Apparently I'm a Symbol...

Sometimes I wonder if my mom gave my name much thought - but she actually just named me after a fellow co-worker she admired.  I was doing some volunteer work for the Power of Moms website and came across this on their "About Us" page.  HA!

What is the significance of the daisy on the Power of Moms logo?

Is a daisy a very “powerful” symbol?  Well, we did have that whole “flower power” thing going on in the 60′s…

Daisies are tough flowers. They don’t wimp out easily and they out-last just about any other flower in the vase. They don’t attract the most attention out of all the flowers at the stand, but they are consistently beautiful, bright, and happy. The daisy (named in the 17th century by Carolis Linnaeus) represents purity and innocence. Moms are the bearers of and leaders of the pure and the innocent.

American colonists treated cuts and bruises with a daisy lotion, and American books from the late 30s still refer to the daisy’s medical power for hearts. Daisies are described as durable, adaptable, and as a symbol for excellence. Mothers, like daisies, heal cuts, bruises, and hearts. They are tough, adaptable, and committed to excellence in all areas of their lives.

We love daisies.

I knew I loved the Power of Moms for a reason.  In a weird narcissitic way, probably because of their logo...! 

They're having a Utah County retreat in Highland soon and I'm helping out - excited to be a part of this amazing website again.  I hope some people I know end up going!  Everyone who really wants to go is probably too busy.  I know it's hard to find time .. but it is worth it.  I come back wanting to be a better mother every time and always have lots more ideas for how to do it. If you're in the Utah area, you should join me by getting more info here

The Things We Do For Our Kids...

At the ripe age of 31, I have been snowboarding once and skiing once in my entire long existence on this here earth.  My first attempt at any snow sport was at the young naive age of 20 with snowboarding.  The attempt was mild, ineffective, and I was a quite sore in the arms from pushing myself up for the entire hour (at most) that I was there.  I never quite learned how to "carve" the snow to stop myself, but instead fell to a halt every time.  Following that experience, there was no desire to return and no apparent reason to go back.  Seven years later, I'd have another go at a snow sport, this time with skiing.  The boots hurt, I hated coming off of the lift, and don't recall much more, except that I looked like a man in my snow gear.  It was pretty uneventful.  So when my husband, who has been skiing since he was a kid, told me he'd like to take me skiing with our boys while we're here in Utah for the next 4-5 years, I thought ignoring him would result in no such action.

This last weekend... he got really gung-ho, and we went to a consignment sporting goods store where I somehow let him convince me to buy a pair of ski boots.  We learned about an awesome deal with Utah Ski & Golf for Jordan's ski gear rental (boots and skis) so headed there right after.  And after the boys' naps, we headed to the Park City outlets for some Presidents' Day weekend sales and got some more snow gear.  I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get pink or purple pants since my jacket is black and white, but the colored pants were so expensive, even at the consignment sale, so I'll continue to look like a man while I ski.

I was still nervous.  I didn't have an awful experience the first two times, but not ones that I wanted to repeat or redo and plus, who wants to learn to ski at the age of 31?  Some things can just be avoided forever right?  Plus, I honestly had no interest in the sport at all.  I'd much rather prefer to go shopping, sit on my bum and watch Parks and Recreation, or play with photoshop or the Internet.  You know, the more productive things in life that mean something.  I know.. I'm simply fascinating like that.  But what eventually changed my mind about going was how excited Jordan got when he got home.  He kept putting his ski boots on, asking to put on his skis, and walking around the house.  He even tried to undo his own ski boots, ripped quite a bit of skin on a finger, and even that couldn't stop him.  He was so anxious to get onto the snow.  We watched some Olympics with ski jumps and he immediately asked to put on his skis again.  He just could not wait.  At night when I asked him if we were going skiing the next day, he said "yeah, and Sophie and Violet too" - his dear cousins who are in Angola and had already gone skiing this Winter (Jordan saw videos but hadn't gotten the chance to go with them yet).  I'm unsure if part of his excitement was knowing he was going to get to do what he had seen his cousins do at long last.  But he was definitely stoked.

