Lock-Ins Where We Weren't Locked In

Some of my favorite memories are from my time at church, in our youth group. In particular I loved being apart of the lock-ins. Staying up all night long, hanging out, playing games and munching on snacks, what teenager could ask for more?!

(This was much of our youth group, I was one of the youngest- in yellow, in front of the building we used most often for our youth group meetings. It actually burned down, though I can't remember which year- I think it was when I was 17 or 18. The roof had caught fire and it was bad enough the building became unusable- at the time I was in charge of our AWANA store also housed in that building. I remember going through everything and it reeked of smoke, we couldn't use any of it.)

One of my favorite games was a form of hide and seek. Though the concept of a lock-in is being locked inside the church, our church was actually four buildings spread out over the church grounds, so we usually just took it as being 'locked' into the church grounds. So in the dark night, we would have 1 person go out and hide somewhere- inside or out. Then we all go out in search of them. The first person to find them is officially the winner, but once they are found instead of announcing it, you would join them in hiding until pretty much everyone was hiding there. One time when we were playing, it was my friend, Coley's, turn to hide. He found a great spot because we were completely at a loss and eventually had to start searching for him for real- game officially over. As it turned out, he had fallen asleep where he was hidden!! From then on we only played in partners.
At another lock-in, when we were playing that same game but in partners, it was Steve and Joe's turn to hide (at least I think it was those- but really any of the guys in youth group would've had this exact idea!). On our church property there was a huge back lot where a new building was always planned to be built (as of now I still don't think it has happened yet!). The ground was very uneven. Mounds of earth here and there, between ditches. During our normal youth group time each Sunday evening, we would often play capture the flag up there. It was perfect for it. Well the lot is surrounded by woods. Well Steve and Joe went out to hide, and pretty soon we all went out, in pairs, to search for them. After not too long, we started hearing this loud crack, I mean really loud hard to ignore, and if I remember right, there was also a bright flash of some sort. It seemed to be coming from the back lot, so my friend Shannah who was my partner, and another pair of girls, Deanna and Emily, all went up to the back lot. Of course it was dark and the ground was uneven, so it was creepy back there, but we walked along the edges, though not getting too terribly close to the woods. We were talking about how they better not be back in the woods, because that would be out of bounds. And then all the sudden they jumped out from the trees (well, not so much jumped as, set off whatever toy they were using to make the loud noise and bright flash of light, and they yelled something from up in a tree right at the edge- in daylight they would've been completely visible), catching me and the other girls off guard as we screamed and jumped back- me unfortunately into a huge puddle! I wasn't very happy at the time, but I smile when I look back and think of it now.
Why can't adults have lock-ins and play games like that?!! I totally miss it!

Another New School and Meeting New Family

A new year and another new school. Shortly after my mom had us move from the nice big blue house to a small 2 bedroom apartment, I started at a new school, and not just any new school, a brand new, just built, middle school! It was only a year or 2 old and the first school I would be attending without my younger sister Carolyn. There was 5th through 7th grade here before moving up to the high school which started at 8th grade. To prepare us for high school, we actually had our classes set up a little differently then I was used to here. Our teachers were in pairs, and as my home room was Mrs. P, she would have us most of the day for math, geography, and history, we would go over to Mrs. S room next door for her to teach us reading and writing, while her class was in our room learning the math and history from our teacher. Our classes did a lot of the other 'extra' stuff together as well, like art, typing, library time, etc. I had great friends in both rooms, though my closest circle of friends was in Mrs. S's homeroom. Actually overall, I liked Mrs. S better then my normal teacher. Not that Mrs. P wasn't nice enough, but I found her boring- though it may relate to the material she was teaching as well. I adored Mrs. S, she was more personable, kind, uplifting, encouraging, and she taught my favorite subjects! She was probably the earliest teacher I remember having that really helped me develop my love for the written word- both the read and write.
Though I had many more friends in this new school, I was still not very good in the social area. I often was teased as I would wear the same over sized white Halloween sweatshirt, over one of 2 turtle necks with one of 2 pairs of stretch pants I owned, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Don't get me wrong they were clean. Every 2 days I did a very small load of clothes. But this was a time when jeans were the 'in' thing to be wearing, and fashion was becoming quite the social status as we entered the preteen years. To me, jeans were the most uncomfortable piece of clothing ever. I couldn't stand them, and being comfortable was more important to me then being socially accepted- though I longed for that too. Luckily I did have some very good friends who didn't care what I wore!
There was Lydia, she was in Mrs. P's class with me. She was a wonderful artist, she could draw a perfect picture of Bambi completely freehand! I thought she was amazing, but she wasn't a fan of my ever changing mood swings, and we often weren't talking for one reason or another.
There was Shardae, she actually lived in the same apartment complex as me. She was also in Mrs. P's class but she was a social butterfly, and between her and another friend of hers named Jenna, we too were on and off a whole lot. It didn't help that her brother who was 2 years older didn't like me and often threatened me. Funny because honestly if anyone was the bad influence it was her, not me! But she did teach me how to roller blade which we would do a lot in the parking lots of our huge apartment complex.
Then there were my friend's in the other class, the ones that were truly my closest friends that year, Rachel, Katie and Katie. I remember once going to Rachel's house for her birthday. 2 of us (me included) decided we would head bang for as long as we could- don't ask me why. We head banged to some music I wasn't familiar with for an hour straight. That was when I had my first migraine I believe and I ended up going home SO sick. I threw up more then I ever did with the flu in that one time!!
Katie M. was the one I would end up missing the most when we moved yet again at the end of this year. I always thought she was so pretty with her dark short hair, and she was the sweetest girl I had ever met. Before I moved away she even made me something she said she was going to put on a pillow but ran out of time, one of those yarn things (you knot it onto a piece of plastic?? Not sure what it is called but I still see the kits for it at craft stores now) with Winnie the Pooh's face on it. She also gave me a large Mickey Mouse she had gotten at Disneyland the year before, so I could have something to remember her by (I collected stuffed animals). I was so sad we never ended up keeping in touch, but I think we both knew it wasn't likely.
Half way through the year, we actually moved again. This time to a bigger 3 bedroom unit and either my grandma moved in with us or just visited A LOT!
Over spring break this year, for the first time, I went on a trip to see my dad's parents. I had not spent much time with them up to this point, so this was a new experience. They owned an RV, so they came all the way up from California to pick up my sister Carolyn and I and drove back down. I enjoyed the road trip most. I had never been in an RV before and I thought it was the coolest thing. We had to stop for something to be fixed on the RV in Oregon and my Granny taught us how to play Rummicub. We also stopped in southern Oregon again were my Papa went fishing and we picked blackberries. It was beautiful were we stopped in Brookings. I think it was by a river in this RV site, and I only wish I had had a camera back then!
When we finally made it too their house in California, we met our Aunts and Uncles for the first time. There was Aunt Jane & Uncle Leon who lived on the same property (there were 3 houses on the property). Then Aunt Leila who lived out in town and we didn't see much of. Our cousins, Mary, Leon, and Elizabeth came over to play often though. We even went to one of Mary's swim meets.
This is also where I learned almonds grow on trees! In fact my grandparents had at one time had acres of almond trees. Unfortunately most had died and the land was sold, but there were still a few trees behind my Papa's shed. They also had citrus plants in their front yard with oranges, lemons and limes. And my granddad (Granny's father) who lived in another of the houses on the property, had his own garden which grew pretty much everything I could imagine! There were even little fig trees (though they looked more like bushes to me). I tried one, but I thought they were disgusting. The thing I enjoyed most were the grape vines though, those I definitely ate and loved!
Another new thing I learned about on our trip was black widows. Now I had grown up with a healthy fear of spiders (still very active today in fact!), and in the RV on the way to California, we had seen a show about some of the world's smallest but deadliest predators, one of them was the black widow. I was terrified! I imagined seeing them all over the place when we got there and wondered how anyone survived living in such a place! My grandparents warned us about not putting our hands places we couldn't already see first, particularly when we were outdoors. But I had so many nightmares of them the whole trip.
Another part of our trip was going to visit my Aunt Terri and Uncle Nelson. I loved Aunt Terri from that very first time I met her. She is my dad's older sister, and she lived hours away from my grandparents. At her house was a pool, and we went swimming and had virgin strawberry daiquiris. During the day at one point I made a comment that I really liked her little green flower earrings, so she took them off and gave them to me! I felt very special and instantly her kindness comforted me and I felt closer to her then any of the other relatives I had met.
When it was time to go back home, my Granny talked to my mom, then to us girls. She wanted to fly us back, but we had never been on a plane before and I was scared of heights and flying in general! Eventually she convinced us, how could I pass up being home in a few hours verses a few days? We left from the Oakland airport. This was of course when others could walk you all the way to the gate, and wait with you. We waited and I watched the airplane get hooked up to the tunnel with much anxiousness but also excitement. I was scared of it, but it was a new experience and seemed so grown up, especially since we would be going alone, just me and my sister. All I remember about the flight is that we didn't sit together. We both wanted a window seat, so she sat behind me. I remember the rows were like 4 or 5 people in on each side of the aisle. And though I have never seen this set up in a plane since, there was a table and every other row faced each other. So I was sitting in a seat across from a middle aged woman. Ideally my sister would've sat opposite me, but we didn't board in time to find any seats like that both with windows. After that I don't even remember taking off or landing, accept that it was difficult to get off once we did land as EVERYONE was trying to get their bags down and rush off the plane, so we had to wait.
That following summer we moved back into my grandma's house where we had lived from 1st to 4th grade.

