Bloom

Life is busy.  And when life gets busy, some things start to fall to the wayside - like blogging. Actually, the main problem is that my evenings are always so busy now, and that's prime blogging time.  Mutual activities, RS activities, visiting teaching, presidency meetings, school stuff... the list goes on and on and is only getting longer.

But this morning I find myself camping out in the kitchen with Cole and Tess because we are having the carpets cleaned.  And I find myself with not much to do other than keeping the kiddos out of the cleaners' way.  (This is not so hard for now because the cleaners scare the kids.  And I have snacks.)

*Side note: since moving into this house, having the carpets cleaned is one of the few (if only...) home maintenance duties I splurge on to have someone else do.  I used to clean the carpets once or twice a year in our old home, but now we just have far too much carpet and far too many kids to get it done on our own.  Plus, I found a company that will vacuum and clean the baseboards at the same time.  WIN.*

Anywho, it seems like lately I've overheard two different but similar conversations - several times each - that make me want to hop on my soap box and discuss. (Please note - these were conversations between people I didn't know very well, which is why a) I didn't jump in and make my opinions known, and b) I feel comfortable writing about it in a somewhat public forum.  So if you think I'm writing this about you, I'm not!)

The first involves people who think that once some big event or life change or whatever happens, then their life will be much easier and everything will be hunky-dory.  (As in, "Once my husband graduates and gets a job, life will be so much easier!" or "Once all of my kids are older parenting will be a snap!" )

No judgements here.  I was totally the same way when Lance was in grad school.  And part of me still hopes that parenting will get easier as time marches on.

However. In my 34+ years of life  I've discovered an eternal truth: as your life and circumstances change, the problems and stresses from before generally disappear.  These are then promptly replaced with new problems and stresses.

I distinctly remember having this occur to me right after Lance graduated and we had bought our first home.  Sure, we were making more money and Lance's schedule was much better.  But all too soon I realized that these two stresses were replaced with new ones.

Look, life isn't easy.  There are always going to be problems, no matter how much money you have or how beautiful you are or how awesome your kids are.  You can't reach for some goal (school, work, kids, whatever) and assume that once you reach it you'll be perfectly happy forever.

This fact was driven home for me in an article in this month's Ensign.  Elder Wirthlin wrote, "Those who make happiness the chief objective of life are bound to fail, for happiness is a by-product rather than an end in itself. Happiness comes from doing one’s duty and knowing that his life is in harmony with God and His commandments."

So go ahead and strive for that goal - but realize that you can and should be happy along the way.

The second conversation I have heard a lot lately has involved not being happy with where one lives.  As in "I hate living in Indiana!  There's too much humidity/drought/heat/awesomeness and too few things to do/mountains/freeways/jerks, and I just can't cope with it."

This drives me nuts.

Forget the fact that insulting Indiana (or wherever) indirectly insults the people who happily make it their home.  (Which is does.)  What bugs me is the idea that someone could live somewhere and be so focused on the supposed negatives of the place that they don't even bother to look for the positives.

I'll be the first to admit that I kind of had this problem for the first few weeks we lived in Indiana.  I had just moved from beautiful Salt Lake City - surrounded by mountains, teeming with things to do, past Olympic host city - to little Lafayette - flat as a board, teeming with corn and soybean fields, no chance of ever ever hosting the Olympics.  In Salt Lake we had lived in a decent apartment in a rather posh part of town.  In Lafayette we lived in a grungy duplex next to people who smoked like it was going out of style.  I remember calling an old friend/coworker of mine and bemoaning the fact that the height of Lafayette front porch fashion was apparently beer can wind chimes.  (It's true - a few houses in the neighborhood had several.  Oy.)  I could not wait to get back West!

But then one afternoon I found a card with the phrase "Bloom Where You're Planted" on it.  This was a phrase that had been on my mom's desk for years and years.  And this reminded of the very last visit I had with my mom before she died.  We were sitting in her hospital room.  I was nursing Spencer, and my dad had left the room because dads are endearingly nervous about nursing moms who happen to be their daughters.  My mom was not herself.  She had been through a lot - 6 months in the hospital, countless surgeries and procedures, bouts with depression.  This, and the fact that it was hard for her to speak made it a little difficult to have a good conversation with her.  She listened to me chatter on and on, but rarely offered anything in response.  I was explaining to her, again, that Lance and I were planning to move to Indiana.  I was bemoaning the fact that we were going to be so far from family, and I admitted I was more than a bit nervous about the whole thing since I had never been to the Midwest.  I thought for sure that I would always be a California Girl at heart.  I remember very clearly one of the few things she said: "You'll do fine.  Just be happy."   

