a very merry birthday party

Merry Christmas!

If you read my blog post last night you're probably wondering if Kate got her flute. At the mall Santa told her he would see what he could do. Luckily he was able to make it happen on such short notice. Kate was delighted to find a purple "flute" in her stocking this morning.

One of our presents to Kate was one of my old make up bags filled with glittery and pink make up and brushes from the dollar store. Kate was thrilled but the jury is still out on whether or not this was a good idea.

Sam had no idea it was Christmas this morning. He kept his usual routine of drinking milk from a bottle and crawling around looking for trouble. However, this morning he and Kate had a new set of wooden blocks from their grandma and grandpa all the way over in Argentina.

Sam's first order of business was to polish off the remaining cookie crumbs and Diet Coke we left for Santa the night before.  He also tried to eat the reindeer carrot.

Kate's big present from us was a Buzz Lightyear bike with a bumblebee helmet. At first she was a little apprehensive about making the switch from tricycle to big girl bike but once she got the hang of it, she was a pro. She kept telling us it was "so easy."

After opening presents we had a big Christmas breakfast of crescent rolls, scrambled eggs, bacon, and oranges. I felt like some sort of breakfast warrior putting this feast on the table. I had forgotten about Christmas breakfast until late last night and made the bold choice to brave the lines at Walgreens to try and forage for ingredients.

After breakfast and a wonderful Skype call with Dave's family we packed up the car and headed over to my parents' house for Christmas dinner, more presents, and a pair of special Christmas guests!  Kate really wanted to wear her new Elsa costume and I braided her hair like George Bailey's youngest daughter from It's a Wonderful Life.

One of Katelyn's favorite presents was a stuffed Peppa Pig doll.  A few weeks ago my mom and I were wandering around the Walmart toy department with the kids when Kate found this stuffed Peppa doll.  They bonded immediately and when it was time to leave, there was a tearful goodbye.  Kate very carefully nestled Peppa into an endcap display of toys and promised to "visit Peppa soon."  Well, this was just too much sadness for my mom and so she had me distract Kate while she secretly bought that exact Peppa doll right then and there.  Needless to say, the reunion of these two besties did not disappoint.

This year Katelyn has gotten really excited about birthdays. She loves a good celebration even if it isn't for her and she has found a reason to say or sing Happy Birthday nearly every day this year.

When we started talking about Christmas, we explained to her that we have parties and open presents and celebrate together because Christmas is Jesus's birthday. Kate was so excited about having a birthday party on Christmas day!  We even had a birthday cake.

After the birthday song was sung, the candles blown out, the piles of wrapping paper swept away, the babies bathed and tucked into their beds, the grown ups sat down to play Scattergories.  We had so much fun just sitting around talking and playing games and I laughed so hard I cried more than once.

At the end of the night, Dave and I had to borrow my mom's car to haul everything home.  The kids rode with Dave in their car seats so I drove alone listening to the last of the Christmas music on the radio. It almost felt overwhelming how happy I was and how grateful I felt.  I started to tear up a bit contemplating how blessed I have been.  I was mostly thinking of how much I love my family and how lucky I am to have them in my life.  An entire day of family fun can really bring that to the forefront of your mind.  Then I started thinking about the true meaning of Christmas and what that means to me.  I'm so thankful that many years ago a baby was born who lived and died for all of us.  Because of Him, I can live with my precious family forever.  Because of Him, I can start over again and again and still be forgiven.  Because of Him, there is nothing I will ever have to face on my own.  Because of Him, we all can live again.

And that is the greatest Christmas gift of all.

come listen to a prophet's voice

This weekend was General Conference which is basically one of my favorite times of the year.  Seriously, it is up there with Thanksgiving, Christmas, and my very own birthday.

If you have no clue what I'm talking about (which is totally okay) check out the link above.  My favorite description I've heard is in an article comparing General Conference to a series of TED Talks where the topics are religious and most of the speakers are older.  If you are looking for some amazing inspiration, check it out.

Every time I watch General Conference, there is always at least one talk that seems to be directed completely to me.  It speaks to the issues I am facing and leaves me feeling comforted, uplifted, and motivated to be a better person.

All of the talks I listened to this weekend were wonderful.  They all spoke of eternal truths that I know to be good and right.  But, after the last talk of the last session, I realized that I had not heard that one talk that gripped my soul and left me fighting back tears.

And then I remembered this talk.

Okay, I have been trying to figure out a way to upload or embed this video for like the past hour and a half.  Here's the link.  Link

And I realized that I didn't really get to listen to it.  I spent this twenty minutes of General Conference sitting in the dining room corner with Katelyn who was in a time out.  I didn't really hear much over the sounds of a time out tantrum.

