Hope Defined

"...real hope is much more than wishful musing. It stiffens, not slackens, the spiritual spine. Hope is serene, not giddy, eager without being naive, and pleasantly steady without being smug. Hope is realistic anticipation which takes the form of a determination—not only to survive adversity but, moreover, to “endure … well” to the end (D&C 121:8)."
-Elder Neil A. Maxwell

For this infographic I thought triangles was a great way to illustrate how proximate hope vs ultimate hope. Proximate hope has a limit, therefore will come to a point. Ultimate hope on the other hand has the ability to grow and expand.


In my thoughts regarding hopeful things and becoming a more hopeful person, I have discovered not all hope is created equal. Although I feel it is rooted in the same innate desire--just like our desire to be happy--you eventually see a divide in the definition and are left with two "types" of hope. 

The more I study and think about this subject the more strongly I feel its power and how entangled it is with our individual happiness and fulfillment. However, in order for us to discuss how we do that, the two types of hope must be clearly defined. 


Proximate Hope

If you think about it, there is a difference between the hope you feel when you want a certain team to win a game versus the type of hope (or lack thereof) when you consider your purpose and place in life.

After reading Elder Neal A Maxwell's talk "Hope Through the Atonement of Jesus Christ", he defines the former as a "proximate" hope. 

"Our everyday usage of the word hope includes how we "hope" to arrive at a certain destination by a certain time. We "hope" the world economy will improve. We "hope" for the visit of a loved one. Such typify our sincere but proximate hopes."

Essentially, our proximate hopes are based on trivial things and temporal things. Now, the negative side of proximate hope doesn't lie within the fact that they're based on trivial and temporal things. Heaven knows the value I place in hoping to decorate my home or hoping to learn how to plant a garden this spring. In fact, I believe our ability to have these proximate hopes plays a huge part in our ability to find joy in this life. 

The negative aspect of proximate hope is that it has the ability to fail us. It's undependable and contains elements of uncertainty. You're favorite team will eventually lose. Friends and family will inevitably let you down, and frankly, I don't know what to tell ya about the economy, but I don't think it's lookin' good! 

I remember as a young girl, identifying with the character Anne Shirley from Anne of Green Gables. Being someone who had a tendency to get her hopes up way too easily (I think adulthood has managed to mellow me out a bit) I loved Anne's response to Marilla after she calls her out for constantly getting her hopes too high. Anne replied in dramatic fashion, "I know. I can't help flying up on the wings of anticipation. It's as glorious as soaring through a sunset...almost pays for the thud." 


And that's the thing about proximate hope, it's as glorious as it is easy--but there is always the inevitable thud. And unless that thud is backed by another type of hope, it's that failing that can get us into a lot of trouble. 

Aside from the natural and obvious increase in despair, a lack of hope can quickly breed into a selfish "yolo" (I believe thats what the youngsters are calling it these days) sort of lifestyle. About this matter Elder Maxwell said,

"Nevertheless, because proximate hopes are so vulnerable to irony and the unexpected, there is an increasing and profound sense of existential despair in the world.

"When hope is stripped away, Paul noted this tendency for some to eat and drink, reasoning that “for to morrow we die,” driven by the erroneous conclusion that “when a man [is] dead, that [is] the end thereof” (1 Cor. 15:32Alma 30:18)."
"...Viewing life without the prospect of immortality can diminish not only hope but also the sense of personal accountability (see 1 Cor. 15:19Alma 30:18)."

"No wonder the subsequent loss of hope almost inevitably sends selfishness surging as many, resignedly, turn to pleasing themselves. 

The last time I checked, despair and selfishness have never made anyone happy.

Which is why this soaring hope must be rooted. Rooted into something that will not fail us. 



Ultimate Hope 

This is where real hope or what Elder Maxwell refers to as "ultimate" hope comes into play. This type of hope provides the foundation we need to proximate hope because it's placed in someone who will not fail us. 