In other words, she wanted me to bloom no matter where I was planted.

That memory helped me change my tune, focus on the positive, and grow to really love and appreciate Indiana.  I love the seasons and the farmland.  I love how friendly the people are, and the fact that there aren't so many of them that it takes hours and hours to get anywhere.  I love the thunderstorms and the heavy snowstorms. I love the lush green of summer (at least in non-drought years!) and the harsh white of winter.  I love that people here aren't afraid of showing how much religion is a part of their life. I still don't love beer can wind chimes, but none of our current neighbors have adopted that decorating scheme, so that's neither here nor there for now. 

Look, there are going to be good and bad things about where you live, no matter where you live.  Just get over it, quit complaining, and find the good things about your home.  Because there are always good things about where you live, even if you have to look really hard for them.  Just bloom.  You'll be a lot happier.  (And so will the people eavesdropping on your conversations.)

Pikachu Pinata!

Joshie turns the big 0-6 next month, and all he wants in the world is a Pokemon party.

I know nothing about Pokemon, other than that there are overpriced cards involved.

But that is neither here nor there, because what the birthday boy wants the birthday boy gets.  So at this Pokemon party, all Josh wants in the world is a Pikachu pinata.

I'll wait while you say that out loud a few times.  Go ahead - it's pretty fun.

Anywho, I scoured the Internet and a few stores around town, and it looked like Pikachu pinatas would cost me at the very least $15-$20.  Not including candy.

Um.  No.

I'm not gonna pay that much for something a bunch of sugared-up six year olds are gonna beat to death.  So on Friday night at craft group I made my own Pikachu pinata.  (And excuse the photo quality.  Picasa is being a PUNK right now for some reason.)  Behold!

It took three hours, 2 paper grocery bags, a bunch of masking tape (thanks, Kanien!), yellow paint, some construction paper, and a whole mess of glue and crepe paper.  All of which cost less than $5.

Josh was well-pleased.  And so was I.

Where does one store a Pikachu pinata when the birthday party isn't for another three weeks?  On top of the living room book shelf, of course.  Might as well show it off as much as I can before poor Pikachu meets his demise!

Kitchen Chairs

I don't know what it is about my kitchen chairs, but all of my kids have gotten caught underneath them at one point or another.  (Even Spencer, and he was two and a half when we bought them.)  I think the uneven bars throws babies/toddlers for a loop, they get frustrated, and then they give up and whine and cry until I come rescue them. 

Tess has been doing this for the past three days.  Over and over and over.  You'd think she'd have figured this whole thing out by now, but nope.

I guess the chairs are just too tempting.

It seems like such a good idea to go over or under one of those bars.

Until you realize that you're stuck.

And Mom's not gonna get you out

until after she gets a few pictures.

Sneeky Peeky

Obviously, someone got ahold of my camera

but only long enough to take one picture.

Ross Edwin Roper

For our Mutual activity tonight each of us was asked to bring a story about one of our ancestors.  I know of several on each side of my family, but the one I really wanted to talk about I had to ask my dad for.  He sent me a very detailed email, which I really appreciated.  (Thanks, Dad!)  It's about my Great-Grandfather, Ross Edwin Roper (1890-1941).

I even got lucky and found some pictures of Ross Roper online, mostly at a site called familypreserves.com.  Isn't the internet amazing?  Anywho, I thought it would be nice to document all of this on my blog.  I have a great appreciation for my ancestors.  Some were really righteous... others, not so much.  But, like all "normal" people, they all have amazing stories that we can learn a lot from.

I believe this version is a combination of a written version from my Great-Uncle Oather (Ross's oldest son) and what my dad remembers his father telling him.  (With a few slight edits from a grammar-zealous great-granddaughter.  I'm sure Ross would approve.)

Ross is in the middle.

