Virginia is for Lovers

On November 10, 1989 my dad and mom sat the 7 of us children down and told us that we were moving from Woodbridge,VA to Las Vegas, NV. I was 11-years-old. The next few weeks we packed and packed and packed. Well, my mom did.

December 15, 1989 was moving day. I vividly remember moving day. The house was completely empty except the telephone. I remember standing in the kitchen watching my mom unplug it and carry it outside.

Here is Tad, two years before, on that same phone.

I remember watching my dad lock up the front door and walk away. I remember him being in a great mood.

I don't have a picture from moving day, but this picture is from our first move from CA to VA, but same moving truck!

Tad, my oldest sibling, was buckled up, ready to drive his Blazer. He was pulling a trailer with all of our motorized toys. My dad was ready to go in the big Ryder truck. He was also towing a trailer that included our other car. And, my mom and I were in the Lincoln, our third car. I don't remember where Tyson, Ann, Loren, Elizabeth and Sam rode, but I know they weren't with me. It was just my mom and me. My dad started his engine and headed out. Tad followed behind. My mom was to be the cabose. Was being the operative word.

My mom reached in her purse for the key. No key. She checked her pockets. No key. We searched and searched for a few minutes and . . . no key. It was 14 degrees outside. My dad and my brothers and sisters were gone and there we sat. My mom kept saying, "they'll be back."

Now remember, I was eleven. My imagination got the best of me at this point. And, the freezing cold didn't help either. My dad and my brothers and sisters (and all my stuff!) were going to go all the way to Las Vegas without me. I imagined sitting there staring at the house we couldn't go in for warmth . . . forever.

So, we sat at shivered in the car. My mom thought out loud about what we could do. The house was all locked. Even if we could get in, that phone that used to hang on the wall was now packed in the truck. And even if we had a phone, how would that help? There were no cell phones back then. There were only 5 houses on our street. None of our neighbors were home. So we sat in the cold, cold, cold car (remember, 14 degrees) and waited. And waited.

Here's the car we waited in. Nice pants Tad.

After a few minutes my mom suggested we say a prayer. She said it. I can't remember what she said but I'm sure it went something like, "Help Terry realize that we're not behind him and help him to safely get back to us."

Meanwhile, my dad and Tad had made it up Canon Bluff Drive. It was a pretty steep climb out of our neighborhood and there was ice and snow on the road. When he finally made it to Davis Ford Road, only about a 1/2 mile from our house it had already been about 10 minutes. So, he turned right and headed for Nevada. It only took a few minutes for Tad to flash my dad down. I'm not sure if they had discussed what signal he would use to get my dad to pull over, but the signal was the standard for the rest of our week-long journey. "What is it Tad?" Tad said, "Mom never came out." My dad thought for a minute and touched the top of his jeans. He had the key in his pocket. He had moved the Lincoln earlier from the driveway out onto the street so he could back the Ryder out. My dad didn't want to take the Ryder back down to our house so he got in the Blazer. I think they even unhitched the trailer from the Blazer to make it easier to get back to us. Tad stayed there with the truck and the kids.

Here is the view from our front door. This is the driveway my dad backed the car out of. We sat on that street waiting for what seemed like forever.

I will never forget the feeling I got when I saw the Blazer turn the corner. We cheered and clapped, we continued to cry (tears were already full force,) and we said a prayer of thanks. My dad came, rescued us, and we drove off and thawed out as we drove to meet up with the rest of the family. They were only a mile or so away, but because of the weather, it took them a long time to make that first mile. I wrote in my journal, "we stayed from 6:10pm until 7:11pm. I cried, really I did." (It was a big thing for me to cry . . . I'm not a crier.)

For years afterward I used that story as an example of a time when one of my prayers was answered. I was so convinced that my family was going to drive the whole way without us. I knew that the reason my dad came back for us was because we prayed.

Now, it's been almost 20 years since that night. I have a little more knowledge. A little. I know now that my dad would have come back for us even if we hadn't said that prayer. My dad and the rest of my family weren't going to drive the 2,500 miles across the country before realizing we weren't there.

So, did that prayer work? What does Heavenly Father do with the prayers that aren't needed? Is there a file in heaven called "wasted attempts" of something? Or, is every prayer answered, somehow?

I like to think that a lot was accomplished because of that prayer. Perhaps Tad noticed that we were missing the second we said that prayer. If he hadn't, my dad could have been much longer and we could have been much colder. Or maybe my dad made it back to us safely because of that prayer. He could have driven back down the hill to our street and slipped on the ice causing an accident in our first hour of the trip. (We saved the every-trip-needs-a-scary-accident for a few days into a journey!) Or, maybe there was a reason we were left behind and the prayer helped my dad to pull over at the right time preventing some problem a little further down the road. Or, the obvious to me reason, perhaps Heavenly Father was preparing me for the rest of my life. I was being taught about prayer. I was going to be able to use this story for years down the road as an example during lessons and talks at church, while teaching the primary children, while teaching my own children, and even as a lesson for someone else to read about (perhaps right now.)

I believe Heavenly Father knows what he's doing. I will never cease to pray. If everything else in my life is in shambles, or even if everything is perfect, prayer will still be the most powerful thing in my life. Even if I think I can make it on my own.

Sunday, The Day of Rest?

A typical Sunday at our house . . .

I am awake by 6:30am. I get ready, Anthony gets ready, we get the kids ready.

We try to get pictures of the kids all dolled up each Sunday. This usually happens at 8:00am. It's getting easier because the children are getting used to it. I love that we have so many Sunday-dress pictures.

At 8:15am we are at church. We are normally the first ones there that aren't in meetings. Bradley loves to turn on all the chapel lights. I rehearse with the choir and warm up on the organ while Anthony goes to the library to print out the Sacrament Meeting programs.