That someone is Jesus Christ. 

"Ultimate hope is a different matter. It is tied to Jesus and the blessing of the great Atonment, blessings resulting in the universal Resurrection and the precious opportunity provided thereby to us to practice emancipating repentance, making possible what the scriptures call "a perfect brightness of hope" (2Ne. 31:20)...Real hope, therefore, is not associated with things mercurial, but rather with things immortal and eternal!"

Simply put, Jesus Christ is the only being that has ever existed throughout the history of this world who will never let us down. 

Therefore, we don't want to ever let Him down. Hence, a sense of personal accountability is created. 

This increases our desire to be righteous, expands our faith and allows us to see good while enduring the bad, which in turn creates more hope. A cycle that starts from putting our hope in Jesus Christ ends with the creation of more hope.   

Perhaps I'm oversimplifying here. I remember sitting in my Physical Science class in college listening to my professor elaborate on Newton's Law of Gravity. Ok, so what goes up must come down. Pretty sure I got it. In fact--um...duh. I'm also pretty sure if I had been born in the middle of the seventeenth century, I'd like to think I could've come up with that observation and it would be Jasmine's Law of Gravity we'd be studying right now. 



Then my professor throws on the board something that looks like this: F=G(m1m2/r2)+*&{~!@#$}aasdfjlkj and somewhere between all the talk about bodies being directly proportional to masses, I realized maaaybe--just maybe--my Seventeenth Century self wouldn't have been that smart. 


Although, me telling you to "put your hope in Jesus Christ" sounds as simple as "what goes up must come down" in truth the matter at hand is far more phenomenal than that. Bestowing our ulimate hope into a Savior who, helps us become better people all for the sake of our personal happiness--is truly miraculous.

One must realize that lumping hope into one, general idea doesn't work. There are different types--and you must know which type you're aiming for in order to move forward with hope on your side.

Easter 2014



Oh Easter weekend was a welcome sight this year. Not only was is it just wonderful all by itself, but it marked what I'm hoping is the end of my week as an invalid. After catching bronchitis and some delightful pink eye (an infection that I'm convinced was created soley to make you feel like the most unattractive thing on the planet) I felt like a walking plague. It never ceases to amaze me how easily I take my health for granted. And how all it takes is a little virus to make me cry out inside my head, in a very wo-is-me manner, if only I had my health! 

Even though I'm almost all better, I still nervously anticipating the fallout with these cutie pies, but fingers crossed, hands washed, prayers said, lets hope they hang on to their current states of health.


But as for now, we're enjoying a delightful Easter. We spent yesterday with my sister's fam and parents doing most of our festivities. We went to the Tulip Festival and then had a gourmet Easter feast a la my sister and her husband. Sooo tasty. Today, was more relaxed with Easter baskets and church. 


I also must mention a social media campaign our church started called #becauseofhim. It provided me an opportunity to ponder and then post my thoughts of my Savior and all that he has allowed me to do and be in this world. It made this Easter all the more special reflecting on my own thoughts and seeing the thoughts of others. 

Happy Easter!



Easter Time



Download free 8x10 image here.

It's 7:30 am and our house is quiet as a mouse. The only sounds I hear are the clicking keys on my laptop and the humming sound of my humidifier. It's a miracle none of my kids are awake yet--especially that sweet little boy. However, don't mistake my earlybird state as a sign of an industrious mother ready to take the Monday after Spring Break by the horns. Unfotunately, I'm much lamer than that.



We've spent the last couple of weeks battling mild colds bouncing from one person back to the next--however, nothing serious. Sadly, I woke up with a fever this morning and it seems the mildness is gone. During my sleeplessness, I couldn't help but dwell on the dozens of kisses I've liberally handed out to my family the last couple of days and will think it nothing short of a miracle if I haven't infected my entire family with this nasty illness right in time for all the Easter fun.