To read more about my relationship with my sister Carolyn and what NOT to do with scissors, check out my 5th grade post from last session. (I promise it is shorter then this one!!)

This is the 7th post in a series of 12 I am doing to record my youth to share with my children and grandchildren someday at

Shaking the House Down!

Fourth grade was first year we moved that I remember actually being effected by it socially. From 1st through half of 4th grade we had been living at my grandma's house, not far from my school. I had so many wonderful teachers at the school, and great friends from my years there, I don't know that I was 'popular' but I was comfortable for certain. Then we moved as my mom and stepfather tried to reconcile, he even bought me a puppy at Christmas and my little sister a nice CD player, which I always suspected as a way to get back on my mom's good side. And apparently it worked, as we moved closer to their job, a computer type of business (think Kinko's)about half an hour away.
My sister and I began attending a school we had passed many time in the past and always thought looked old fashioned and run down compared to the nice, new and clean facility our prior elementary school had been. I don't think it was a bad part of town, but the school hadn't been updated in a long time, evident by one example- they still used the card system in the library instead of computers. Our old school had taught us how to use it, but only as a formality because we rarely ever had too.
Growing up at my grandma's house, I remember always being jealous of the kids who lived so close to school they could walk. We were close enough, but not quite that close. My feelings towards that all changed when we had moved just up the road from this new old school, and now I actually did have no other choice but to walk. It was also the first time I had to worry about carrying a house key with me since my grandma didn't initially live with us, so we came home to a big empty house most days.
It was another big blue house, one of the biggest and nicest I remember living in, with a huge fenced in back yard and a basketball court too. I remember being excited about it, but then rarely going out to play. I was definitely an indoors kind of girl.
As for school, I was in a split class. I was in the older group of 4th graders which was just a handful of kids compared to the 3rd graders in our class. I don't know if its just a part of the 'oldest sibling' syndrome, but I was very upset at the fact that I was better friends with the younger 'little' kids then those my own age. Apparently at this school, by 4th grade most students had already learned about the 'birds and the bees' but I hadn't yet. I was considered very naive by my 4th grade classmates, and I always felt so small in that class. Thankfully it was the one and only split class I was ever in, but it began a pattern of a lack of self confidence in myself which continued and contributed to the rest of my school years.
At home, it didn't take very long for my mom to decide that her marriage was beyond reconciliation. I barely remember my stepfather being around when we lived in that house. One night, I think it was somewhat stormy outside, so my mom decided we would all sleep on the pullout sofa in the living room for fun. I don't remember if it was just me and my sister Carolyn or if the 2 youngest of my siblings were there too, but we waited on the couch as my mom ran upstairs to get some linens. Then there was an earthquake. Not surprising for the area, and to a kid it was great fun! And from upstairs my mom yelled down to us- "Hey girls, stop rough housing, you're shaking the whole house!" And we were just sitting on the couch laughing at our little secret because we knew it had been an earthquake and she didn't! We told her when she came back down, but I remember wondering how she could possibly have thought it was us since everyone knows you can't shake the house from the downstairs, just the upstairs!!
Well at the end of the school year, since my mom could no longer afford to for us to live in such a big house, it was time for another move. This time to some apartments in a different part of the city, where we would go to a brand new school, and I couldn't be happier!

This is the 6th post in a series of 12 I am doing to record my youth for my children and grandchildren to read someday at

The Gift of Hospitality

So this week I am going to focus on some dear friends of ours, whom we miss dearly, but even that is so broad because we have many friends we wish could be closer to us! I will never forget Mikayla and Jason's wonderful hospitality towards us as we prepared to move from our East Coast home, to Guam.

We had met Mikayla and Jason in our young adult couple's Sunday school class at church. It was around September 2007 when we first got back to the East coast. I had spent the time Jon was in Cuba, living with my mom across the country, but it was nice to be back to the first place we had really had to establish our home as an independent couple. I admit while I loved being home and all the familiar things where I grew up, the business and wide range of city life had grown on me. I enjoyed being in a 'mega church', which was a huge change from my small town church of maybe 100 attenders on a very good day.
I don't remember exactly the how fast it all happened, but we clicked. We had finally found friends we felt comfortable with, that were at a similar point in life. We enjoyed having Mikayla and Jason over for dinner, and we spent time at their place, or out to eat as well. In fact, they introduced us to the Wii. It was New Year's Eve, we went over to their house for dinner and ended up staying until 1 am (I don't remember if that was actually the plan). For hours we played Wii Tennis, Bowling and Boxing. I felt like I was in youth group again, at one of our regular lock-ins! I had never had so much fun on New Year's Eve before! Natalie behaved quite well, even into the lateness of the night.
Fast forward to February, Mikayla was quickly approaching the due date of their first child. We had invited them over for dinner one night, and Mikayla was complaining of back pain. Well the next morning I got a call from Jason asking what was in that dinner because Mikayla was in labor!! They asked us if we could bring our camera because they didn't have theirs, you see Mikayla had been going to her morning OB appointment and the doctor was concerned about the baby's heartbeat, so she was sent to the hospital right from the clinic. So Jon stayed home with Natalie, as I went up to the hospital. Jason's sister was supposed to be there for the birth, another person to help Mikayla and the baby, but since baby Hannah arrived a few weeks early, his sister hadn't yet flown in yet (I think she was coming within a few days). I was only too happy to help when I got the the hospital, and whether it was from so much pain, Mikayla just didn't care, or because she really did want another woman there, she let me stay to help however I could. I considered it an honor. And I guess it was a help, because I was able to take pictures of there first moments as a family together! I wish someone had been at the births of my children to snap some early photos, but it just wasn't a priority for me or my husband to be taking pictures at the time!

About 4-5 months later, as we prepared for our move to Guam, leaving Mikayla, Hannah, and Jason, they were kind enough to let us stay with them. When it comes to overseas moves with the military it can take up to 2 months for our household goods to make the long journey to us, so we wanted to send it as soon as we could. What better time then right before I would be gone myself, with Natalie (2 1/2 at the time) to visit my mom for her wedding for 3 weeks the month before our overseas journey truly began. And when I returned home our apartment lease was ended, our stuff was gone, and Natalie and I stayed with Mikayla and Jason in their brand new house (which they were remodeling at the time!). Jon stayed with another friend, Eric, from his from work (who also had a young baby born the same month as Hannah), and who lived much closer to work, and he came over during the day to help with Natalie and Hannah when he wasn't babysitting Ava as a favor to Eric. Of course, I was in my 1st trimester of pregnancy with Zachary, which meant I was often nauseous, but as much as I could during the days while Mikayla was at work, and Jason was working on the remodel I played with Hannah and Natalie. It was actually a lot of fun, though it was cramped, during these few weeks. There was no one I would've rather spent so much time with before we left Virginia.
During our few weeks there we even went all together to Busch Gardens for the 4th of July. It was Natalie's first time at an amusement park and boy did she love the rides! And would you know, of all the years we spent in Virginia, so near to Busch Gardens which we could get one free pass to each year (military special), and both time we went I was in my first trimester of pregnancy!! The other time was when my mom and sister had visited us and I was 12 weeks pregnant with Natalie, and though I begged the doctor, they said I should NOT go on ANY rides at all! With my fear of miscarrying again, I did not dare to question that as much as I wanted too, and it was the same way the second time around. So though I enjoyed the shops and shows and even fireworks Busch Gardens had to offer, the closest I got to any ride was the train that ran through the park to shuttle guests from one 'country' to another.