I wanted to be there to witness Jordan's first time skiing.  What a milestone right?!  Andy's aunt and uncle, Jan and Ike, both experienced skiers, came along with us, and devoted their time to helping me learn.  There were many times when I would have given up had my son not been there to witness it.  Lead by example right?  Get up when you fall down son!  Don't be embarrassed by how utterly stupid you look when you can't figure out the tow rope, get your glove caught on the rope and end up getting dragged for oh say ten feet until you finally rip the glove off and fall with one ski still on into the middle of the tow rope.  Don't care about how stupid you look when your uncle is yelling "LET GO!" and you're trying to yell back that you can't while trying to focus on removing the caught glove trying to hold back your mortified hilariousness of the whole situation (a grown woman being dragged on her back and butt up the hill) while realizing you may very well die or get very very injured.  Don't mind that there are kids born while I was in my 20's who are more advanced and waiting for me to slowly maneuver the tow rope up and kindly allowing me the time to do so.  Don't be defeated when you finally get onto the tow rope and have no idea how to come off, only to fall and take forever and a day to get up again.  Just don't.

Jan and Ike took turns helping me while we were up there.  They kept yelling at me to "pizza!" my skis to carve the snow to a stop, taught me how to get up when I fell on my bum, tried to teach me to properly position myself on the snow to avoid slipping down the hill unintentionally, and encouraged me to keep at it.  I fell the whole way down the hill twice.  A lot of trying to get up and feeling absurdly old and feeble and wet snow seep up my back.  But then I somehow figured out the whole "pizza" thing just mean pressing my thighs inward so hard that it resulted in intense pain and then I would somehow come to a halt.  And two more trips down the hill without any falls!  Success was mine!

Oh and I went really really fast.  So insanely fast.  Faster than the speed of light.  Zooming down the hill.  Or so I thought.  I saw some videos afterwards... I was like a snail.  Creeping down the hill.  Barely moving at times.  HAHAHAHA.  Oh but how fast it felt though!

But I did it.  And I'll probably be back again.  When in Rome right?

I don't think I would have ever gone again had it not been for my kids.  The things we do for them.

Jordan?  He did AWESOME!  He absolutely loved it.  Kept asking to "do it again" and can't wait to go back.  He seemed to figure out his own balance, wasn't afraid of falling, and really got the hang of his pizza and plane arms.  He exceeded our expectations and was absolutely fearless.

A Moment of Spiritual Learning

Sometimes I have to work on Sundays.  It's normally because I have a deadline and my dumb self couldn't figure it out before then.  Every year, there are two large moments when I inevitably will hit a deadline that means me working on Sunday.  Quarterly, it's usually when financials are due, but annually, it's when our tax information is due.

A few Sundays ago.. I was feeling quite dreadful, knowing that there was so much to data input and then analyze, and that I'd have to figure out how to reconcile it without too big of a difference.  On Saturday night... late.. I had about a 60K difference, a small number from my days of auditing big companies where materiality was more, but a large number for me now.  I was dumbfounded.  Frustrated.  Defeated.  Sad.  Depressed.  And sick to top it off!

On Sunday morning... still coming off a rough cough and illness, I suggested to my husband that since I wasn't teaching that weekend, and since Jordan was still getting over a cold himself, that maybe we should stay home and rest.  Deep down, I had plans of reconciling the bum out of that spreadsheet....  I had some hesitation.  But really, I just kept thinking how great it would be to sit down and figure out the spreadsheet with three hours of church time.

I was lounging around in the morning with Jordan when he asked me where Daddy was.  I said, "Daddy is showering so he can go to Church."  Jordan then declared, "I want to go to Church too!"  That sort of kicked me in the butt a little.  I realized.... I was sick, but I had been sick, and had been doing a lot of things while sick.  If anything, I should go to Church, avoid working and renew myself spiritually, and hopefully the Lord would help me out with my huge reconciling difference.  I also realized that Jordan was his messenger for me that morning, reminding me that there really wasn't a good reason NOT to go to Church.  So I put the stress of a spreadsheet I still hadn't figured out aside, got my boys dressed, got dressed myself, and surprised Andy who thought we were staying home to recuperate.

Church was good.  Nothing life changing, but good nevertheless.  But what happened after really shocked me and continues to be yet another reason I know coincidences are just part of the Lord's way of showing us He's there and aware of us.  I got home.. we ate lunch... the boys went to sleep (all three of them) and then I sat down with the dreadful spreadsheet again.  For some reason, I had an inkling that the error was in the gross wages... so I started investigating that area.  I did some ticking and tying and the next thing I knew... I had my difference from 60K down to less than 1k.  It was indeed a miracle.  I was still sick.. but Jordan didn't have a fever anymore that day and both of us were on the road to recovery.