Church starts at 9:00am and is over at 12:00pm.

Then we head home for lunch, rests, and dinner prep.

We have a usual crew of 8 adults and 6 kids, soon to be 7 (yeah!), over for dinner. It's always fun and always delicious. A big crowd favorite, pictured here, is the potato bar.

Our Sunday night dinner tradition has been going on since we got married nearly 8 years ago. It's fun to spend time, relaxing time, with family. Sometimes we have more guests for dinner, sometimes it's less. But, it's something I look forward to all week long. And, the children love it too. Bradley tells me every Sunday that after church Andrew is coming over. And, Andrew always does. It's wonderful.

All that being said, we've had a few Sundays in a row where our normal 14 has turned into a lot more. Here's our crew from a few weeks ago. A handful of our regulars weren't here, but we filled in the holes with a few visitors.

Here, all our regulars are back with a few added guests; Kara, her girls and my Uncle Bob and Aunt Janice.

Sundays are long, hard and crazy busy. But, Sunday is hands-down my favorite day of the week. I love going to church. I love that my children love going to church. And I love spending time with some of my most family people in the world, my family. Without Sunday dinners we wouldn't have the missing-Land-Rover-key story to share. I'd be without the smile from Eric using a huge fork each Sunday. We'd never talk to Sam about his 14-people-long Home Teaching list. We'd never get to recap how everyone's church lessons went or ask about any false-doctrines brought up in each ward. We'd never get to enjoy my mom's jello that everyone makes fun of but that has NO leftovers every week. And, Anthony and I would probably never try cooking new meals!

Here's to many, many more Sunday dinners (always including meat, right Sam?)

Birthday Twins

In Junior High there was this sweet girl name Maribel that shared a birthday with me. I thought it was pretty cool and we bonded immediately because of that fun coincidence. Then, in High School two more friends were added to the mix. I found out that Ben, who was also on my compatibility list (remember those?) - and Sara, who I've blogged about before, both shared my special day. My best friend Marie also has a son that was born on my birthday. If you're good at statistics you probably know that the odds of someone you know sharing a birthday with you are pretty high. Check out this cool equation. It's pretty fun to think about.

Then there's my husband. He shares a birthday with his brother's wife, our sister-in-law Kylene. They're a few years apart, but still, the same day. It's pretty amazing to me that the two of them, being born on the same day, are a lot alike. Kylene and Anthony get along with everyone. They never judge or talk badly about others. I could stand to learn more from these March 23rd-ers.

My due date for my first baby, Bradley, was January 5, 2004. Joe, a long-time family friend, told me that was his birthday and it would be cool if he was born on his day! Sure enough, Bradley, being the prompt little boy that he is, was born right on time . . . on Joe's birthday. Joe brings Bradley a birthday cake every year on their birthday.

We knew when we got pregnant with baby #2 that if it was a girl we were going to name her Jamison. A few middle names came up but once we mentioned "June" it was set. Jamison June was on her way, scheduled to arrive May 31st. I thought it would be cool if she was just one day late so she could be born in June and also named June. I bet I'm the only pregnant woman who wished for a late baby! Also, my brother Tyson mentioned that it would be cool if she was born on June 3rd because she was to be named Jamison "June the third." My mom and grandma both have the middle name of June. Sure enough, Jamison joined us on June the 3rd. My water broke while at a birthday dinner for my cousin Eric. Jamison joined us a few hours later, on Eric's birthday. What an awesome guy to share a birthday with!

And last there's little Conley. He was due January 23rd. I knew that my Aunt Janice's birthday was the 22nd. I have never had a baby come early so I figured it wouldn't happen. Well, happen it did! Conley entered this world 4 hours shy of his scheduled due date, and on his Grand Aunt Janice's birthday. I love my Aunt Janice and was so glad she could meet her little birthday twin a few days ago.

Who do you share a birthday with?

Lake - Labor Day - Mead

How many people can you fit into a 21-foot boat on Labor Day weekend?

Well, it doesn't take a rocket-scientist.

After an awesome Lake Mead camp-out I have decided . . . that I'm a wimp. Now, don't get me wrong, we were spoiled. My brothers Tad and Loren, the expert scouters and chefs, thought of everything we would need. We had cold water, shade, delicious hot meals and supplies for everything and anything we wanted.

But, there are a ton of modern-day conveniences that I would have a hard time living without. Mainly, shelter. My name may be Sarah, but I'm nothing like Lehi's wife Sariah. I would murmur all day long if I had to live in a tent!

We had quite the wind-storm at night. The heat-relief provided from unzipped tent windows had to be taken away due to the amount of sand blowing in. It was so windy we had to haul huge rocks into the tent to keep it from blowing away. This made our tent a little smaller. However, we still housed 8 people including one pack-n-play. It was probably the most uncomfortable night's sleep I've ever had. But, we laughed it off. Literally. There was a lot of uncontrolled laughter going on.

But, aside from an uncomfortable sleeping situation . . . we had a blast.

We swam.

We boated.

Some wake-boarded.

Some tried :(

Some water skied. My camera battery ran out so I only got Tad. He was awesome, and some of the others showed us their moves too.

Some tried doubles-action.

And some even tubed.

We were afraid for a minute that Tad wasn't going to cook us dinner, so mom went and caught us a fish. If her dad could see her now!

And last, we went night swimming with glow sticks.

All it all, it was a great lake trip. I hate to admit it, but it was the first time we've been camping as a family. My kids had a great time, and Bradley has already been asking when we can go again. Hopefully soon little guy!

I have uploaded a ton more pictures onto my September Picasa Album. Enjoy!