Another fun story from while we stayed at Mikayla and Jason's house was first discovering Natalie had inherited my fear of bugs. While I am really only particularly scared of spiders and any bees or wasps, Natalie couldn't tell the difference at this age. One day when I sent her to the room we were staying in because she was in trouble, almost as soon as the door closed I heard the most ear piercing scream. When I went inside, Natalie was climbing from her small toddler size air mattress onto the taller queen size one, as fast as she could move. When I asked her what was wrong, in her panic she cried "There's a bug!!!" And I looked to see a housefly on her pillow! I couldn't stop laughing as I tried (and still try today) to convince her that flies and ants won't hurt her!

This is a post to record my Young Adult years at

Little Moments of Life On Base

Around the age of 6, my mother had recently had a new baby girl (this made me the oldest of 3), and my grandfather and cousin had passed away, it was quite a year. But I still remember some little moments of everyday life surrounding those giant ones.
My stepfather was in the Navy on submarines, so we had the privilege, I always thought, of living in a house on base. It was situated on a col-de-sac, which was neat because it gave me plenty of space to ride my bike. That was the year I learned to ride a 2 wheeler, and boy did I! Growing up, we rarely lived in communities I was able to do this in very much- busy, crowded apartment complexes, or my Grandma's house which is out in the boonies surrounded by trees and a road with many steep hills. But on base, I enjoyed many fun pastimes that year.
Once we got invited to a friend's pool party. I remember being in awe that that had a pool in their very own back yard! It was above ground, and I just remember thinking it was huge!! To a six year old, it was very deep and plenty of space to swim and play. In the future when I saw above ground pools, I always thought they were lame and not deep enough, but this one stands out in my memory as being the biggest one I have ever seen (because I was so little at the time!). I even imagined what it would be like if we bent one of the sides over, like you could in the little kid pools, and the water flooded out. I pictured it being so much, it would wash away the cars from the street!
Then there was my own backyard, or it may have been our neighbors. I just remember that as it had a decline into the trees at the back, there was a little fenced in area, and steps cut right into the hillside. No wood, or stones, just the dirt, like someone took a shove at a perfect 90 degree angle to make steps up into the yard in the steep grassy hill. That part must have been on our neighbor's side, because I remember trying to get my stepfather to do it in our yard but he wouldn't.
Another brief glimpse from my life as a submariner's step-daughter, was going down to meet the submarine when it pulled in after a 3 or 6 month departure. One time particularly, my mom dressed me in this very patriotic dress, with red and white stripes along the bodice and a puffy skirt of blue with white stars. We got on a bus that took us into the restricted area where the submarines docked, though I don't even remember seeing my stepfather get off, just being on the bus in a dress I actually really liked that was perfect for the occasion.
I also remember listening to a lot of Ace of Base in my grandma's old white Subaru as she drove us everywhere. She lived with us here, as well as almost anywhere else we went, and she took care of me and my sisters.

This is the 3rd in a series of 12 posts I am doing to record my youth for my children and grandchildren at

Who Wants to Marry Me This Time?

I am honestly not sure when exactly this was, but I do remember I went to a school of some sort- whether is was preschool or grade school is sorta jumbled up in my memory.
I do remember that my mother and stepfather were managers of an apartment complex and while they lived in an apartment close the the front of the complex, beside the office, I actually lived with my grandma in a small two bedroom unit towards the back. It was just her and I, as my sisters (I think this was before my youngest sibling was born) lived with my mom.
I remember coming home from school and watching Care Bears in my Grandma's living room with my sister Carolyn. And sometimes if we were really good, we would get to have some fruit snacks, something my mom never kept in her own home.
And one of the good things about living in an apartment complex is having friends who live right outside your very own door! There were two little boys, brothers, who lived just across a small courtyard type area. And as any little girl, my favorite game was pretending to get married! In fact I had my first kiss (just a little peck on the lips- but that was a big deal to a very young girl!) with the older of the brothers. Though in fact, they would argue over who got to play the groom, and boy did that make me feel good!! Probably the only time in my whole life I had boys fighting over me!!

This is my 2nd post in a 12 week series I am doing to record my youth for my children at
.

Our First Big Military Move

As our first anniversary was only a month away, it came time for our big move out into the world. After the wedding we had decided to save money by continuing to live with my mom since the downstairs acted as almost a duplex. My sister's were on one side, then Jon and I shared the master on the other side of the house. We had our own kitchen and shared a bathroom with 2 of my sisters. I look back and think, POOR Jon! He was the only man in a house full of women for almost a year!
But after Thanksgiving in 2004, we packed up my silver Escort and said our goodbyes. With Diamond, our little black Pomeranian, and a map, we made our way from Washington state to Virginia. It took us a week. We took the long way going down through Oregon and California then crossing into states like Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas. That part of our journey was fairly uneventful. Though at a gas station just before hitting California, a gentleman was nice enough to point out that our tires looked like it was about to go flat. Luckily where we had stopped sold tires and it was early in the day, so we hung out a little bit as they replaced the tire, which I am sure saved us a lot of grief later down the road had something happened to the tire while we were out in the middle of nowhere at night!
We made no stops to rest until we were in Oklahoma, where we visited with Jon's family for a couple of days. We were quite anxious to make it to our new home and find an apartment. We made the rest of our journey going through Arkansas and Tennessee before finally reaching the Western tip of Virginia. Now reading the map, I thought it would be quicker to take a smaller rural highway through the bottom of the state to the coast, rather the go up and around, then back down to our final destination in Hampton Roads. So following the map we got off the interstate and looked for the rural highway. What we hadn't noticed was that this road was twisting and winding its way through a national forest!
We happened upon this portion of our journey as it had just begun to get dark out. So in the dark of night, on roads that were unbelievably twisting and going up and down the heavily forested countryside, we made our way going about 25 miles per hour. There were few and far between buildings of any sort. It was like something out of a horror movie. We had to stop once on the side of the road as the roads were making me dizzy, and already 9 weeks pregnant (with my first pregnancy which I miscarried), I had to throw up. It was the worst part of our whole road trip. We happened upon this old gas station, that didn't even take any credit cards, but luckily we had enough cash on us. The machines were dusty and had the sort of numbers that flipped down instead of something digital and technologically advanced! Even the men behind the counter looked like a cross between comical hill billies and horrifying mountain men.
Just as I was about to need another stop for my protesting stomach, we stumbled out of the dark woods and onto civilization of some sort. It was a small little town with very few hotels, but we quickly got checked into the Holiday Inn, where I continued to feel sick, but finally got some much needed rest.
I woke up feeling much better the next morning and ready to hit the road again. After the continental breakfast we received directions to get back onto the interstate going north, where it would intersect with the original interstate we never should've gotten off of. After that our journey was much easier for the last few hours.
When we arrived in Virginia though, we were greeted with the new problem, finding an apartment. This proved to be difficult since not many places took pets. And the best looking ones had income restrictions which we only barely exceeded. In fact all the places I had looked up prior to leaving fell in that category though none had that specific requirement listed on their websites. I had even called some to find out more information and still had not been told this rather important detail. But on our second day there, we did manage to find a suitable apartment which was our home for the next 2 years.

This is the 1st post in a 7 week series I am doing to record some memories from my young adult years at .

In Labor? Let's Go Eat!

Though I think most women when they are at the end of their first pregnancy would be anxious to get it over with, from the stories I have heard, I don't think my mom was. When she went into labor with me, instead of worrying about making it to the hospital, she went out to eat! No wonder I love Chinese food, because that's where she went. It's very hard for me to imagine this, the last thing I was worried about when I was in labor with my first child, was food. I just wanted to get checked into the hospital!! But knowing my mom, she is a much stronger woman then I am.
I have been reminded much throughout my life, that she was in labor with me for around 36 hours. A number I feared, since I have been told a woman takes after her mother when it comes to how long labor may last- and yes, my first was around 32 hours or so. I had an epidural, I am not sure if my mom did or not, but I know she had back labor. I was a pain in her back from the beginning!
As for breastfed or bottle fed, a very hot topic for moms now, I was bottle fed. My mom tried to breastfeed me, but it was too rough on her and she was in a lot of pain, so it didn't last long. And again, like mother, like daughter, I was unable to breastfeed for similar reasons.
For the short story of how I got my name, check out this post.