So I watched it online tonight.  And this was the talk that was meant for me.  This was the message that I really, really needed to hear.

I have to explain that there really isn't anything going that wrong in my life.  If you listen to this message, you might wonder, "What trial is she going through that she needed to hear this?"  The embarrassing thing is I am not currently going through any major or newsworthy trials.  But I have been sad.  I've been sad for the past few weeks and I just don't know why.  I've spent hours out of every one of the last several days trying to dissect my life and current situation to figure out why I am sad.

This is what I needed to hear.

I'm not sad.  I've been ungrateful and that, I think, is worse than sad.  That means I have some serious work to do.  I sat on my living room couch watching this talk and cried tears of shame and guilt and hope and joy.  After it ended, I just sat there for a few minutes, finally grateful, especially for my Heavenly Father reminding me how to not be sad.

I have a testimony of the Gospel.  I believe in Jesus Christ and everything He did for me.  I know that my Heavenly Father loves me and answers my prayers.  I know He loves me even when my prayers have become litanies of whiny complaints and my requests for blessings have greatly outnumbered my expressions of gratitude and praise.  I know that happiness is found by being faithful to God and not by a nicer house, a bigger bank account, or more stuff.

I know all these things and I did before today.

But I still needed to hear it again.

an honorable woman

I'm finding myself becoming more and more of a prude.  It all started when Katelyn was born.  I was presented with a fresh-from-creation human being and an absolute specimen of perfection.  And, in that instant, I was also handed the responsibility of training her to become a righteous, responsible, happy, and well rounded adult.  All at the noble and wise age of twenty five.

As the days and week and months have rolled on, I find myself experiencing more and more of my world through her eyes and ears.  Instead of just listening to whatever is being broadcast on the radio or watching whatever airs on TV, I am tuning into the bigger message in case Kate sees or hears because, let me tell you, Kate sees and hears everything.

A few months ago, I was driving in my car and listening to the radio and a song came on that I had heard many times.  It wasn't a song that I particularly liked so I had never listened to it intently.  I didn't know what the words were and I never thought it mattered.  I mean, I wasn't really tuning in.

But, for some reason, this time I did.  And my ears perked up right as he said, From the top of the pole, I watch her go down.  She got me throwing my money around.  Ain't nothing more beautiful to be found.

And it was as if I had to stabilize myself from swerving off the road.  Mr. Flo Rida was talking about a stripper!  WITHIN EARSHOT OF MY BRAND NEW PERFECT PERSON!

So, now I listen for these things and I'm finding that I have to switch the radio station a lot.  Mostly, I just listen to NPR.

Really though, I've always kind of been a prude.  I've always tried to keep the muck of the world out of my car, my home, and my universe.

Apparently, not enough.

I love the movie Hook and that line where the little girl turns to Captain Hook and yells, "You need a mother very, very badly."  I mention that because that is what I would like to say to Mr. Flo Rida, and Mr. Robin Thicke, and Mr. Macklemore.

And don't even get me started on Master Bieber.

Stop telling my child and future children that it is okay to smoke enough marijuana to necessitate pilot gas masks.  That is unacceptable behavior!

It's not just the radio either.  Tonight, Dave and I were watching the Olympics.  Let me repeat it for emphasis.  THE OLYMPICS!  There should be no complaints about the Olympics, right?  Well, buckle up because during a commercial break, I saw my least favorite ad of all time.  It is for the Cosmopolitan casino in Las Vegas and basically consists of a series of words and pictures in the classic brainwashing style that say things like "Fight right" and "Wild gets laid" and "Normal is boring."  Dave and I looked at each other with open jaws and couldn't believe the audacity of evil.

And suddenly, part of me felt stupid.  I imagined us not as young twenty somethings just starting our family.  I saw us as an old curmudgeonly couple with reading glasses perched on our noses and permanent downward frowns on our faces.  Our fingers were arthritic from years of wagging at the youth of "these days" and we didn't know how to use our "newfangled" phones.  I was working on knitting some beastly looking sweater and Dave was only half watching the TV from behind a giant newspaper that nobody buys anymore because we all have computers.  And we smelled like old cough drops.

And that's the problem with our society.  Expressing shock and horror at a shocking and horrifying commercial is associated with an "inability to tolerate" or being "behind the times."  It is something to be embarrassed about and a sentiment to hide from everybody else.  Being a prude is so not cool.