Sometimes... I think it's easy to be tempted to stay home... to do it on your own even if it means trying over and over again.  But other times... if we realize the Lord can help us more than we can ourselves... we save a lot of time and energy.  I truly believe the Lord consecrates our efforts... helps us where we can't.  I'm not saying don't try and just rely completely on the Lord to do everything, but that if we put in a bit of effort the Lord will make up for where we lack.  I do believe in that and humble testify to it happening in my life a few Sundays ago when staying home to work felt more appealing than going to Church.

But the real reason I am blogging at 12 AM is because we just came home from cleaning the Temple.  Now let me tell you something... cleaning the Temple at 10 PM on a weeknight?  I was not in good graces when my husband told me he had signed us up.  In fact, I was a bit irate.  Really?  Doesn't he know I work at night when everyone's asleep?  Plus, I had to make some changes to the very spreadsheet mentioned above and send it to my bossman tonight.  So that just meant I'd go to the Temple with Andy, come home and then work.  So off I went.  Very begrudgingly.  I vacuumed for a long time.  On a really clean carpet and squealed with joy every time I saw a piece of lint get sucked up.  I sweated.  I got bored.  I wondered if we were done yet.  My eyes got misty with fatigue and boredom but I kept at it.  And then we left to go home.  I started working on my spreadsheet almost immediately when we got home... and within 10 minutes, it was done.  WOW.

Pretty dang awesome if you ask me.

Our Sunday Best

Even though I'm already dreaming about ways to dress my future daughters and their bedrooms, Sundays have become a fun opportunity for me to dress up my boys.  As for the weekdays, Jordan isn't a huge fan of dressing up and prefers work out pants most since they give him ample room to run as fast as he can (without them falling since he's so skinny).  So I've slowly moved away from collared shirts and nice sweaters and have instead opted for long crew neck shirts and comfy pants.  He prefers PJs most, but of course - we can only get away with wearing those for so long... after having my 2 year old ask me where we were going and why we were getting dressed, I decided it was okay for me to lounge all day in comfy pants, but that I should make it a habit to dress my kids even if we are just staying home to avoid a long discussion and rebellion.  

So now Sunday bests are a fun chance for a photo-opp!  

Simple Joys

Being a stay at home mom can be hard some days, but boy do the perks outweigh the difficulties. Like seeing their happy faces in front of a fabulous cup of fro-yo.  Like getting fro-yo for no absolute reason just cuz you can.  Like hearing them say thank you for the fro-yo Mommy.  Like getting a hug cuz you ask for one.  Like being preferred over everyone else.  Like snuggling both of my boys at the same time.  

I love my boys.  

Gong Hay Fat Choy!

There's no doubt about it - despite teaching my son how to articulately express his Chinese New Year greetings in Mandarin with gong xi fa tsai! - the Cantonese version is much more fun to type and say... gong hay fat choy!!!!!

I am so ecstatic about Chinese New Year.  Ever since Jordan was born, I've been excited about sharing the story of the Chinese Zodiac and the Monster Nian, as I remember hearing it so many times at Chinese School growing up.  I also have been excited about having an excuse to share a bit of my culture with my son, who let's face it, will be American.  There's something about knowing your culture will slowly disappear into the melting pot of America that makes it kind of neat to celebrate and learn about.  There's also a certain amount of appreciation I have for how less common being Chinese is when you aren't living in Arcasia or LA, how little people seem to know about Chinese food and traditions, and how much I want to remember it all.

Chinese lion dancing...?  Seen it, been there, done that.. big whooop.  Chinese yo-yo's?  Seen it, been there, done that.. big whooop.  Chinese ribbon tying?  Seen it, been there, done that.. big whooop.  Stinky tofu?  Seen it, been there, done that, watched my cousin puke when he got a whiff of it... big whoooop.  8 treasure rice?  Yeah yeah... lobster noodles?  Yeah yeah... sesame ricballs? ... what's new.  BBQ pig... roasted duck... what's new.

But outside of Arcasia (and probably Fluschings New York), it really is not as common!  It really is kind of a big deal.