This is the 1st in a series of 12 posts to record my youth for my children at

Join Me in Recording My Youth!

It is weird to NOT write a Mommy's Piggy Tales memory post this week! I have enjoyed so much sharing my own life but also reading about other people's stories as well. No two stories are the same, God gives us each a very unique and wonderful life that can never match up perfectly with anyone else anywhere or any time!! How awesome is that?!!

I am so excited though that Janna will be starting a second session of Mommy's Piggy Tales beginning October 7th. So if you didn't participate (or even if you did!) in the first one, you have a second chance!!

I am a very detail oriented, and sentimental person. I wish my own mother and grandmother had a copy of their life stories to share with me! I would love to read about what like was life for them growing up and see how it differed from mine. It has been a huge blessing to write out my own, so that someday I can leave a legacy for my children. Maybe they will learn from some of my mistakes, or maybe they will just have a more clearer picture of me, not just as their mom, but as a woman who once was a girl. It's so hard to believe that huh? Our mom's were once girls, and they felt some of the same emotions we felt in our own youth!

Now, to participate is so easy! All you have to do is share a little or a lot each week about a different year of your life. I know personally, just reading through some of the other ladies post's helped me trigger some memories of my own that were buried in my mind. Or look at a picture album, pictures capture moments in time and help us to look back and remember, use them! Talk to your family, see what they remember about certain events in your personal history. Maybe you have a recipe that trigger childhood memories, share that! Or a favorite childhood toy or book. It is so open-ended, anyone can do it!!

If you want to give it a shot, contact Janna at
and link up on October 7th. Hope to see you there!!

I Will Meet You in Heaven Someday

Loss of any kind is difficult. It isn't something most can anticipate, and it is often hard to accept, especially when the wounds are still fresh.

Although my family picture only has 4 individuals in it, we are actually a family of 6. Two of my precious children went to meet the Lord before I even got a chance to meet them.

Jon and I had tried for about 8 months before conceiving our first child. That baby would have been due around July 10, 2005. I have tried to match a reason to my loss, but that early, there is just no way of knowing for certain. Was it the drive Jon and I made at 9 weeks, from one side of the country to the other? It was a stressful time, those days were the first I had ever been away from my home without the intention of soon returning. Still nothing happened to indicate any problems until 12 weeks, when some spotting and a panicked trip to the ER resulted in the tragic news that I would not be meeting my first baby here on this earth. What made it more difficult was the month that followed as I literally went through the birth pains as my body did what it was intended to in this situation. I wish there had been a way to know if I had a little boy or girl then. I wish I could've named them and given them a proper goodbye, but for some reason, the world doesn't hold these very young ones as actual babies, little souls once alive inside of their mommies. But I know I will meet this little one again someday in my heavenly home.
About three months later, I discovered I was pregnant with my Natalie, and a year after first feeling what birth pains were, I had my second baby in my arms.

I also want to share, I don't believe it is ever to early to share the news of a pregnancy with your friends and family. When I first discovered I was pregnant with my little one, I immediately shared our joyful news with our entire church, and much to the surprise of some, I was only 5 weeks along. I was told I should wait to tell others until I had 'made it through' the first trimester in case I lost the baby. Well I did lose that precious little one, but just as my friends rejoiced with me in the news of the pregnancy, they also were there to mourn with me the loss of my baby. If I hadn't shared, then no one would've known to pray for me. No one would've known to comfort and encourage me in my time of sadness. I have no regrets about sharing my news early.

Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. ~Romans 12:15

It was the week of Thanksgiving, and I started it with much gladness. On a whim I bought a pregnancy test on my way into work. I wasn't really late yet, but somehow I just felt like something was different. We weren't trying, though we weren't actively trying to prevent anything. Jon and Natalie were with me. It was a Monday night, and I was working childcare while Jon went to a men's bible study group. Before I clocked in, I ran to the bathroom with my digital test- I didn't want any questions in my mind, just a 'pregnant' or 'not pregnant' reading very clearly displayed in words. After a few minutes I emerged and gave Jon the exciting news before sharing it with my boss and good friend Angela. I was overjoyed, around July 26, 2008, I would have another little baby to call my own. Despite my first miscarriage, and careful concern while first pregnant with Natalie, I thought miscarrying was behind me, but I was wrong. I spent one night sharing the good news with all my friends and family back home, only to have to place the calls again with tears barely a week later. Thanksgiving day I began spotting, and spent most of the afternoon and early evening in the ER. All the doctors could tell me, despite a pregnancy test done at the clinic the day before confirming my pregnancy, was that now all tests were coming back inconclusive as to whether I was even pregnant or not. My heart fell, and given my experience, my hope was snuffed out. Sure enough over the long weekend, it was confirmed by my own body, which I felt betrayed by, that I was losing my third child. And though I realize now that I will still meet them someday in heaven, during my time of grief, I was not comforted by it because I still did not understand why once again I had lost my baby. Because God's ways are not our ways, and we can't always understand or see what good can come of it. That's when faith comes in.
And sure enough 7 months later, when we had committed to not trying to get pregnant in anticipation of our big move to Guam, God surprised us with a wonderful gift, in the form of a 4th pregnancy, my little boy, Zachary. And though I feared another miscarriage under the stress of another military move, this time overseas, Zachary stayed right where he belonged during our travels which happened again around 9 weeks along, all the way until well past his due date.

I still don't understand God's ways in the loss I suffered. But I do realize I wouldn't have either Natalie or Zachary if God hadn't called my other babies home so early. And I hope that maybe somehow, by sharing what I have been through it might bring peace and comfort to others who have suffered this type of loss as well. It is never easy to lose a child, no matter how early. Pregnancy is a time of rejoicing in a new life about to enter this world, and no one expects to have that cut short so quickly. But if we remember to look to God, and find our comfort in Him, knowing His plans for us are bigger then our own, we can find peace in our grief.

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted." ~Jesus, Matthew 5:4

"For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways," declares the Lord. "For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways and My thoughts than your thoughts." ~Isaiah 55:8-9

And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. ~Romans 8:28

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. ~2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Working with Jeff

This is the final week for session one of Mommy's Piggy Tales! YAY! I made it!

This week's post is actually during my senior year and the summer following (though this week is 'post' high school), this is what truly stood out in my mind when I sat down to write, and since it is work related not school related so much I thought it works still. But I plan on continuing on with more post high school memories on Mondays with Janna starting in October.

My first job was at a thrift store. I got the job just before I turned 16 because my mom was the manager. I will save the details of it for another day (in session two of Mommy's Piggy Tales). When I was 18, and still in school, there was a new guy at work. His name was Jeff. He was handsome, with dark brown hair, and the type of eyes that always had that sparkle in them. And yes, briefly I had a crush on him. He wasn't too much older then me, and he made me laugh. I enjoyed working even the night shift if I was closing with him. He worked hard, so I wasn't picking up someone else's slack, but he also made it fun. But as for the crush, I knew it was just that, and I didn't agree with his lifestyle choices by a long shot. Lets just say he would not have been attracted to me no matter how beautiful of a girl I was. But we were friends, not close, but work friends. Though we had never hung out after work before I had actually asked Jeff to take me to my prom before I had gotten up the courage to ask Jon (see last week's post). Jeff agreed to be my 'date' if Jon couldn't go, but luckily Jon said yes, and Jeff was genuinely excited for me when he did.