Speaking of Easter fun, I've been desperate for some Easter decor. All of my holiday decor is suffering in my efforts just to get my home decorated. My first idea was do to this really cute bunny bunting, with  little pom pom tails, but in the middle of me trying to finish it yesterday, my sewing machine quit on me. Just stopped. Not warning--nothin'. It was at this point I cut my losses and crawled in bed to take a nap. 

However, I do have one cherished item for Easter. I was lucky enough to get these marble eggs from my Grandma who passed away last spring. Aside from holding a lot of sentimental value, I just think they're SO cool.  To say I love them is a bit of an understatement.



I was inspired by their bright spring colors and knew I wanted some sort of Easter saying regarding Christ's resurrection. I initally thought "Christ the Lord is Risen Today. Alleluiah!" But then I saw someone use "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" and loved the simplicity of that statement even more. Plus, it makes me think of the song every time I look at it. 

I love Easter and all that it represents. Did you by chance see this video? It's so wonderfully done. I can't help but think no matter your religious affiliation it's something I find most people would appreciate. 

Happy Easter!



General Conference Weekend



I remember there being a gradual, but noticable transition from my young toleration of 8 hours of speakers to my ardent love for a weekend I enjoy more than most holidays. I know a huge part of this transition had to do with my mom. I knew it was something my mom loved and got excited about and so I wanted to love and be excited about it too. It went from thinking the one out of the four sessions (Sunday morning) that my mom required us to watch was sooo long and boring, to tolerating both Sunday sessions while coloring and doing puzzles, to my mom challenging me to actually trying to listen to what the speakers were saying, to working in the Saturday sessions while blairing them on every TV and every radio throughout our house while we did our Saturday morning chores. It was at this point I start catching phrases here and there that made an impact. 

It was soon after this, I was able to appreciate the knowledge and revleation given. And beside it being the opportunity to listen to prophetic counsel in today's confusing world, as a result, it became one of my most treasured traditions. 

I mean, seriously, sitting around with your family while listening to the celebrities of guidance and inspiration? It doesn't get any better that. 

On Sunday, we had my sister's family and parents over for the morning session. 

The kiddos colored...

all of us ate... (or mooched)...

these cute boys studied up on how to draw mystical creatures....

others of us just sat there and looked cute...

Penny was victorious in finding someone to scratch her arm...

And of course, puzzles (or assisting with puzzles)...

I'm so grateful for the opportunity to hear our Prophet and apostles testify of Christ and offer words of comfort and encouragement. If you missed it, check it out here. 



A Basket for Each Egg

Baskets of Africa being featured in March 2014's issue of HGTV Magazine

I was looking at the definition of a fetish. The one most familiar to us all, I'd say is: "a strong and unusual need or desire for something". But I couldn't help but smile when I read that another definition is: "an object that is believed to have magical powers" because my friends, I'm pretty sure magic is what I feel when I buy one of these baskets. 

As soon as I started to enjoy decorating, I noticed my love for baskets. It's a textile that can be equally beautiful as it is useful. I started collecting my favorites here and there, as they are quite easy and inexpensive to come by (another thing to love about them). So when my Aunt Lancy introduced us to the company, Baskets of Africa* I was transported to basket heaven. 

Now, you'll see many options and styles, but nothing feeds my fetish quite like their Ghana Bolga Baskets. Farmer's Market anyone? Seriously. Who doesn't love a Farmer's Market? Not only can you use them for, well, pretty much everything, but I think they're some of the most affordable on the site (especially for the size). And since they're one-of-a-kind their stock is constantly changing. Scrolling through their site has the same effect on me as does breathing in and out of a paper bag. I know it sounds like I'm trying to sell you on them, but I love them so much, these are actually things I think about daily...probably trying to justify to myself a reason to buy just one more...