Ross Edwin Roper was born in the Uintah Basin. His father abandoned the family when Ross was less than 6 months old. His mother was a bit of an alcoholic and had poor taste in men. She hooked up with some real characters. Once, when Ross was around three years old he had been acting up. Ross and his two brothers were home alone with one of their step- fathers. The step-father got cross with him, and to punish Ross he was going to put his bare feet on the top of the pot belly stove to burn them to keep him from running around. Luckily for Ross, his brother Argyle (who was about 8 at the time) picked up his step-father's pistol off of the table and threatened to shoot his step-father if he didn't put Ross down. My dad (Voit Roper, Ross's son) said he believed Argyle would have pulled the trigger - so did the step-father, as Ross didn't get his feet burned.

Ross was out of school by the 3rd grade. His mother found him a job driving the mail wagon from Fort Duchesne, Utah to the Green River depot (about 25 miles) He would make the trip twice a week, all by himself. He would drive to the crossing at the river, stay there overnight, pick up the mail, then drive back the next day to Ft. Duchesne. He lived on the base with the postmaster. Of course, as an unsupervised 9 year old on an army base he picked up some bad habits, including swearing and smoking. (Oddly enough, somewhere along the line he was baptized).

Ross married Lacy Jones, who came from a very active family in Maeser, UT. Ross and Lacy had a small farm and were basically inactive in the church. Ross did not smoke much because it was expensive, but he would have a cigarette after meals. When the weather was nice he would smoke away from the house, but in the winter when it was very cold he would sit in front of the wood stove in the kitchen and blow the smoke into the stove so it went up the chimney. 

During one winter when his oldest son, Oather, was 5 or 6, Ross was having his evening smoke in the kitchen. The house had two rooms, a bedroom and a kitchen/living area. The kids had been put to bed and while Ross was having his cigarette he looked up and saw Oather watching him through the crack of the door. (They left the door slightly ajar to let the heat from the stove into the bedroom). Grandpa Ross related that the thought went through his mind that he didn't want his son to grow up with this terrible habit, so he threw his cigarette into the stove, got up, crossed the room, got his smoking supplies (tobacco and papers) and threw them in the stove.

Lacy watched this and chided him about the waste. He had tried to stop before and every time they would have to ride into Vernal a few days later to buy new smoking materials, a cost of both time and money (which were both pretty scarce). Ross told her not to say anything, that he was done smoking. This was probably about February. Ross was true to his word and didn't smoke all that spring, summer, and fall. Late that fall (probably mid- November) the weather had stayed mild, so late one afternoon Ross decided to take an extra trip up into the Uintah mountains to cut firewood. They would make several trips each fall to cut down trees and then haul the logs down to the valley and cut them up for firewood for the winter. He loaded his gear into the wagon and started up the mountain.

The nice thing about a horse drawn wagon is that if you are making the same trip you have made several times before the horses basically drive themselves. You can sit in the wagon and watch the scenery go by. This was in the early 20th century, probably around 1917. Ross was just sort of dozing in the wagon when something on the side of the road caught his eye. He stopped the horses, got out of the wagon and went to investigate. On the side of the road he found a rare treasure, a new pack of ready-rolled cigarettes. Ross said that without thinking he opened the pack and put a cigarette in his mouth. Then he started to look for a match to light up.

He searched his jacket and his pants to no avail. He got out his provision box from his wagon and went through all of it looking for a match. When he couldn't find a match he finally came to his senses and realized what he was doing. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and destroyed the rest of the smokes in the pack and got back in his wagon. By now he was too far into the mountains to turn back but was concerned about being high in the Uintah mountains without any matches. He decided to go on to his camp site and take his chances. When he arrived at his camp he unpacked the wagon, made up his camp, and laid a fire, thinking he would figure out a way to light it. He sat on a log by the fire pit, reached his hand inside his jacket,  unfastened the button on his shirt pocket - and there were the matches.

Grandpa Ross told this story to my grandfather (Voit Roper) the fall before he (Ross) died. They were camping up in the Uintah mountains near where this incident took place. Ross told my grandfather that he believed that if he had found the matches he would have started smoking again and probably would have never been able to quit. A few years later the Ropers moved to Idaho to work with some relatives. While there they became active in the church and when they returned to Utah a few years later they were sealed as a family in the Manti Temple. At one time they had holders of 6 offices in the priesthood living in their house: Grandpa Ross was a high priest, Oather was a 70, Morris was an Elder, Voit was a priest, Von was a teacher, and Ornal was a deacon.