One night Jeff and I were scheduled to work the closing shift with our supervisor Shawn. These were my favorite nights because Shawn was pretty laid back and one of the nicer supervisors. She didn't get mad or irritated when you needed help, she just helped you. And she wouldn't give into the customers who were being ridiculous asking for things to be marked down, at least not as much as some of the other supervisors did.
My night started right after school around 3, but Jeff wasn't supposed to show until 5, which is also when our second supervisor Sharon would leave for the night, and only the 3 of us would be left. it was shortly before 5 and the phone rang. I happened to be at the registers beside the phone, so I answered it. It was Jeff, he sounded...different. His emotionless voice told me he wasn't coming in again, ever. I was so confused, the way he was talking scared me. I don't remember who ended up taking the phone from me, Shawn or Sharon, but one of them did.
Later Sharon pulled me in the back, I was upset because something was obviously wrong. Though Jeff and I weren't very close, I still cared enough about him to want him to be okay. I don't remember exactly how much Sharon told me, but basically that Jeff wouldn't be coming back to work, but that he needed help. It was decided since it wasn't very busy, that Shawn and I could close just the two of us, though Sharon stayed later then planned. Once she left Shawn made more phone calls to Jeff to see how he was. Shawn and Jeff were close, at least for how close they could be as a supervisor and employee, they hung out after work sometimes with some other co-workers, doing things I would never have even if I had been old enough. I was always the naive and innocent manager's daughter, but I was okay with that- I knew I didn't want to know anything about that other life.
Shawn was getting very worried about Jeff, and told me she decided to go check on him after we closed (9 pm). Though she fought me at first, I told her I wanted to help him too, and if she didn't agree to it I would just follow her there anyway, so she caved. We rushed through all the after hours tasks, preparing for the next day, and were out the door pretty quickly. Jeff's place was actually right on my way home, though we had to park on a different road since it was only street parking in that part of town. I was glad Shawn had agreed to take me since I probably would've chickened out just realizing how dark that area was and parking a whole street away to walk wouldn't have seemed safe alone. We got to Jeff's house, his parents were across the country visiting family and this was actually one of the rare times he didn't go with them. He let us inside. I was shocked at how he looked, I don't think I had ever seen someone look that pale before. Like all the life had drained from his face, and the sparkle in his eyes was gone, in fact he didn't really seem to 'see' anything, just stared. He moved so slowly and steadily, as if just on auto pilot. Shawn told him to get his things, she didn't want to leave him alone, so he would go home with her. I don't remember what his reasoning had been, but he had locked the basement and thrown his house key down the laundry shoot, so we had to find a way to get to it before we left. The whole time I don't remember saying much. I cried, I hugged him, and just watched in shock at how different this person was to me. Like night and day. I helped Shawn eventually get him to the car and I got in my own and went home. I don't think I slept much that night.
Jeff never came back to work, though he stayed with Shawn and her family until his own came home. I wrote him a letter, which Shawn gave to him. His parents had decided to move him back to the East Coast where they were originally from and he had more family and friends. I hoped to keep in touch, and continue trying to witness to him. I had always snuck it into our conversations at work, inviting him and anyone who would come to church with me.
Sometime the summer after my graduation, Jeff came into the store. I can't remember if they had decided not to move, or just hadn't yet, but he found me in the men's department cleaning up and stopped to say hi. I remember showing off my engagement ring, and telling him more about Jon and prom. He promised to keep in touch (doesn't everyone- I know I do sometime realizing it may not happen!). I still think about him sometimes and pray for him. I know now what was going on that night. Jeff is bi-polar, and was having one of the lows because he had stopped taking his medication. Bi-polar is a form of depression, characterized by exactly what I saw in him, extreme highs and loads of energy, and then falling so low you don't even want to live anymore. This was the first time I truly witnessed that face to face with someone I knew and cared for and I will never forget it. It isn't just one of those things you read about, and this was just one more step for me in realizing how much I still someday hope to become a psychologist, to help others, to help more people like Jeff.

This is my 15th of 15 posts in a series to record my youth with other woman at
. Would you like to record your youth for your children and grandchildren to read about someday? Janna is beginning a second session on Oct. 7th for those who would like to join! I know I will be there sharing many more of my memories!!

Minutes Forever Burned Into My Memory

Every generation seems to have at least one major event that has been burned into our minds exactly where we were and what we were doing when we heard the unbelievable news.

Older generations may remember what they were doing when they heard Pearl Harbor was attacked. Or where they were when they first learned JFK had been shot. For the current generation, it's how we discovered the impossible had happened on 9/11.

It was the beginning of my junior year. I was excited to be taking AM swim, which meant I was at school a full hour and half before anyone else. Wet from washing all the chlorine out of my hair, I rushed from our school pool up to the main building. It was always chilly this early in the morning and having damp hair only made it worse. Relief washed over me as I entered the warm building on the top of the hill. Though there were still minimal crowds and the start of classes was still a good 20 minutes away, I hurried to my first period, back out into the brisk morning on the other side of the main building and into one of the newer portables. I had U.S. History with one of my favorite teachers, Mr. S. He made history come to life, he made it real and entertaining. He made us feel like we were a part of it.
That morning, history would be made, in fact, little did I know it already had. Sitting at the table where I was assigned, I did my usual ritual to prepare for class. I pulled out the necessary binder and book. I even brought out some other homework to finish up before class began. The lights weren't even on yet, though Mr. S had just stepped out and another girl who sat with me, Rachel, had come in. She also got to school bright and early to secure a parking spot along the street. Only seniors and some juniors got stickers to park in the parking lots around campus. (I happened to be one, having won the parking spot lottery in which about 10 of 100+ juniors hoping for a spot were picked!) Rachel had been sitting in her car for probably about an hour or more before school started (I did this most of my sophomore year), and she had been listening to the radio when they announced that at 5:52 am (PST) the first plane had hit, and a mere 9 minutes later the second plane had crashed into the other twin tower. Rachel told me what had happened, but at the time I was only barely aware of what the twin towers were. And I couldn't believe or grasp what she was telling me. It seemed unreal and in fact I didn't really believe her when she shared it. I kept thinking it must me some hoax the radio show she was listening to had been doing. But sure enough only minute later Mr. S came back into the room and flipped the TV on and reality hit me, though I still couldn't believe what I was seeing. Time warped and though all this happened in only a few minutes, in my mind it feels like it was hours.
Impossible. How could something like that happen here? Though in history we read about times or war and conflicts, that is all it is, history. It just can't be happening here and now, in my time, in my country. My safe and secure country.
As clear as those early morning minutes still are in my mind, the rest of the day is a blur. TV screens on in every classroom, replaying the horrific images that should only be found in our nightmares. Students crying and in shock. Though we lived across the country from this terror, it hit us all as though it happened in our very own backyard. No, it happened in our front yard, a city, we thought about as glamorous and untouchable, with its tall, important buildings, and streets filled with yellow cabs. Now was buried under dust and rubble. Death was heavy in this city once teeming with life. And it was felt everywhere, from the piles of twisted metal and stone that once stood tall, to the hearts of those watching from the sunny beaches in Hawaii. A cloud had spread over the entire country now united in mourning.

That is what I remember from that tragic day 9 years ago. Do you remember where you were when the unimaginable news first broke the stillness?

Don't forget to take a moment to remember and pray today. Pray for the families who lost loved ones. Pray for the troops who are still out fighting the war that began 9 years ago. Pray for our nation as it still heals from its deep wounds.

Our Love Story

It seems throughout this process of remembering, its been all about the guys in my life. From the death of my grandfather and cousin when I was very young, to my first male teacher whom I couldn't stand, to my friend Chris, and then last week my first boyfriend, Steve. So this week I will just stick with that theme (and in the next session I will share more about some of my best girl friends). Get ready, this one is pretty long, I remember very vividly much from certain things this year!

Senior year started out rough. I had a falling out with one of my best friends. Victoria, within weeks of school starting. We didn't speak for months. During that time I became closer to another friend of mine, Josh. He was the ex-boyfriend of another close friend, Erin. They had dated a long time and while he was upset about the breakup, and one of the only classmates I knew in my physics class (lots of labs that you need partners for- and I think he understood more of it then I did- gotta love teachers who grade on the curve!!). So Josh became one of the people I leaned on and hung out with for much of the year, as I was dealing with losing the friendship with Victoria. He was always very kind to me, and though we weren't as close as I was with Chris, I was so grateful for his friendship senior year.
By the middle of the year, February, things began looking up, as Victoria and I began speaking again, and shortly after that I met the man who would become my husband.



