I want to be like my Grandma Hess–patient, loving, fun, kind, willing to endure all things to the very end . . .

I doubt that I will ever be able to completely fill her size 9 shoes (Naturalizer seemed to be her favorite brand), but I take pride in the fact that I am like my grandma in a few ways.  She was a worrywart just like me, and we both love inspirational quotes, poems and stories.

One of my favorite memories of Grandma Hess is sitting on her bed with her while she watched Lawrence Welk and I culled through some of the spiral-bound volumes of treasures she had collected over the years.

Separated by the miles between CA and UT or CA and AU (while she and Grandpa Hess served in the Sidney Temple), she was so diligent in writing me (even weekly while I attended BYU), and she would frequently close her letters with a quote or two selected just for me based on challenges or experiences I may have been going through at the time.  Now, separated by the thin veil between here and eternity, I may not get letters from her, but once in a while, I feel her influence in my life and pause to contemplate how I can be more like her.  I had one such experience yesterday . . .

During Sunday School yesterday, our fabulous instructor (Katie Morphew) shared this quote that really hit home and reminded me of my grandma.

“Men and women who turn their lives over to God will find out that He can make a lot more out of their lives than they can.

He will deepen their joys, expand their vision, quicken their minds, strengthen their muscles, lift their spirits, multiply their blessings, increase their opportunities, comfort their souls, raise up friends, and pour out peace.

Whoever will lose his life to God will find he has eternal life.”

Ezra Taft Benson

(Thank you, Lindsay, for providing the pictures!)

As I walked in to the bathroom this morning to check on Vivi, this is what I found:

I wish that I could say that potty training was “in the bag.”

Once upon a time there were three bears . . .

Apparently very upset that Goldilocks would dare move into THEIR house, these three units have been BEARS all summer.  But you see, unlike the bedtime story, it’s Goldilocks’ name on the deed to the home.  And as she eats HER porridge, sits in HER chair, and sleeps in HER bed, by dang, she doesn’t want to have beads of sweat dripping down her brow because one or more of these three bears is grumpy.

So, when Goldilocks came home on Saturday evening to find her cottage HOT, she almost cried.  Four AC malfunctions in the last three months (some of the hottest months since moving to TX) was simply more than she could BEAR.  But gathering her wits about her, she tromped off to the side of the house, avoiding a rat as he scurried by, and confronted Papa Bear, the current offender.  Thankfully, past problems with Baby Bear helped Goldilocks zero in on the likely problem–

A Monday morning trip to Baker Distributing Co. in McKinney (the only local HVAC supply company I could find that will sell to the public) confirmed the diagnosis.  The ‘fan’ terminal on the old capacitor tested bad, a new part was purchased, and upon returning home, Goldilocks managed to quickly restore Papa Bear to an operational condition without electrocuting herself in the process.

Goldilocks estimates that she saved BT $157.26 by fixing the unit herself, and with his blessing, she promptly applied this $ toward the purchase of a CORDLESS drill.

Thanks, honey!

Over the last few days, I’ve been faced with a dilemma . . .

Do I fold the laundry that has accumulated for the last two weeks?

Do I make my bed?

Do I exercise?

Do I attempt to restore order to my pantry?

OR, do I work on finishing the cute “bow bag” that my sister Heidi and I picked up the pattern for while I was in UT last month.

Hmm . . .

I’d venture to guess that, for most people, the Olympics are inspiring.  Unfortunately, I’m feeling like a big, pregnant blob these days, so seeing beach volleyball players in their teeny weeny bikinis wasn’t doing a lot for my ego.  And then, as I watched Michael Phelps win his 8th gold medal, it dawned on me.  On behalf of all pregnant women of the world, past-present-future, I can hold my head high.  We are not so different from (and in many ways are superior to) these world-class athletes!

• Every time I try to paint my toenails or shave my legs, I have to exhibit nearly as much flexibility as Nastia Liukin!
• Completely exhausted,  as I climb our long flight of stairs for the umpteenth time at the end of the day, I’m demonstrating the stamina and determination of the most fatigued marathon runner.
• Hey, Kerri Walsh! My wedding ring doesn’t fit very well either.
• The media made a big deal about how little time Dara Torres had to rest between events.  Getting up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom AGAIN, after having just fallen asleep from the previous time, I can totally relate!
• Like the Olympic wrestlers, I’m desperately trying not to slip into the next weight category.  But despite my best efforts, I’m bearing a striking resemblance to some of the women shot putters.
• What’s the big deal about Kobe and the rest of the dream team?  All they have to do is fit a nice round ball through an amply-sized hoop.  No forceps or emergency c-sections needed there!
• Olympic athletes think that THEY have butterflies in their tummies?

And yet, on the day of my “medal ceremony,” I’ll have my eternal coach by my side, but there will be no primetime media coverage.  No one will be playing the national anthem.  Hopefully NO world records will be set.  But our angel straight from heaven will be more precious to me than any number of gold medals could ever be.  D-Day = 6 weeks, 6 days and counting!

Of all the wonderful blessings of living in this area, one of the greatest is the GOOD FRIENDS that we’ve made here.

As Ariana gets older and friends play an even larger role in her life, I am especially grateful for the goodness of her friends that bring such a wonderful spirit into our home every time they visit.  I love that they feel comfortable joining in on the good-natured teasing and “smack talking” that goes on around here–such as “Maylor TcAleavy” bravely eating jalapeno and then trying, in vain, to get BT to prove his machismo.

When you ask God for a gift,
Be thankful if he sends,
Not diamonds, pearls, or riches,
but the love of real true friends.

– Helen Steiner Rice

• 4 crayon bags
• 8 doll quilts
• 8 doll nightgowns
• 8 doll pillowcases
• 8 doll pillows
• 1 large baptism quilt
• 3 sewing caddies

Miracle of miracles, that’s the list of sewing projects that I’ve ACTUALLY FINISHED over the last few weeks, almost all of which utilized fabric stash that I’ve been hoarding for years.

Next up . . . more DEAR JANE blocks!!!

As I sit here staring at the computer screen, I shed the tears of a mother who wants to freeze time, and I struggle to find the words to adequately express my love for you, Ariana.  I know that I need to spend MORE time cuddling with you on the couch and LESS time trying to keep up with household chores.  I know that I need to give you MORE words of encouragement and FEWER words of criticism.

And so, while I hope that you love the fun American Girl-themed party and other gifts that you received on this special birthday–all tokens of our love for you–I hope that my efforts over the coming year to strengthen my relationship with you will be the best gift you receive from me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my sweet girl.