Well, I'm not having it.  I'm a prude and I don't care who knows it.  In fact, I want everybody to know it.  Please help me guard my children from songs about stripper poles and commercials about casual sex.  I worry it's going to take more than just Dave and me to help them see the good in the world.  Please don't be afraid to be a prude with me.  We can even call it something else like, "Really Great Person Who Wants to Make Our Society a Little Better."  I mean, I guess that name is kind of long so I'm open to suggestions.  Or here's an idea.  The term prude originates from French meaning an "honorable woman."  How about that?

Anyway, my point is, I'm a prude and I'm fine with it.

The end.  Rant over.  For now.

don't forget to pray

Week two of the Year of Megan was all about prayer.

I have always been a praying person.  I was taught from a young age to pray several times a day - upon waking up in the morning, before meals, at the end of the night before I went to bed.  I prayed with my siblings.  I prayed with my parents.  I prayed with my family, with Dave, and now, with Kate.

With so much praying, you sometimes run the risk of becoming a little rote in your words.  Often I catch myself saying the same things and getting stale in my communication with God.  I found that my prayers had started to shift from thoughtful orations to a quick task to be accomplished before leaving the house for the day and after getting ready for bed.

But I know that's not how it should be.

So this week, I have really focused on saying meaningful prayers every day.  I made an effort not to rush through them.  I've tried to take the time to say something different than the things I said before.  Occasionally, I said things that were neither thoughts of gratitude or requests of blessings.  Sometimes I just talked.

I feel like I have a better understanding of the purpose of prayer after this week.

First of all, I realized how important the act of praying is merely as a time to quietly reflect on my day, my week, my month, my year, my life.  The first part of praying is expressing appreciation for the things I have.  So many times this week, I found myself enjoying a moment of peace on my knees as I was led to appreciate the wonderful blessings in my life.  This was most apparent after a hard day of complaining and self pity.

Next, I ask Heavenly Father to bless me.  There's something about praying that keeps you from asking for things that aren't' really important.  Prayer has a way of readjusting your life's vision to the things that matter most.  If you listen closely, you might even be prompted to know how to bless yourself by making changes in your mind set or actions.

That leads me to my next discovery about prayer.  I have often wondered why Heavenly Father wants us to pray when He already knows what I'm thinking and need.  I'm sure a large part of the reason is like I mentioned above.  Prayer offers a greater level of self awareness.  After I pray, I am more grateful for the things I already have and more motivated to make necessary changes in my own life.

But I also think that He just wants to hear from us.  I thought of it this way.  I know almost everything there is to know about Katelyn.  I know when she'll zig as opposed to zag.  I can predict a temper tantrum more accurately than a weatherman standing in the middle of a thunderstorm promising a good chance of rain.  She doesn't have to tell me what she needs because I am usually on top of it already.  She also doesn't have to tell me how much she relies on me.  Trust me I know.  Despite my omniscience when it comes to my daughter, I still want to hear from her.  I still want to know what she thinks about the hot dogs she's eating with her macaroni and cheese.  I want her to tell me when she's happy or sad or angry or hurt or excited or scared.  I want to hear from her because I love her.  I want her to talk to me even if I can already guess what she'll say.

I think Heavenly Father feels that way about us.  I think He loves us and wants to hear from us.

This has been such a rewarding week of focusing on prayer.  I'm so grateful for a way to communicate with my Father in Heaven.  I have always had a testimony that He listened and answered.  I feel like that testimony has been strengthened this week.

temple night

So one of the goals for Year of Megan is to visit the temple once a month with Dave.  If you are unfamiliar with what a temple is, check out this link for more information.

Dave and I love going to the temple.  However, we didn't realize how truly spoiled we were living in Utah until we moved here to Houston.  There is one temple in the Houston area and it is one the north side of town.  Like the way north side.  And we live on the south side.

I'm definitely not complaining because I vividly remember all day youth trips in a chartered bus when the only temple in Texas was in Dallas.  Actually, now that I think about it, those trips were super fun.  It was like all of my teenage friends crammed into one space for a wild long bus ride.  As fun as that was though, a temple in Dallas meant very limited trips.

Anyway, when we lived in Utah, there were several temples to choose from.  A trip to the temple meant hopping in the car and driving down the street.  A trip to the Houston temple requires planning and considerable forethought.  I left my house at four this afternoon to drop Katelyn off with my mom and dad and sister.  I made my way to the medical center to pick Dave up from work and then we braved the rush hour northbound traffic.  We finally made it home at eleven.  It was a seven hour event.