I was at church early one Sunday morning, going over the worship songs for the service. Roy, who had been my youth leader, was now the interim pastor as well as the only person who could play piano in our church. So he played (and sang) and I sang with him. I remember my friend Timothy, who was then the youth leader, pulling into the wet parking lot. Watching from the sanctuary window, Jon, dressed in a dark blue turtle neck sweater with an orange stripe around the middle, and dark denim jeans, with a nice leather jacket on, stepped out of the passenger side back door holding a box of donuts for our Sunday School class. I just thought "Boy, he sure is cute, I wonder how old he is..." I was still quite boy crazy at this age, always looking for that potential guy God had for me (remember I knew I wanted to marry young, and I was ready for commitment- which is what scared most of the boys away of course!). Timothy was in the Navy, so I guessed this cute boy was probably someone he invited from his boat. I was 18, so I hoped he wasn't too much younger, though I figured he probably wouldn't be interested in me since I was still in high school.
Roy and I had pretty much finished up practicing, so I headed for the building our Sunday school class was in, just sort of kiddie corner to the sanctuary doors (separate buildings). At this point, Jon says he remembers seeing me get out of my car the first time he saw me, I don't remember going back to it for anything, but maybe I did. During Sunday school, Jon was actually more involved then I was in the discussions. He even shared a prayer request that his grandma had recently had a stroke. (If you know him now you wouldn't be surprised at all by this, but back then, me being super shy, even around this group of adults I had known for years, I was pretty quiet and rarely shared much even for prayer requests, so I was surprised this stranger was so involved!)
Well this Sunday just happened to also be Timothy's birthday (at least I am pretty sure it was his- might have been Debby, his wife's though). So after church, most of the youth group went out to eat at Godfather's pizza. Well I was growing seriously curious about this boy, by this point all I knew was his name, John (didn't find out it was Jon for Jonathan until a little later) and that he was on Timothy's boat, so he was in the Navy. I jumped at the chance to ask Timothy more questions, and when he got up to get a refill, I followed him to ask my questions. I don't remember what I asked, but my biggest question was how old is Jon? I knew in the Navy he would be in trouble for being with someone too young- if he was older- since I was actually still in school. Well it turned out Jon was only a year or so older then me (actually only a week short of a full year older).

(This was while we were away at the competition, in the bus finishing up getting ready for the performance. I do miss this sort of stuff the most of all my high school experiences!)

From there I don't really remember when we exchanged number or whatnot, but Jon continued coming to youth group with Timothy, and sometimes (eventually always) I gave him a ride to and from the Navy shipyard about 20-30 minutes away from my house & from church. We talked on the phone and we chatted through AOL a lot.
One time we went mini-golfing with a group of friends. I got to be one of the drivers, and the ride was more fun then the actual game, that was until my other friend who also drove, insisted Jon ride with her (later I found out she liked him- though supposedly she was trying to help me get up the courage to ask him out! Oh teenage drama- how I DON'T miss it!!). I was worried though, because she was much more popular, especially among the guys, completely the opposite of me! But I truly enjoyed being with Jon so I endeavored to find out if he liked me. Once we established our friendship, I felt like I could be myself with him, and he made me laugh a lot.
Finally after talking to Timothy and checking with him about whether or not it would be appropriate, I got up the courage to ask Jon to go with me to my senior prom. I was so nervous! Anytime I had ever asked a guy before I had either gotten I flat out no, or been laughed at, but as much as I wanted to be- I just wasn't the 'sit-and-wait-patiently-for-the-boy-to-take-initiative' type of girl. Then I found out later, Timothy had somewhat misunderstood his role in my concerns, and told Jon I would be asking!! I was embarrassed more then angry by this. I am not one to hold a grudge, and Timothy is just not the kind of person it is easy to be really mad at! Either way, Jon said yes! I think it was the next week when I took him home, as I pulled into the street to drop him off outside the gate, he very shyly and sweetly asked if he could kiss me. I will always remember that! Jon says he was afraid to just try because he could tell I was the goody-two-shoes church girl, and he didn't want to offend me. Well I didn't want to say no, but I barely knew him still, so I offered him my cheek for a quick peck. He is still to this day embarrassed a little by that whole situation! But I think its absolutely sweet.
By the end of April, I had to go away for an extended weekend because our concert choir always went to a certain competition each year (more then one actually- but this one we did all 3 yrs I was in choir, while the others varied). It was across the state, about a 4-6 hr drive through mountains part of the way. I loved going on the bus tours! Our director always managed to get us nice tour buses instead of the uncomfortable yellow ones, especially if we were going somewhere more then an hour away! On the ride there, I was on the phone with Jon for a bit. I don't remember who called who, but Jon eventually got to his point. Very hesitantly but sweetly, he asked it we could be 'boyfriend/girlfriend' (he didn't ask to 'go out' like any boys in my school would've) and he sort of stumbled over the words like he was embarrassed and not sure how to exactly phrase his words. I was absolutely giddy as I said yes! We ended our call shortly after this though because we were approaching a tunnel. But I quickly told my friend Bethany who was sitting beside me, and before I knew it all the girls on the bus were giggling over my phone call!

(One of our 6 prom photos, and my absolute favorite! My sister was so angry that I got this dress because she wanted it for the next dance she went too, but she didn't like hand-me-downs and I wasn't the same size anyway.)

Then it was time for my prom. May 10th, just a month before graduation. I was so excited to officially have a date to this major event. We made reservations to go out to eat at a nice restaurant with Josh and some of my other friends. We had a group of just over 10. Jon was a perfect gentleman! Even though I drove, he opened doors for me and even paid (another something fairly new- I was usually the one who paid for things even with just friends since I was the one with a job!).
Then we went to the dance, which was okay in terms of a dance, like I said, what made it really great was that I actually had a date! Oh and our teachers were our valets for the evening (nothing like that for any of the other dances). I believe it was my physics teacher, Mr. N, who took my car. Jon and I spent the evening hanging out and talking when there wasn't a slow song on. We got 2 packages of photos done- I wanted plenty of documents of my big night with him! And he very kindly danced with my friend Shannon at my prompting. She didn't have a date, but had come with our group, and I remembered how much I hated sitting out all the slow dances with all the guys taken, I didn't want her to feel like that all night. (And she didn't, between all the guys in our group, I don't think she sat out any dances though she was the only one dateless!) Eventually the evening ended and I took Jon home.
I know people assume teenagers don't really fall in love, but instead lust. But I knew very early I loved Jon. Despite all my boy craziness, I just knew (and so far I am not wrong!!). Later that month we said I love you and kissed for the first time.
Jon was there for my graduation, he bought me a pair of gold angel earrings because he said I was his angel (though I never wore them because they weren't my style- he still struggles with finding jewelry I will actually wear).
About a month and half after graduation, on our 3 month 'anniversary', Jon ended up having to work, despite date plans with me. So the next night I planned a big night for us. We started with miniature golfing, then we went to a movie- only there wasn't anything romantic playing, so we saw Tomb Raider. Afterwards we drove down to the waterfront. It was dark and deserted but nice and quiet- small town so we weren't worried or anything. I had a picnic packed of some sandwiches, sparkling cider and strawberries with whipped cream. We had previously talked about marriage, he even asked sort of playfully once before, but we decided that wasn't the 'real' way he wanted to ask. But being the girl I was, I was impatient. I knew what I wanted!! So I stood up and asked him to get on his knees, which he did. And then I told him to just do it, and he did, he asked me to marry him, though he was upset to be prompted and not ready with a ring to give me then. Of course, after all of that, I said YES! And on the way home he called his mom to tell her. Back at home (by this point he was regularly sleeping on our couch, with my mother's not to thrilled approval- and no we never snuck him into my room, I was a good girl after all, since it was getting expensive to drive back and forth so much each day- I drove him to work each morning, I worked in the same direction, and then picked him up afterwards- note to my own children- this mama won't ever allow that, so don't bother ever asking!!), I had set up on the downstair patio, a radio with some romantic CDs, and I had wrapped purple lights up around the posts, and we danced under the stars. My mom cried tears of joy (and sadness that her oldest would be out of the nest soon) when I told her the good news the next day.
Well the months flew by, and Jon and I were married just before Christmas of that same year! Actually I found out on my wedding day that it was my grandparents (Dad's side) 45th wedding anniversary!! Though it wasn't planned that way, and I wasn't particularly close to that side of the family, I like how the timing was just perfect like that. And they were able to drive to be at the wedding from 2 states away (though they arrived that day and left the next- so I didn't get to visit with them really). We had an evening wedding, themed for my favorite holiday, we even had a Christmas tree up on our 'dance floor', and up until about 2 years ago, used the same tree and some of the same decorations every year. We will be celebrating 7 wonderful years of marriage this December.

This post is the 14th in a series of 15 I am doing to record my youth with other women at

It is also linked to Favorite Memories Friday at Mom's Toolbox.

Wordless Wednesday: Beach Picnic

Jon ended up having an extra day off yesterday, so we went on a last minute picnic at the beach since it was low tide. The kids weren't as interested in the tide pools as I was, but it was still a nice afternoon with the family!

