From Trev, With Love

Last night Darin and Jennifer and Lisa came "home" to Utah County with Bran, Luke, and Trevor in tow.  They dropped Lisa at the hospital in Orem, and she stayed with me until we could take our once-again bruised and bleeding motorcycle survivor (Bob/Grandpa) home to recuperate.  When I opened the door of our home,  we were greeted by the grown-ups fixing dinner for us, and the boys strutting about with glee.  And me?  I'm sure I could have caught a family of polygamist flies right in my wide open mouth.

But, seriously, I can't describe the relief I felt.  I really, really can't.  And even if I could, it would be way too schmoozy.  So let me just say that I was incredibly grateful that Bob would have some food in his stomach soon, and I could drag my tired, sorry self to bed.

Jen had assigned a few little tasks (vacuuming and such) to the older boys.  I don't think my house has ever looked more beautiful!  Remember the boys grinning from ear to ear?  Yep, that's what you feel when you make someone else happy.  It's pure magic.

Trevor did what he always does, follow behind his older brothers, making a valiant attempt to do everything they do.  A tough project for a little guy who is only 2 years old. But oh, how it warms my heart to watch him try.

After we set Grandpa up in a Lay-Z Boy recliner/rocker, we needed pillows.  Many pillows.  Grandpa has a wicked cast.  Luke and Brandon headed straight down the hall to our bedroom and grabbed several pillows from our bed.  We situated them under and around Bob's leg.  It was absolutely perfect, according to our patient, who was still somewhat under the influence.  Of anesthesia.

I felt a tug on my jeans.  It was Trevor.  He was holding a furry, shiny, squarish thing.  Sort of a brownish, goldish non-colored thing.  A pillow.  He walked over to Grandpa and said "Bampah egg dare."  I snuggled Trev's pillow around the cast.  Satisfied, he gave me a "Look what I did!" smile.

But I was momentarily puzzled.  I honestly didn't recognize this pillow.  It wasn't one of our regular white bed pillows for sure and it wasn't one of my collection of accent pillows.  But, it only took me a few minutes to see the light.  Trev had gone all the way downstairs to the big bedroom at the end of the hall in our basement, climbed up on a bed and picked up a throw pillow, the origin of which I'm not certain, because, as every parent knows, when our offspring move up and out all kinds of things surface.  But back to Trevor's journey.  He must have then slid/jumped off the bed, carefully holding onto his find, and carried it upstairs where he presented it to me.  Talk about understanding what was going on.  Talk about the rest of us not paying attention to what our two-year-old was doing on his own.  Talk about stealth!  Talk about sweet!

That pillow now adorns our couch in the upstairs kitchen/dining/fun-of-all-kinds area of our house.  I have passed by the pillow many times today as I have attended to Bob's needs.  And every time I look at it, an itsy bitsy tear tries to make it out of my eyeballs. There, in the form of a square, nubby, odd-colored sorta shiny pillow, is love from Trev to Bampah.

I don't think the pillow will go back down to the basement any time soon.

BYU 23, WASHINGTON STATE 17

I am confident the sentiment on my tombstone will read like this: "She died doing what she loved. Baking in the sun like a huge potato while cheering on the Cougars."

I bleed blue. And I'm a football fan(atic). And BYU's first home game was awesome! During halftime, BYU All-American quarterbacks of the past were honored. I remember them all--many of them were playing football whilst I was a student at Ye Olde School of the Brigham. (An aside. I'd bet money that most of those adorable students who were seated in rows in front of us aren't more than 12 years old. Funny, I don't remember getting older.) But I digress. Again.

May I introduce a pet peeve of mine:  Fans that sit in the stands and yell critical and scathing remarks at their own team.  This year, it started with the very first play of the game.  A man behind me shouted, "AW, COME ON, NELSON!  O'NEILL WAS WIDE OPEN ON THE 30 YARD LINE!  YOU'RE AN IDIOT!"  I resisted the urge to cream him.  I also resisted telling him to go suit up, because, clearly, the team needed his expertise and perfect vision.  There are very few things that make my blood boil, and this kind of behavior is one of them. Whatever happened to the Beach Boys' admonition to "Be True To Your School"?  Harrumph!

I wonder what was going on in this guy's living room last week when Air Force literally took BYU apart.  And during today's game at Florida State.  I shudder to think.  In fairness, maybe he was frustrated about an unprepared lesson for church the next day and was taking it out on the Cougars.  I don't know. I only know that I now must wait until our next home game to see if  "Mr. Mouth" has season tickets.  In those same seats.

Pray for me.

Facebook and Blogging

I've been wondering why some blogs I follow have significantly fewer postings. Even I, an expert at writing/blowing hot air, am not posting on my blog much. And I think I know why.

Facebook. A cousin of the blog.

I really enjoy Facebook. I love that it enables me to keep in touch with so many people in such a short period of time. It's a great way to say "hi" and "I'm thinking about you" on days that are packed full of commitments. I've even found some former college roommates with the help of Facebook. What a fun time we have had, catching up!

And then there is Family Feud on Facebook, the only game I play and my personal way of clearing the cobwebs when I have a lot on my mind. It's nice, occasionally, to put everything important on a shelf, and use my brain cells to try to guess how 100 "randomly surveyed" people think. Pure fluff. As fun as it is, it can go terribly wrong at times. In one game, the question that would make or break a win for me was, "Name something you'd see at a bar." Seven different things? What? Seven? I only got one. The obvious one. "Bartender."

I was then forced to listen to three separate, distinct, and horrific screechings of the "wrong answer" buzzer. If that buzzer could talk, it would be yelling, "Loser!"

But I digress. As always, there are downsides to new technology. I keep my Facebook privacy settings pretty tight, and it isn't my goal to have 1,000 "friends." As I keep repeating, I'm picky about my peeps. And if you can reach me on Facebook, you really are a Friend (with a capital F) whom I care about and love.

I like blogging, too. It allows me to exercise my writing skills, which for a long time have taken second chair to seemingly more important things. The other day, I looked back at our family blog. I was amazed at the history that is recorded there--one entry at a time. It has become a sort of family journal for us. I really like the memories, the feelings, the personal stuff that we write about there. My sweet mother often asks me,

"Are you writing, Judy?"

I finally get it, Mom.

And so, I'll try harder to keep my blog up to date, and still play around with Facebook when I have only 60 seconds to check in with my friends. I think the two can work together nicely.