Speaking of which, I actually came up with a reason to buy three of their baby-sized ones. It came when I was over on Etsy looking for some cute Easter baskets. (Since before now, my kids have been the ones running around at the Easter egg hunt with plastic grocery sacks). I almost felt a little stupid for not arriving at the conclusion sooner. I immediately forced Ryder and Penny to each side of my computer so they could pick out what "treat basket" they wanted. And a treat basket it shall be. For Halloween, for Easter, for Christmas, for Valentines...for St. Patrick's Day...I mean, I'm pretty sure every other day is a holiday that brings them home from school with some sort of treat and therefore a need for a decorative place to put those treats. Bam.

And there you have it. My name is Jasmine, and I'm addicted to Baskets...of Africa...of the Ghana Bolga variety.




*I must take a pause to talk about his company for a sec. Not that I haven't already--but just in case you love them as much as me (in which case, we should be friends)-- aside from having spectacular customer service (free shipping with every purchase and I have yet to have an order that takes longer than three days--usually less-- to arrive, even during the holidays) they are a Fair Trade company who offers African weavers sustainable wage, most of whom are women working to support themselves and their families. Each basket is also one-of-a-kind, so you're getting a unique piece of artwork with each purchase. And their affordable! (I remember eyeing similar baskets in shops in Sydney woven by Australian Aborigines and one basket the size of a breakfast bowl cost $80 AUD!) Sorry, the unpaid commercial is now over. 






Our Marilyn Monroe



It was no suprise to me that one day Hazel woke up from her nap with a strategically placed boogy beauty mark. It's something that just runs in the family...


I'm related to Marilyn Monroe

Don't believe me?

Niether did my A.P. U.S. History teacher in high school.

The lecture that day was on the iconic figures of the 1950's. It just so happened that I was sitting on the front row and as soon as I realized the informational article he was reading to us was about yours truly, I got so excited about my claim to fame, I blurted out, "I'm related to her!"

He laughed heartily and told me in front of the entire class that I was wrong. Now, despite what you may think, I really liked this teacher. I found his lectures interesting and his dry humor quite entertaining. And because in my efforts to convince him otherwise, he said, "Fine. If you can tell me what her real name is, I'll give you 400 extra credit points." Assuming, of course, I would never know such a random piece of trivial information like that.

Cool, calm and collected (well, that's how I remember it) I said, "Norma.  Jeane.  Mortensen."


My correct answer was confirmed. And I was able to enjoy a moment of sweet victory that would have been worthy of a narration from A Christmas Story's Jean Shepherd himself.  

Now, there are some who might say Marilyn's moral compass was off a few degrees, but there's not a woman on my mom's side of the family who would allow you to say a bad thing about our girl. We're loyal people by nature and that combined with the sympathy we have for knowing the difficulty it must have taken to become No. 1 in TV Guide's Films Sexiest Woman of All Time leaves us with nothing but a ridiculous amount of pride for this distant relation. 

I mean we're talking the sort of pride that prompted my sister, as a little girl, to attend a church primary activity dressed as Marilyn because they were supposed to go as their favorite ancestor.  (The primary president wasn't amused. My mom was. As are the rest of us to this very day.)

For despite her flaws (and Hollywood's overly tragic portrayl of her)--she was an icon. That's not something merely attained through talent, charm and beauty alone, but more so, I'd say, through her confidence and fearlessness. And I can't help but think there isn't a woman on Earth who wouldn't love thinking they have a little of that floating around in her gene pool. I'm pretty sure it was coursing through my veins that day in my history class, or the day my sister dressed up as her favorite ancestor. Or any other time my mom, aunt, cousins, sister or myself needed an extra boost of courage on or off a stage--it was there then too. 


Even though we are related to her through my mother's paternal side to her estranged father, Martin E. Mortensen, who Wikipedia told me that she denied him as ever having been so--I can't help but wonder what she would think of this distant branch on her family tree... 

I'd like to think she would be proud of us too. 








Lowering Expectations



Everytime someone raves about how good a movie is, it seems whenever I get around to seeing it, it's never as good as I was expecting. And the opposite applies as well. If someone says a movie wasn't that great, when I finally see it, I usually think hey, that was better than I was expecting! I've even come to prefer the lower expectations. 


