These are a few of my favorite things...

Mikenzie and her favorite pet, Rex

Kyle and James sharing a manly, bonding moment

Alex and his scholar bowl team-- he was team captain

The man, doing his favorite thing, playing with a ball, of any kind

Love this pic of Jeremy with his Rugby team-- talk about a happy camper!

Bitter-sweet happy things, Baylie graduating from 5th grade

Mikenzie's feet, I have a lot of this particular shot, don't know why, but it makes me smile

James and Baylie working on the garden together-- luv it

Coolio at his best-- love the cleats!

Weekend Warriors

Saturday was filled with all sorts of happenings at our home this weekend. I was preparing my RS lesson when I heard Brandon outside crying " Ow... ow... ow! " That didn't sound right. I opened the door to see him running home, holding his left arm saying " I'll never do that again". Being a curious mom, I asked him what had happened. Trying to emulate his hero, Jimmer, Brandon and his friend thought it would be a great idea to use a ladder to dunk a basketball. Brandon quickly found out, he was in fact NOT Jimmer, fell to the ground and broke his arm.

So, on the way to Kyle's second soccer game, we stopped by the office for an x-ray to confirm the break-- yep, it was broken. James casted Brandon with a beautiful BYU Blue cast.

If you notice, Baylie still wears a brace from her broken arm... from last month. We've had a string of broken bones, stayed tuned for even more fun.

Here we have Brandon at 2:00 p.m. on Saturday...

And... Brandon at 5:00 p.m. on Saturday, shooting a one armed basketball game across the street, where he broke his arm a few hours earlier. Good luck getting him to sit still for any amount of time. What a kid!

I love the look on Kyle's face in this picture-- his game face

Back to the broken bones. Sunday was the last game of the soccer tourney (I'm a soccer mom, I use lingo like tourney to prove it ). Kyle decided to play. We have taught about keeping the Sabbath Day holy and previously have not let him play on Sundays. He is 14 though, old enough to know right from wrong. We decided to let him choose for himself. James and I support him, regardless of how we feel.

James and Kyle left early Sunday morning for the game. Towards the end of the game, while I was at home trying to piece my RS lesson together ( frantically, for the second time), I received this text: Kyle just carried off of the field, ankle injury. That's right, his team lost and he injured his right ankle to the point he was carried off of the field by his coaches. When he was being taken off of the field his coach asked, " What is it with your family and breaking things?" I have the same question.
When they got home, James and Jeremy had to carry him into the house.

Back to the office after church. Luckily no breaks, he has a possible torn ligament. He is in a "boot" for now. We are waiting for the swelling to go down and to see how he recovers over the next few days before we proceed with an MRI. He is already kicking a soccer ball though... our hopes are high there will be no long term damage. Baylie of course had the brightest out look-- " Hey Kyle, when you wear your boot to school, I'll bet one of your favorite girls will carry your books for you ". To which Kyle promptly replied " I don't need some girl to carry my books! "

So, that was my memorable Mother's Day weekend.

Be Grateful!!

Suffering

Kansas City, MO Temple

Ever have an Ah-ha moment so profound that you realize the teaching came from The Spirit? You are taught instantly by a loving Heavenly Father without words or lessons, but by simple whisperings? Sometimes it is taught in layers, with different experiences adding up to one wonderful and gratitude filled interlude with God?

My wonderful and unique lesson came to me tonight after multiple layers of being taught through the Spirit. It all began a few weeks back as I was "running" while waiting for Kyle to finish soccer practice. I love using my time to accomplish two things at once. I was running up a hill and as it came to a crest, I looked up and saw our beautiful Kansas City Temple, being built just a few miles away from where Joseph Smith was jailed in Liberty, MO. I wondered how Emma would have felt if she knew one day, a temple would be built almost a stone's throw away from where her beloved husband sat in prison. I also wondered if maybe she did know, if she knew more than any of us realize. Her conviction and faith were just as firm as her husbands, her trials just as deep.

I have often reflected on that evening run and the thoughts that came to me as I looked at the temple in the horizon as the sun was setting. Fast forward to a few weeks later, after I was able to enjoy a wonderful week in UT, highlighted by Women's Conference, a few visits to the temples in Utah county, long overdue visits with friends and family. It was spiritually renewing and I have been so grateful for the opportunity to attend.

However, I fall so quickly back into the routine drudgery of my mundane life. Filled with loads of laundry, errands to run and children to attend to. All of that spiritual renewal seemed to have run out rather quickly. I had even lost my resolve to live with more charity and humility.

As I was folding yet another load of laundry tonight after my children had all gone to bed, I began to wallow once again in self-pity for the unexpected turns and set backs that seem to come so frequently into my life. My life just isn't what I dreamed it would be. It is overwhelming to me some days. We had this discussion last night, of all the long days and nights of being a loving, supportive wife to a struggling medical student. So many times, as the loneliness of not just being so far away from family, but from my husband being gone 16-18 hours a day, day after day. I would shore myself up by remembering I was enduring short term pain for long term rewards.

Well, life has a way of NOT turning out the way you plan it. I have been a long time whiner of such a truth, and am easily lulled into a private pity party on a frequent basis these days. Tonight though, a thought came to me. A question rather... Heavenly Father, haven't I struggled enough? The answer came quickly, quietly. No, you haven't. My mind was returned to my previous thoughts of Emma. Could I really stand face to face with her and tell her how hard my life was? Could I tell her it was difficult because I didn't drive a new car and my furniture was tattered and old? Could I look at those early Saints who had set back after set back and tell them how difficult it was for me? As I sit in an air conditioned home, full of modern appliances, with no fear of retribution or violence, here in Clay County Missouri, with a temple being built just a few minutes away? Could I explain to them the disappointment I have faced, when they literally fled in fear of their very lives being taken? Leaving their homes, time and time again?
Can I look to the women who lost children born with the same challenges as my children have been and tell them how difficult it was for me -- living in modern times where a few quick surgeries give them a full and meaningful life?

Haven't I suffered enough?

No, I haven't.

Such a gentle reminder and kind lesson taught to me tonight by a kind and loving Heavenly Father.

Be Grateful!