Our Little Family


My Sweet Little Big Boy


My Beach Beauty

Zachary showing off his new skills.

Natalie loves playing in the sand, its all she really wanted to do.

Jon relaxing under a palm tree with Zachary, if there had been a breeze, this would've been absolute perfection.

Natalie and I found a crab, this was the biggest. We also found a whole bunch of tiny ones and some hermit crabs as well. This was why I wanted to go at low tide, I remember doing this with my mom and sisters when I was younger and we would go to my great Uncle Mike's place by the water which had a rocky shore. We would just flip over the rocks and watch the teeny crabs scatter.

NJROTC and My First Boyfriend

Almost there! So close I can taste it! The end is in sight!! The end of high school that is, and yet high school is really only the beginning!


(This is me and the two teachers who ran NJROTC, my great uncle is the one in maroon.)

In my junior year, I joined NJROTC. For those who don't know that stands for Navy Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps. I only did it for 2 of the 3 trimesters actually, I can't remember if I dropped a math class or chemistry from the 1st trimester to do this, but either way I couldn't stand either of those 2 classes. In chem, I had the kind of teacher who assigned homework, put up the answers for you to correct yourself, then 'went over' what you didn't understand. I got a C, my first C, and I was done. I never understood it when my teacher explained it anyway, because he would do it in a manner that made you feel stupid for even asking. You know, like he knew how to do it, it was so simple, how can you not get it?! My math teacher was pretty much the same way, though I was lingering on a B- in that class, and I already had all the math credits I needed.
So I decided since one of my best friends, Victoria did it, I should too. I already knew a lot of the people in that crowd, and thought I would fit in well. And it just happened my great Uncle Ed was the Captain of my school's program. He was so excited and proud when I joined, and of course everyone knew me from before, unfortunately it was mostly as 'the Captain's niece'. I got great grades in this class, it was mostly just learning about different subjects within the Navy. A little history, a little english- actually a whole new form of english because I was required to use terms such as "I need to use the head." instead of the normal word, head means bathroom for all the people who don't speak sailor-ese. We also did running- oh great more PE! And we had uniform inspections once a week. We had to go a whole day wearing the most ugly, unflattering uniform and uncomfortable shoes for all our classes, then were inspected by another student who was ranked above us, I believe it was our chief who did it (they rank just like in the Navy- we even had a student commanding officer-CO- and second in command (XO) and so on down the chain). And the inspection was part of our grade as well. During the inspections we could get hit for hairs out of place, not keeping our bearing- which means standing perfectly still and looking straight ahead with a straight face while your entire group is inspected (really a struggle for me)- for having ribbons or collar devices not perfectly lined up- some many inches from the tip of the collar, etc- or on not knowing the answer to questions your inspecting officer asked- for example: who is the Secretary of the Navy? (insert current SecNav here). It was like torture to me!!

This is also the year I had my first boyfriend. I say first, but he is the only other guy I 'dated' other then my husband really. He was also my first kiss. I was at one of the ROTC dances, which happened fairly often and weren't by any means formal. I was upset about something, crying, but I don't remember what. I was sitting on the bleachers and Steve came up to ask what was wrong. I was shocked, someone I didn't know, and a boy, actually cared?! Well he ended up asking me to dance, and later asking me 'out', which just meant we were an item, not that we actually went anywhere particularly. Steve was also in ROTC and he was actually a year younger then me in school. But he was so sweet to me, and no one had ever treated me like that before. For Valentines day he brought me a rose and a small amethyst heart necklace. And on my days off we would hang out after school up at the building the ROTC shared with a recruiting center. It was an old armory with a lot of extra space just up the road off campus (and I would've hated ROTC more if I hadn't had a car to make the drive in- otherwise you were expected to walk and you got a little extra time between classes to make the trek). If we weren't there, we would just drive around or hang out at my house.

(Steve and I at the ball. Sorry, I don't have any pictures of me in my uniform for a good reason, but it would've looked just like Steve's here minus the gloves.)

One day as I drove Steve home, before he got out, we kissed. It was his first and my first so neither of us had any clue what we were doing! It was wet and sorta gross (no offense Steve!), and it felt weird, but I was still curious and eventually we kissed again...a lot. By about a month and half of the couple thing, I was getting irritated. Steve had problems with his step-father, and always said he couldn't call, or couldn't talk long because of him, but I wanted to talk to my boyfriend more! We wrote notes during the day, but it just wasn't the same to me. And then it ended...almost. We 'broke-up' and about a week later, at an after school ROTC thing, as I was getting in my car, Steve jumped the fence after getting a chocolate rose handed to him by his mom in her car which was kiddie corner from mine, and apologized and asked if I would be his girlfriend again. I said yes, and we began the whole high school dating ritual again. We passed notes, we hung out, we kissed, and we talked more at first. We even went to the one formal dance ROTC did each year, the Navy JROTC Ball. It was a lot of fun, and this was my second year going (remember I hung out with this crowd, so I went the year before with some friends). This dance was way better then the normal high school dances. We had a sit down meal, we were served, not buffet style (which is what the actual Navy Balls I have gone to since with my husband, lean towards), and best of all, it wasn't just in the school gym, but in a nice lodge on base.
Well Steve and I just weren't meant to be. After another month and half or so, we broke up again, this time for good, and not really on good terms. I had gone to the movies with his brother, mom, and him. On the way back to their house (his mom drove us all), we were all making fun of Steve, playfully. But he got very sensitive about it and when we got back to his house, him and I stayed in the car to talk...or argue. I think our biggest issues should've been clear to me earlier on. Steve kept telling me he couldn't trust me when I wanted to talk about things that bugged or upset him. It was always 'too personal', and for me, I thought- if there is no trust, how can we be in a relationship together? And though that in itself was reason for us not to date, he had shared with me he didn't want to have kids until he was at least 30 if even then, he honestly sounded like he didn't want any. He didn't even think he wanted to ever get married! And I knew I wanted to marry young (which I did) and have children (which I did). I would never have changed my mind about those two things for my life, yet I thought I could convince him or change his mind. So it couldn't have lasted much longer then it did anyway!

This is my 13th post in a series of 15 in which I am recording my youth with other ladies at
. Only 2 more to go! And if this sounds like a fun idea to you, be sure to sign up with Janna for the 2nd session which begins in October!

Favorite Memories Friday: A Family Once More

I need to thank Janna from Mommy's Piggy Tales for introducing me to this fun blog carnival over at Mom's Toolbox!

One of my very favorite memories is from August 2007. Just a week before Natalie's first birthday in January of the same year, my husband Jon left for Cuba. With only a week and half notice, Jon had been called to go for an IA (Individual Augmentation) to serve at the camp for detainees in Cuba. He would be gone for 6 months after first spending a few weeks in training in a different state. This would be our first real deployment since we had met (though he had been away for a matter of weeks at a time before). I was so scared at the thought of being alone to care for my 1 year old daughter for that length of time so I packed up and left our East coast home on Natalie's birthday. A few days later I was home on the West coast where I spent the entire time and then some, that Jon was away.
It wasn't exactly fun, though I learned a lot during that time and I enjoyed being home with my closest friends and family. I know the months my mom got to spend with her first grandchild were priceless to her. But all the while, I rarely got to talk to Jon. I had no phone number to be able to call him. I relied solely on his timing, though if there had been an emergency I knew to call the Red Cross (thankfully there were no such occasions), but it was still quite difficult, and in his absence my heart did indeed grow fonder!
In August, after his return to his command on the East coast and getting some much needed leave approved, Jon flew to come get my daughter and me.
I had butterflies in my stomach as I searched the crowds of people around the luggage carousel. My mom had Natalie and was with me. And then I saw him, a much more muscular and tanned version of my husband. His brown t-shirt hugged his chest and arms much more snugly then I had been used to. And his smile was bigger and wider then I could ever remember. It was like everything around me just disappeared, and I forgot my mom and Natalie were even there as I ran into his open arms! I don't think he has ever held me as tightly as that wonderful embrace. We were reunited at last and the world was right again! As long as I live, I will never forget our very first reunion from a deployment and I know there will be many more.
I look forward to another reunion next April as Jon goes on another deployment, though I wish I could skip the actual separation. I know though that it will be fine though with our wonderful friends here on Guam to help me. I will rest in the knowledge God would never give me more then I could handle, but I will indeed grow stronger through it.