My sad dayplanner that was falling apart before Hazel had her way with it. Not my most favorite Papersource product :(

And lately lowering expectations kind of sounds nice. Sometimes having high expectations can be exhausting. For example the other day I woke up tired and just knew it was going to be one of those days. So immediately I lowered my expectations. And what do ya know? Instead of noticing everything I didn't do I ended up rather impressed with the stuff I did do. And if given the option to feel awesome or not feel awesome--I'm going to choose to feel awesome. 

Now, there are days that deserve my best efforts to be better and there are some days that I'm just plum lazy. I think one of the hardest things to do as a mother is striking the correct balance between trying to do better and not being too hard at ourselves. Along with trying get everything done with the right priorities...with no one tellling you whether or not you're doing it right. 

Okay--so it's a tricky job sometimes. 


Which is why I'm thinking there's no harm in lowering my expectations a little more...or staying in bed to play on your ipad (obviously).

And by golly, if a movie is really, really good, tell me it was only mediocre!

Profile Silhouettes + Gold


So I'm totally diggin' gold lately. Deep down, I think I always have...

Now, where were we?

 I don't really remember whent the profile silhouette made a comeback in the interior design world, but it was one trend I was more than happy to copy. I think they are such a fun way to document a family in a home. Especially, when you have little ones who keep changing. I had first done these about 2 years ago when we first moved to New Jersey. However, there hasn't been an update since. I kept procrastinating because I knew I couldn't remember how to do them in Photohop so I'd have to go back to Youtube to sift through all the tutorials again to figure it out.

As it turns out, I was right. I had procrastinated for a really good reason. Not to mention doing Hazel's (from start to finish) was no picnic. Notice her mouth is open...because apparently it is ALWAYS open. Unless she's sucking on her pacifier...or doing her cute little kissy face, well then its in the shape of a kiss and I could totally deal with that....

(Let's vote. Who doesn't like my DVD's there?  Aye.)

Anyhow, where were we?

Oh yes, they were a little tricky to do for someone who is as inept as myself at Photoshop. Luckily, I didn't have to do Phil and I's. Until his hairline has receded enough to make a difference or until I've accumulated a significant amount of additional chins, we shall remain immortalized in our late-twenties. Or more importantly, me in my bangs. So that I may live vicariously through a hair-do that I have such a love/hate relationship with....

Now, where were we again?

Ah yes, but we got 'er done, printed them and popped them into their newly golden-plated (spray painted) frames and there we go. I kept going back and forth on the gold, but in the end I couldn't resist. And I'm happy I didn't. So there we have one more project crossed off the list and slowly with a few more wall arrangments and small changes, this room is almost where I want it.

Next on the list: My Living Room End Table Conundrum (that is, if I ever find a solution).


The Happy Stuff

 I took a little break to clean up the blog, host some visitors and nurse some sickies back to health (one of which was myself). We were having such a healthy January and February, but it seemed as though a couple of cold viruses wanted the last word before Spring gets here.

It has also been during these last couple of weeks my emotions have been on a bit of a roller coaster ride. Now, we're not talking "Colossus" size of roller coaster...more like "Puff the Little Fire Dragon" size of roller coaster. It was as though a mild case of the winter blues had been slowly building until it one day it hit me like a sack of bricks and I felt so agitated all the time. In the past I haven't found going off by myself isn't usually this monumentally beneficial thing for me--but this time it was! Thank goodness for a sweet, supportive husband, who let me have a few hours to myself over the last couple of Saturdays.

(Hazel Ane after her bath the other day.)

I wasn't a fan of how the whole thing snuck up on me. And so it was around this time, I was thinking more about what makes me happy. Which sounds simple enough, I mean there's the obvious things like my family, The Gospel... and shopping. But I was trying to be more specific. Like when I go to bed at the end of the day--what things have I done that day that make me feel fulfilled, productive and hopeful--because, by golly, staying in and watching my shows sometimes just doesn't cut it! 