And we always get lost.  I don't even understand how it happens every time.  We always either miss an exit or get turned around or don't exit the freeway in time.  It's not even that difficult to find.  Once, we missed the exit on Beltway 8 (a huge freeway that loops around the city).  We didn't even notice that we missed the exit for several miles.  We both kept saying, "This all looks familiar."  It all looked familiar because we had missed the exit long enough to be recognizing landmarks of the way home.  Today's adventure was trying to find a major freeway downtown.  I don't understand how a native to the city and a man who is very good at navigating roads can get so mixed up.

I realize as I type this though that there are faithful members of the church who brave an even more arduous journey to enjoy the blessings of the temple.  There are those who have to save for transportation, endure long and uncomfortable bus rides, or even walk to get to the House of the Lord.  I used to wonder how they could make such sacrifices to get to the temple when they were already going to church on Sunday.

I understand it now.

Despite the long journey, the traffic, and the late night getting home, I'm always glad that we went to the temple.  I think my favorite part is the way that we treat each other when we leave.  It's like we are given a view of the much greater picture and vividly reminded of our purpose, our direction, and our meaning in life.  It's difficult to be short tempered or irritated when you have just felt the Spirit so strongly.

This was like the billionth picture we tried to take outside the temple.  After this one, Dave refused that take any more pictures.  Lol.

this weekend, i feasted

We spent the afternoon at my grandparents' house enjoying steaks that were almost as big as our dinner plates.  The Diet Coke was flowing freely and we ended our meal with apple crisp and a new treat of cinnamon roll cake.  (Dave has insisted that I get the recipe from my uncle.)  It was a wonderful meal.

But, as great as that meal was, most of the feasting I did this weekend was in the form of a spiritual buffet called General Conference.

The two weekends a year that we enjoy General Conference are probably my favorite of the year.   My family gathers together around the TV for spiritual enlightenment.  The feeling I get lounging around the living room with the people I love is reminiscent of an infamous hurricane scare where everything shuts down, no one goes to work, and we all stay indoors and, often, in the same room.  There is a feeling of heightened safety in the midst of destruction outside.  Even though we are aware of the perilous spinning storm somewhere out in the gulf, we are all together, safe in our home.

It isn't too surprising that General Conference gives me a similar sense of security.  Except, in this case, the spiraling maelstrom of evil is right outside my door and every other day, I find myself having to venture out, clutching the umbrella of the Gospel and trying to protect my family from the danger.

I really appreciate the respite for a weekend.  I feel safe and secure and we have a good time.  We eat good food.  We enjoy being together.  We gather together in the safety of our faith.

During one of my favorite talks, a prophet of the Lord spoke about the divine role of women in the home and I felt reassured of the decisions I am making in my life with my family.

As he was speaking, I just happened to be getting Katelyn out of the kitchen sink.  She had eaten a lunch of brisket and sweet potato fries and had covered herself in ketchup.  I brought her into the living room to dress her and comb her hair.  I listened as he spoke about the world needing women who were gentle and kind and suddenly, sitting on the floor combing a tangled snarly nest of toddler hair seemed more noble than usual.  I was reminded of all the ways I could be more loving and Christlike and committed to be a better mother. And then to top it off, when I had finished tending to Kate, she stood up, turned around, and kissed me before she ran off to play.

I almost burst into tears.

I am so grateful for the words I heard this weekend.  There were so many things I needed to hear.  There are so many ways I need to be better.  After such a wonderful conference, I'm ready to step back out and brave the storm.

baptism

Today my cousin Dallas was baptized.  It was an extra special event because his brother Dustin had just returned from a mission to New York City.  We were all invited to the church for the baptism and a family dinner afterwards.

Katelyn was having kind of a rough day but she was a good sport about everything.  She had been recovering from an ear infection and cold.  But by the end of the week she seemed to be doing fine.  She woke up this morning with a tiny fever from teething.  Instead of napping, she sat out in the living room with Dave and I watching Baby Einstein and eating Twizzlers.  By the time we were ready to go the infant Tylenol had worked its magic and we made the one hour drive with Aunt Lauren in the backseat feeding her chicken nuggets from McDonald's.

For the past several months Kate has been pretty picky about when she will smile for the camera.  She is on to us and doesn't really care to flash a grin or even look in the direction of the photographer.  In fact, I think she looks away on purpose just to be stubborn.

(I wonder where she gets that from?)

I'm so glad we were invited to such a special event.  It was so great to see family members and enjoy some time together.

come listen to a prophet's voice: a general conference pictorial

Saturday morning breakfast

ghetto connections

lunch break at fuzzy's

sharing a drink with Grammy

sharing a taco with Grammy

just a bit of conference crocheting

playdate at Matthew's house

legos

Rahzy was there too

bubbles!

girl's night with my friends Evelyn and Clarissa during Priesthood session

I had a great Conference weekend and can't wait for the next! :)