Surviving the First Year of High School

High school at last! But it wasn't all it was cracked up to be I soon discovered.

My electives this year were Women's Ensemble and French 1. Both were year long electives, so all my other classes were the usual required ones, engligh- though I took college prep english for each year in high school, a math class, I went as high as algebra 2 before quitting all math classes in high school- I despised math, biology, and of course physical education- this was the last year I would be required to take any classes involving sweat and locker rooms, I took 1 trimester each of fitness, swim, and health class (which I opted out of weights to take!). I did actually end up taking AM swim for part of my junior year because I actually enjoyed that class, but it was not required, it was a class that was held before the school day officially began.

I liked most of my teachers and I believe most of them liked me. But then there was my French 1 teacher, Mr. J. Before I had been in his class a week, I began hearing rumors that this was his first year back after spending time away for throwing books at students. And honestly, it was hard not to believe by the end of the year. He was the only French 1 teacher, so I couldn't transfer out of his class unless I wanted to take a different language, which I didn't because I thought French was such a romantic language. If I ever visited a foreign country during that time in my life, it would have been France, to go see the Eiffel Tower and the Louve. I loved everything I thought to be French!
Of course, its hard to tell for sure if it was Mr. J, himself, or the students who had all heard the rumors, but he was an odd teacher. I often felt bad for him as most of the students lacked even an ounce of respect for him or his teaching. I had always been a goody-two-shoes, so I was never one to show disrespect to anyone, let alone my teacher. Though the other students regularly tried to push his buttons, and on occasion he did snap. He would throw a book or an empty desk even, at the wall and yell at us all. Then sometimes we would have substitute teachers for a few days, though I doubt any of his students ever let his outbursts slip, they genuinely seemed to get a kick out of being cruel to this poor teacher who had a short temper.
Mr. J only ever gave the simplest work to top it off. I retained very little from his class, and was completely unprepared for French 2 with a teacher who was quite the opposite of Mr. J, and expected much more from her students then we had learned previously. I remember on one particular occasion when Mr. J had us gather old assignments that had already been graded, to turn in this big packet. I hadn't been able to find most of mine in my mess of a room, so when he asked for them I told him I had forgotten it at home. Much to my astonishment he said, "I am sure you got an A," and told me not to worry about it!! Of course now I think that was horrible for a teacher to play favorites like that, but then I was just happy to not have to admit I didn't actually have half the papers (why turn back in ALREADY graded assignments anyway? He wasn't the only teacher who did this and I still don't understand why).

This was also the year I made a lifelong friend. One of the first guys I could really call a best friend. His name is Chris. We actually met through one of my friends who was his girlfriend of a couple of years at this point in school. He was a senior, and that's why I only met him this year. I remember the first time I met him, I thought he was weird and I was right! It was spirit week at school, and each day we had a theme and everyone came dressed up to match it. This particular day was 'mondo bizzaro' day, everyone came dressed in just the craziest stuff, and Chris was no exception. While I think I either turned my clothes inside out or had them on backwards or something like that (Chris probably remembers better then I do!), he was wearing his girlfriend's homecoming dress (though he did have a shirt on underneath)!
Not to far into that year, his girlfriend broke up with him. And though I was originally friends with her, Chris and I had clicked. So as one friendship (we weren't that close to begin with) dissolved, another one blossomed. Chris and I both had the same lunch all year, at least one day (we had 'A' days and 'B' days, 3, 2-hour classes each day). We often spent them just walking around the hallways at school talking about everything and anything. Chris was upset and still missed his girlfriend. I was pining for a boy who didn't like me romantically, and had been for going on 3 years at this point. So we encouraged each other in our circumstance, we were there for each other. Chris always referred to me as his 'little sophomore friend', even after that year ended and I became a junior and Chris graduated.
Over the years we have still been there for each other. He even was kind enough to help me make a move across the country when Jon got sent to Cuba on 10 days notice! Chris flew to the East coast and helped me pack stuff into a trailer and then drove back to the west coast with me, Natalie and our dog Diamond. There aren't many friends who would use their time off and money to reach out and help someone like that, but that is just Chris. He is a loyal and faithful friend through and through. Anytime I go home for a visit, I still make time to get together with Chris too, though we don't talk as often as we once did. While I have many friends back home, there aren't many I truly miss, and he is definitely among my top 3. Chris made my sophomore year infinitely more bearable!!

This is post 12 of 15 in a series I am doing to record my youth with other women at
.

My Cinderella Moment...Sort Of...

Looking through my yearbook from freshman year, I think it was the first time I had a large chunk of comments that said more then "Have a fun summer!". This was the year, as the big students on campus, we had our own talent show. I never understood it in the former years, but only freshman had a talent show. Of course as a 7th or 8th grader I thought how unfair that was, but when it came my turn to participate, I was all for it!!


(This is one of the 2 photoes taken for the yearbook this year, I didn't like this one so I had retakes done but for some reason, I have more of this photo then the other one.)

I suppose it was intentional, wrapping up everything from the year all at once, but our formal freshman dance fell on the same day at the talent show. In fact the talent show was at the end of the school day and our dance followed after the school was cleared out.
I was so excited when my dad took me to buy my very first formal dress! I couldn't believe how expensive they were though. Who would pay $100+ for a dress you may only wear once?! Well, we did! I felt like a bride in my long white gown that sparkled with bits of silver woven in some of the floral pattern on the fabric. I felt almost naughty having a gown that only had spaghetti straps and along the side had a gradual slit from the waist to my arms, held together by strands of the fabric in a criss-cross pattern. I even had shoes to match! I was Cinderella already to go to the ball!! But first I had to face a whole day of school in my formal wear.
Of course I wasn't the only one dressed up, most of the upper class men were as well. I even remember in my history class a boy named Jared, who I thought was one of the cutest boys in my grade, told me I looked beautiful! For a girl who felt invisible for much of her time in school, I about melted to hear those words from this cute and popular boy!!
Before school let out, all the freshman headed to the gym for our very own talent show. I was so excited and so nervous! But everything went perfectly! My friend and youth leader, Roy, showed up to play the song on the piano as I sang, "Hero" in front of all my friends and classmates. And I also shared a poem I had written in honor of our years in junior high.
Afterwards I said goodbye to Roy, as I found my way into the line of freshman lining up outside the school to wait while last minute touches were done inside to prepare for the freshman dance. Everyone was in a particularly kind mood, as school was about to be out for the summer and our junior high days were almost behind us. Girls who had always stuck their noses up to me, were all the sudden so sweet and offered me a great job on my song and poem.


(This was actually my sophomore year homecoming dance which I went to with a group of friends from my youth group, but it is the same dress I wore from my freshman formal- I am the one in white!)

Once inside for the dance, I don't remember much about what happened but my 'date' was a boy I knew named Jesse. I wasn't really interested in him, but I wanted to have a date, so I had approached him to ask, very last minute actually. He didn't wear a tux like some other boys had, instead he was just in khakis, a white t-shirt, and a fleece vest with sneakers. We danced a few times but otherwise I hung out with my friends in the lunch room area talking. I wasn't really into any of the fast dances that even at that young age seemed dirty to me some of the moves the other kids were doing. I did however love slow dancing. It seemed so romantic to me. I was Cinderella dancing with Prince Charming...well a boy at least. Though I think those thoughts came from the idea of a boy actually asking me, showing some interest in me more then the actual dance itself. Mostly the school dances were just about socializing with my friends and having your picture taken when you were dressed up in layers of tulle and satin and shiny sequins and glitter.
I remember always looking forward to all the school dances throughout the years with so much anticipation, only to feel hurt and upset during the dance as I sat alone while all my friends danced with their dates. Even the freshman formal ended up in tears, as the next day Jesse began telling everyone I forced him to take me. And of course in junior high, no one dared to think, how on earth I could've 'forced' him to take me?!! He was believed with unquestioning faith and I became the subject of a short-lived rumor that quickly fizzled out though not before leaving me feeling hurt and betrayed by him.
I guess that is just part of the drama we refer to as junior high!! But I will always remember my shining moment as I sang Mariah Carey's "Hero" in front of almost 300 of my peers!

This is my 11th post in a series of 15 that I am doing to record my youth with other women at
. We are almost done with the first session, but starting in October there will be another one! Check out the website and email Janna to participate! It is a lot of fun, and someday now my children can look back and know what shaped the woman I am and get to know me even better! What a treasure to leave your children and grandchildren!