So here are a few things I've noted:

-Going on walks. More specifically a walk to the park to let me kids play so we can all benefit from the sunshine and exercise.
-Reading. More specifically reading my scriptures, reading conference talks and good books that make me feel smarter.
-Doing small unexpected deeds of service. Something I need to be better at.
-Listening to talks from BYU Womens Conference while I'm getting ready.
-Vacuuming. I find it very relaxing and it requires me to clean my house. Although, I have to be careful with this one because Hazel has a tendency to get into some mischief while I'm vacuuming which isn't necessarily worth the trade for theraputic cleaning.
-Exercising. More specifically, exercising to be healthy. Exercising for any other reason actually has the opposite effect on me.
-Playing with my babies. I'm always feeling like if they're happy and entertained I should be cleaning the house or crossing things off my to-do list, but maybe all those Pinterest quotes have a point.
-Staying inside my budget. Painful, but true.
-Play dates! My favorites are the ones include the moms too.


After writing this, I know it all seems so obvious, but I can't help but feel like there's something to be said for conscientiously and specifically noting what makes us happy and fulfilled, because I never seem to have a hard time accounting for what makes me sad. And I'd much rather focus on actions that keep those blues at bay. Hopefully, I can master these and keep adding to the list.

What specific things make you feel fulfilled and happy or things you do to keep your blues at bay?

Love Sick

Happy Valentines Day! I'm not going to lie, it's been a long love day. It started at 5:30 am when Ryder came into my room crying because his ear hurt. After telling me he was feeling better a couple of hours later, I made him doctor appointment for the afternoon and let him go to school (I couldn't let him miss his Valentines Day party!)  


All the while we were planning to go visit my parents this weekend. But then a little bug also got a little tummy bug--and before I knew, it I was more worried about Hazel than Ryder.

 Ryder and Penny's Valentines this year. We put a little Hershey's kiss on their lips and called it a day.

I picked Ryder up and as soon I saw him said, "How are you?! I've been worried about you!" He laughes and says, "Why?" So, I was happy to see he was feeling better and thought well, at least the doctor visit will bring me the peace of mind knowing he doesn't have an ear infection.


As usual, Hazel leaving a trail of hugs and kisses wherever she goes.


Nope. 

He totally had one. 

It was at this point I delayed plans with my parents a little, which wasn't cool. And now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to go to sleep.





Creative Notes: The Cave

Do any of you have random, what some might consider decorative, alcoves in your house? There might be one in your entry way for perhaps a vase with some sort of stick thingys. Most commonly, I seem to find them above fireplace mantels, for what I think was originally intended for a television.

BUT.

WHAT IF I DON'T WANT TO PUT A TV OR VASE WITH STICK THINGYS THERE?!?!
The best "Before" picture of The Cave that I could come up with.

Obviously, we have one. Above our mantel. And its massive. I mean like 4 foot cube. We have come to lovingly call it "The Cave". And its been a decorative crux of epic proportions.



I mean what can you use this space for, if not for a TV? A statue perhaps? Ya know, since I'm really into statues. I even thought I could line the bottom with a mattress and make it a bed for when guests visit.



Realistically, I just wanted that thing covered.  However, I didn't want to invest a lot of money. We're renting right now, so not only can't I mess with the structure, but I don't want to invest my time and money on customizing something that I can't take with me when we leave this lovely home one day.



There were a number of different ways I could go about covering it. But I knew I was onto the solution when I  happened upon these huge mirrors at Hobby Lobby that were 50% off. A harmless committment that ended with me having fun shopping for a mirror. I was even hopeful, this would solve the problem entirely.

After placing the mirror. I loved the look but hated that I still had about 10 inches of The Cave showing on each side.

Something more had to be done.