1 Corinthians 10:13 says: "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it."

Basically, the Lord won't allow us to be tempted with anything that we can't say no to.  That said, we could easily read this story and look down on Grandpa Ross for picking up those cigarettes and trying to give in to the temptation.

But I don't.  I read this story and marvel at the tender mercy the Lord had in helping Grandpa Ross out of that situation.  Our Heavenly Father knows each of us intimately; he knows our strengths and our rather unfortunate weaknesses.  And he knew that Grandpa Ross would not be able to say no to those cigarettes.  So he made "a way to escape" in hiding the matches.

That one experience was probably rather life-changing.  Had he begun smoking again, it's doubtful that the Roper family would have started going back to church. Ross's children, including my paternal grandfather, probably would not have been members, nor any of their children.  As of now, four generations of his posterity - hundreds, if not thousands, of people - have been blessed because of this one experience.  Including myself.

How grateful I am to my Great-Grandfather, Ross Edwin Roper, for making that change in his life!  And how grateful I am to my Father in Heaven for helping him make that change!

*Wondering why not smoking is such a big deal to Mormons?  See here, or here.

The Cutest Cheese You've Had in a While (Or Ever)

Miscellaneous Trip Pictures

Oh. My. Gosh.

As of this post I am FINALLY done with all of our trip pictures.  (Is that applause I hear in the background?)  I know, you will be totally sad not to have blog posts about a trip you didn't go on.  Try to console yourself with these random pics that didn't really fit in with any of the other posts.

As you can see, Tess eventually warmed up to Grandma Susie.

One of the best things about Grandpa and Grandma is that they are always willing to play board games with the boys.  (Don't you love that Tess is still cheesin' it for the camera?)

One morning the kids were especially grouchy.  I decided that what they really needed was a trip to the park.  I was right - they loved it!  They just needed to get out of the house and run around for a bit.

Lance used to come to this playground when he was in high school.  So, nostalgia city for him!

Tess also had to sample the local mulch.  Yum.

Not a bad view!

I found a random and ridiculously small velvet sombrero in a random closet.  So of course it had to go on Tess's head!

My cousin Brandon (Bryce and Janee's 2nd son) is growing this monstrosity of a pumpkin.  Isn't it awesome?  The week we were there it was around 350 pounds.  I just got a family email that said it is now just shy of 800 pounds. We all know how much I luurrve pumpkins.  HOW AWESOME IS THAT?!?!  (Answer: very.)

My dad took Kevin, Lance, and Spencer to a Salt Lake Real (professional soccer league) game.  A good, manly time was had by all.

I especially like how Spencer has a messy face.  Mommas wouldn't let their kids walk around in public with a messy face.  But dads?  Who cares!  Gooooaaaalll!

One night Lance and I tagged along with Dad and Susie to the wedding reception of one of Susie's nephews.  We teased that we "crashed" it, but not really because we had gotten an invite!  (I suspect they didn't expect us to come. :)  It was really nice, but we only stayed for a short while because we were then off to see the new downtown SLC City Center.

It was kind of surreal driving around Salt Lake and seeing all our old haunts.  (Lance and I lived there for close to four years after we got married.)  I had been away long enough that a lot of it looked strange, but every once in a while something would jump out and it would be like "oh, I know this place!"  I wish Lance and I had had some time just to drive around and look. 

City Center was pretty impressive.  It's basically a huge, really nice shopping center, with all sorts of high end stores and restaurants and such.  I stole these images from the interwebs because I forgot to take pictures.

I really wanted to walk around downtown a bit, just because I used to work downtown and then after I had Spencer I would take him on walks all around there.  (The sister missionaries at Temple Square were big fans of Spencer!)  But we just didn't have time.  We ended the evening with a great meal at The Cheesecake Factory, just enjoying a night out without any children.  Kudos to my brothers for being willing to watch the kids, and only losing Cole once!  (Hey - that's better than my daily average!)