Have I told you how lucky I am to be in Salt Lake?  How much family we have here to celebrate with us?  After a year without a real Chinese New Year celebration, today was just what I needed.  We started off New Year's Eve (that's when our family celebrates.. always) by having a party with Andy's cousin and her three kids (with boys ages 4, 2 and a girl about 2 months... oh and another Chinese friend I made randomly in Salt Lake too) eating dumplings, green onion pancake, freshly made soy milk (she made it, not me), almond cookies and clementines, coloring a horse photo, opening lucky red envelopes and playing together.  And that wasn't even the end of it!  For dinner, Andy's mom got the entire family together for some amazing Chinese food and then we even got fireworks too (because in case you didn't know, we're connected to a firework VIP)?!  uh---mazing!  Terrific!  Wonderful! I was sooo stoked!!!!

So gong hay fat choy!  Hope you have a year full of prosperity and good fortune.

NOTE: Still learning my camera, had it on auto but apparently it was too slow for my son's insane movements.  Also, the toilet paper rolls - a craft we never got to - making Chinese firecrackers.

These Two Boys

When I found out I was having another boy, I was a bit nervous.  I had heard horror stories of my co-workers' two boys and the older one finding ways to hit the younger one when the parents weren't looking, to feign love but harbor resentment and disdain for the little brother that ruined big brother's days of royalty as the sole heir in the home.  From the beginning of our pregnancy with number two, we got books from the library about brothers, siblings, and baby.  Jordan couldn't even talk much then, was communicating with signs, a lot of gestures, and seemed to get it somewhat.  He'd have days when he'd be really into the "big brother" book we got, and other days when it was the last thing he wanted to read.  

And then I was in the hospital for two weeks before Bubba came.  Still not talking a lot at 23 months, Jordan just knew Mom was gong with Bubba and that Bubba was inside my stomach.  He had a great time with Grandma while Daddy worked and then... Bubba was here and Mom was back.  While Bubba was in the NICU for a month, Jordan still just heard about Bubba, would say "I love you Bubba" as we drove by the hospital, and finally... after almost forever, he got to meet Bubba through the looking glass of the NICU.  And boy.. was he excited.  And that excitement for his baby brother... maybe increased because of how long he was unable to see him and had heard of him, has only seemed to grow.  

Sure he pushes the limits from time to time.  Sure he doesn't understand why he can't just hold his baby brother whenever he wants.  Sure he tries to roll Bubba over and gets put into time out.  Sure he takes toys away from Bubba and makes him cry.  But most of the time, he's just learning and it's pretty dang sweet to see him look out for his baby brother.  Jordan will go grab a toy (albeit it a not so cool and lamer toy) for Bubba, will tell him his planes are not baby toys.  Likewise, he will eat Bubba's snacks and say he wants some baby snacks too, but then tell me that avocado is Bubba's food, not his.  He becomes really defensive anytime other people are around Bubba or other kids are trying to touch Bubba's toys.  Bubba is for the most part, his and Mommy's and Daddy's and everyone else is okay touching him, unless he's sick or tired or hungry.... then nobody can touch Bubba!  

I've been enjoying the perks of being able to witness their love for one another.  Bubba LOVES watching Jordan, he is a pretty great eater and generally focused, but the moment Jordan finishes eating and asks to be excused, Jordan runs out of the kitchen in the morning leaving Bubba cranking his neck here and there in an effort to catch a glimpse of big brother running in the hallway.  It's absolutely adorable.  You can tell he's got an inner struggle of - stay and eat, see what big bro is doing.  Bubba loves being with Jordan and if he's in the car without Jordan, he almost looks anxious until he can see Jordan sitting next to him, and then it's as if he's letting out a sigh of relief and then gives in and goes ahead and falls asleep.  If he's awake, 90% of the time, his head is turned left to stare at Jordan.  

Bubba had his 9 month appointment today, so Jordan got two lollipops and a sheet of four Superman stickers that he has transferred to his PJs to sleep with - it was a great day for Jordan! But it was also so so cute to see Jordan express concern for his baby brother - first while he was getting his shots, telling him "don't be scared Bubba" and "you'll feel better after" and then in the radiology room where he shouted from the next room (where the technician asked Jordan to sit and gave him a lollipop to help occupy him), "it's okay Bubba, don't be scared" (Jordan was just in the x-ray room over Christmas so he might have recalled Andy saying that to him). 

These two are (hopefully) going to be the best of friends!