I had a lot of "light" going on with the cream walls, mirror and white mantel, so I knew I wanted something darker with more texture, which quickly led me to dark, grainy wood. In order to make it slightly more interesting than a few boards hammered together, I wanted to add some sort of creative element to it. Nothing overpowering, so I thought the two-toned stain with a very simple aztec design did the trick. Plus, it ended up tieing in nicely with this IKEA rug I have in the room.



So far, I'm quite pleased. I decorate and re-decorate my mantel almost every day trying to figure how what combos work best for my new solution, so we'll see. In case I ever got sick of the aztec design, I thought it would be nice just to flip the panels over for a simpler look...buuuut I totally messed up the back sides, so that's not an option unless I want to make two entirely new panels. :)

 














Frozen Phenomenons


Let me guess. You thought I was going to talk about the mooovie, Frozen. Because, well, any movie's soundtrack that has the power to entertain pretty much any group of children for at least a half hour or more is a phenomenon in my book. I just try to ignore the fact that Penny's favorite line she keeps belting out on repeat is "that perfect girl is gone!"


No, no. I'm here to talk about a different frozen phenomenon.

On Martin Luther King Day, Phil had the day off, so we thought we would be good parents and take our young saplings out into the world for a fun and educational experience that would inevitably create lasting memories.

(Here, Phil had them get in some sort of slippery crater for a fun photo op)

We chose the Ice Castles in Midway. And although our hearts were in the right place, our ideal outing ended up being a little rough around the edges. I guess all in all considering, I'd give it a 6 out of 10-- which when you think about it, with three kids under 6, is pretty respectable. The ice was gorgeous. I just wanted to sit there and take photo after photo...and so did the hundreds of other people there.


Sadly, it was waaaay too crowded to enjoy its full potential. After waiting in line for a half an hour, we entered a mass of people walking around in what I can best descibe as deep ice gravel, many of whom were holding on to each other for dear life to avoid falling. Plus, I couldn't help but notice all the employees had helmets on...which really made me want to ask them if there was a chance that one of these ginormous icicles could fall on our head...but why ask questions we already know the answers to? And there is the possibility we could have dressed our children a tad bit warmer. But you live and learn, but in the end we were glad to get out of the house and see something you don't see everyday.




It's a Hopeful Thing: The 12th Man




Sorry for the poor quality: it's the only proof we have of our grand effort to scrounge up everything "Seahawks" for the the big game.

I don't really get interested in sports. (I suppose the exception to this is when Ryder is playing, and then something rises within my chest that if I'm not exercising extreme amounts of self control has the ability to turn me into a rabid dog. But I'm sure that happens to every parent). I especially don't get into sports on a professional level. The last time I remember being entertained by a professional sports event was the 1998 NBA playoffs between the Utah Jazz and the Chicago Bulls. Classic, right? (However, it was more by default really, because my brother and dad had monopolized the TV and if I wanted to watch something, I only had one option. Plus, I liked basketball. And I don't like to brag, but I even played a little basketball in eight grade.) But I especially don't like football. (I mean, where is the dang ball!? By the time I figure out which beastly man has it, the play is already over...and it leaves me feeling somewhat disgruntled).

And who did I marry? Sports-loving-fanatical Phil.


So while we're in our usual routine of trading episodes like Downton Abbey here for a game there, I can't help but pick up a few tid bits from my very informed husband. In the specific case of the Seahawks, anyone living in our house knew the Seahawks had a great chance of making it into the Super Bowl this year. So a few weeks ago, when the Hawks played the Saints, I thought I'd really stretch myself and try to be a supportive wife and sit down and actually watch the game with him. It was an exciting game...what was this feeling? Fun? Excitment? Did I just scream at the television screen? Nobody couldn't have been more surprised by this reaction than myself.

An identity crisis ensued.

