pants wouldn't slip off anyway. I thought it was a great find--$6 at Walmart. Taylor thought it was dorky. He wanted regular plastic hangers. Okay, if I were the one going on a mission, needed to conserve space, hang five pairs of pants--I would choose this one single hanger. Just think, when you needed to pack, you could probably even keep the pants on the hanger and just lay them in the suitcase. But I'm a mom. Do moms know anything? He didn't take my nifty hanger.

Taylor was supposed to leave on February 23 and fly straight to Brazil, but we were informed the week before that his visa didn't come. So, on Wednesday the 24th, we took him to Provo to the MTC. It wasn't as hurried as we had been told, but we just drove him up and dropped him off. We did all get out of the car and give him final hugs good-bye, which were strained because he was so anxious to go. He was nervous and ready. He had planned for this for years, and for this exact moment for four months. He was ready, but I don't think the rest of us were. We were standing there with tears in our eyes and he was all grins and moving on. Moving away. Moving to a new life. And we were left just standing there.

The next night, Thursday, it was amazing that I heard the phone ring. Ask my kids. I never hear my cell phone ring. Or if I do, I never get to it in time and have to return the call. My phone was in my purse in my bedroom. I was in the kitchen. My phone rang, I heard it and got to it in time. Wow. It was Taylor--he was given five minutes to make one call, one phone number. If you weren't there to answer, too bad. He didn't get another call. He was telling us that his visa had arrived and he was leaving the next Wednesday. Two other missionaries in his district got theirs the same day. It was so great to talk to him--he sounded so happy.

So we planned to go to the airport. Even though they suggested we not go the airport, we decided that we needed to. And I am so glad! It was what we all needed. Taylor was relaxed, we were more relaxed. It was great. There was a whole troupe of missionaries--about 25 of them, including a senior couple. Talk about the Army of Helaman. And my son was part of it. Taylor was second in line to have his baggage checked, so we had plenty of time to talk. See, look at us. We all look so much more relaxed and happy. Yes, we took the kids out of school so they could say good-bye to their brother, again. This was just nice. We followed along the lines with Taylor through the security checks. We stood back and let them all do their things, but we were just there. He kept looking back to see if we were there, and we were. At the very end, the group could go left, right or straight ahead where we would no longer be able to see them. He went straight ahead, but we stood kind of in a hallway where people were coming toward us. We could see for a minute, then he was gone. Taylor came back into view, stood there and waived. I missed it. Never look away! Corky said, there he is-did you see him wave? I almost cried. We watched for another minute, and he came back. He made sure I saw him waving. We all called out that we love him. Then I did cry. I was great until then, but it really hit me. My boy was a missionary and he was going very far away. And I love him! But it felt so good. All day long I felt good; I felt grateful, I felt blessed. I was so happy that he was willing and able to serve. I am still feeling it.

Today we received emails from Taylor, second P-Day in Brazil. It was really fun. I was home and called Corky to see if he'd heard anything yet and while we were on the phone, Taylor sent an email. So I hurried and logged on, and the three of us wrote back and forth for about 20 minutes. It was great. I did have to coax him into writing an actual letter. We kept getting cryptic responses to questions, but finally he wrote something that I could post on his blog. What? Have you not looked at his blog yet? Please do! I'm having fun with it, but am hoping for some more pictures, current pictures. These are already so out of date. Okay, so from here, you need to go his blog.

But again--I'm on a high! Being a missionary mom is very wonderful. I recommend it.

Fishing Charm--Grandpa's Hat

Jake sporting "the hat."

I can't remember if I talked about Jake going fishing while we were at the fair this fall. There is a little fishing pond and every year we look at it and there are too many kids or it just closed, or something. But we've never been able to fish. Well, we walked by, it said it was open, and there were no kids in there. The lady standing there wasn't acting like she was going to let us in, so I asked if it was open--of course I didn't see all the kids sitting down getting their fishing instructions. She said they were full, then looked around to see if anyone was watching and asked if it was just Jake. Yup. Just Jake. So--thank you dear woman--she let us in!

Jake got his fishing instructions and got to fish. He was wearing the hat Grandma let him choose--one of Grandpa's hats. Jake figured it had to be good luck since Grandpa was a good fisherman. We had a great time fishing. It was catch and release, which is perfect because what would I do with a wriggling catfish all the way home? I think they finally did that so people wouldn't leave fish stinking all over the fairgrounds. Or perhaps that's why it was always busy when we were leaving--everyone else was doing the same thing so they could take the fish right home.

He tried a couple of different spots around the pond.

He caught the big one! I'm sure he was grateful he didn't have to touch the fish at all. There were several Fish and Game guys around to do the dirty work and help the kids whenever they needed it. Makes for a happy mom, too.

Look at that happy face!

He actually has a big fish story to go along with this picture. He'll tell you sometime. . .