As much as I tried not to care. I did. I mean, I had watched an entire game! And I watched the next. And before I knew it I was a Richard Sherman fan. It was at this point, I knew there was no turning back. I even got appalled that our local grocery store didn't have Skittles as one of their snack items in their Super Bowl Party promo display. Do these fruitcakes not know anything?



Along with the fun I had these last few weeks being a Seahawks fan--being proud I have ties to such a great city and my wonderful friends who live there, it was good to be reminded of a couple of things. As much as I'm a fan of the "it's just a game" mantra, sports (and perhaps some other things I don't always understand) end up being more important because they bring hope. And yes, I'm fully aware that I rode the coat tails of my 12th man fan--but I am glad I did and was grateful for something exciting and fun to drown out the weary doldrums of winter.

Way to go, Seahawks!

What Thirty Looks Like

So a couple of weeks ago I turned the big 3-0.

I have always been somone who has been hopeful and excited for her thirties. So why did I spend the first 15 minutes of my 30th birthday bawling like life as I knew it was over???

I have a couple of theories.

First off, my twenties were very, very good to me. I met and married Phillip. And had my three babies--which makes it more than easy to see why my twenties has been the happiest of my life (and that's coming from someone who has lived a very charmed life). So I think I found myself mourning the end of something I knew to be blissful instead of celebrating what I can only assume will be blissful.

My 20-year-old self dating that cute Phillip

Secondly, we're pretty sure we're done having kids. So when Phil showed me a picture of his co-worker's new baby, it was then my previously mentioned feelings collided with the fact I'll probably never bring another brand-new baby home and well, it was just more than I could take. I know this is something very specific to myself, as most women have children well into their thirties, but I can't shake the feeling that turning thirty marks the finality to a huge part of who I have been for the last decade.

And finally. It was past midnight. This wouldn't have happened if I had just gone to bed at a reasonable hour!

Unfortunately, these feelings followed me off and on throughout my day of grandeur. My mom called me and in the middle of her enthusiastic version of "You've had a Birthday, Shout Hooray!" (don't be jels--it's tradish), I started getting all emotional again. Thankfully, after talking it through with her, Phil, my sister, my visiting teachers and my dog (just kidding-- I don't own a dog.) I felt quite a bit better.  I mean, it's my birthday, I'll cry if I want to.

However, despite what I may feel in waves here and there, I remain quite hopeful and excited for my thirties. Above all, there are things I know no matter what. Most of which stem from my knowing I'm a child of a loving Heavenly Father. Because of that I know my worth. My worth as a His daughter and a woman. And I know my purpose and call as a mother. And it is because of that I am grateful for age--because it is now more than ever I know who I am.

What thirty looks like

For example:
-I still love turtlenecks. Always have, always will. (Did you see my picture?)
-I am content and fullfilled with being "just a mom". In fact, I couldn't imagine enjoying anything more.
-I'm adding to my fetish for handbags, scarves and baskets a fetish for oversized flannel pajamas. I just got these (in navy) for my birthday and I'm quite certain I need at least three more pair. And I think you do to for that matter. If I were Oprah, I'd give some to you.
-I spend an embarassing amount of time thinking about how I want to decorate my house.
-I cut my long hair a few months ago and although it's been fun... I kinda wish I hadn't.
-I love my home. When given the option, I usually choose or at least seriously consider staying-in. I mean--it does mean I get to wear my pj's.
-Driving will always scare me a little.
-I can run really, really fast--like record time fast--up my stairs and down the hallway whenever I hear one of my babies cry (especially if  I think my speed has anything to do with getting them to go back to sleep in a calm manner). Which is good. Since sometimes that's the only exercise I ever get.
-One of my most favorite things is when I make my husband laugh. Well, I like to make everyone laugh. But he's my favorite.
-I know I still have have so much learn... about myself...and pretty much everything else.
-This post ended up being really fun to write. Who knew talking about yourself could be so rewarding. My next post: Everything I Think I'm Good At.

Here's to thirty!  {Cheers! Cheers! Cheers. Cheers.}