My Dad.

I am blessed with two parents that have shown me what hard work is.

My dad is a supervisor over sheet metal for USAir.
There was time when my dad worked for a smaller airplane company.
There was a time when my dad went back to school.
There was a time when my dad worked in Target. (He gave us free slices of cheese when we went to see him.)
There was a time when my dad worked in Charleston, South Carolina for two years and drove home every weekend to see us.

I remember growing up and watching him play city league softball, the turkey bowl, and pick-up basketball games. He did tough man competitions and boxed men in a ring.

He taught me how to eat my entire plate of food..and more.
He taught me to love The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, and Jackson Browne.
He taught me to love boiled peanuts out of the can.
He taught me that when your sick colored gatorade is a bad idea.
He taught me that its easier to dance in front of people if you're in the middle of the crowd.

He helped me learn to drive.
He helped me learn how to ride a bike.
He helped me learn how to be comfortable with silence.
He helped me learn to persevere when times got tough.

Back in October my dad was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease.  It's called Transverse Myelitis and his body was attacking his lower spine making him lose control of his legs (among other things). It all happened within 72 hours and before we knew it he was hospitalized and nobody really knew what to do. It really shook my faith in a lot of things.

I've always known my dad to be mentally and physically strong. I've never known him to complain. He chops the wood, carries all the groceries, and he eats sardines. The doctors said with this disease happening so fast they didn't expect him to recover much. He was eventually sent to a rehab center for spinal injuries where he was expected to stay for a month. He was out in 11 days.

People, my dad is a champion. It's been a long recovery for him but he has never stopped improving. He taught his body how to walk again, and he is teaching it how to run again. He looks at everything as a blessing. In one conversation I had with him he told me that he is grateful to learn how to run again because he never learned how to do it properly when he was younger and now he has the chance.

I enjoy mocking his bad eyesight, his bad hearing, and the swagger that he walks with. But, truth me told, I don't think everyone could have recovered like he has. Many people would have given up and said its too much. Not everyone can push themselves, and not everyone can retrain their body to do simple things.

My dad is one of my heroes. He has shown me that there is no obstacle too big for us to accomplish. He has shown he what its like to allow trials to help your testimony grow. He has taught me how to never give up.


I will always remember the things my dad has done for me and I hope that one day my children can have a father that sets an example like he has for us.

I love you dad.
Thanks for everything you've done for me.
and always Maim and Kill.

Ode To My Hairbrush

I have this hairbrush.
Everyone makes fun of me for it.
He's a tough guy.
He is missing many of his protective plastic balls which means that metal sticks impale my scalp on the daily.
But how do you know a brush is really working if you can't hear it ripping through your hair?
Also, i'm bad at getting rid of old things.
Exactly.

Adriana has been telling me for years that I need to suck it up and buy a new hairbrush.
But how could I get rid of something that has helped me through:
-Proms
-Boys
-Late night concerts
-Night swims/sprinkler runs
-Different houses
-Different states
-Hair crisis.

This brush has been covered with
-Blonde hair
-Red hair
-Brown hair
-Really really dark brown hair
-Red/Violet hair
-And every step back to blonde.

Well, my friends, today was the day.
I walked into Forever 21 and saw they were selling brushes for $3.25.
And finally, Adriana convinced me to get a new one.
So, tearfully, I am out with the old and in with the new.

I am not the proud owner of a hairbrush that won't tear my scalp to pieces and lets everyone know how I feel about them.

Hooray.

I'm alive!
I'm done with my third year of college.
I can breathe again.

I'm happy these days.
And its a different kind of happy than just a forceful chemical balance happy.
I really am just happy.

I have many different jobs because i'm crazy and have zero self control and I worry all the time.
I'm a nanny.
I clean houses.
I'm a coach.
I'm a caterer.

This has been my life.

Jesse was Shrek! I got to fly home and see him perform..four times. 

Also, all the kids were in North Carolina for a solid 8 hours together before we all split back up. 

I went to conference. 

My LITERAL best friend forever got married. 

I went to Texas to see Lyndsi, Ken, and baby shortcake. 

I'm also dating this really cute guy who is so patient with me and likes to hold my hand.

I'm learning how to put myself first. 

I'm learning what I need to do to make myself happy.

I'm learning time management. 

I'm learning.

Hooray for summer. Hooray for this girl still being my other half. Hooray for sunshine. Hooray for learning. 

Hooray.

7 Reasons Why..

Last night I went to a ballet at BYU, Swan Lake to exact.
I felt very cultured, important, and ritzy.
Until I actually started to watch the Ballet and then I realized all the reasons I didn't fit in there.

1. I like to put my feet on the seat in front of me.
2. I make more sound breathing than the ballerinas do leaping across the stage.
3. Everyone claps so politely. We're talkin pat-your-palm-with-only-your-fingers-polite.
4. I am the least graceful person ever.
5. I'm a sloucher.
6. I like to take my shoes off when I get places.
7. What's a whisper?

Nevertheless, I stepped on some toes, slouched, clapped loudly, and took my shoes off.

Words Are All Around Me

I have this project for one of my Literature classes..
We have to create a work in the language of beauty.
What?
Exactly, I have no idea either.
But she said it can replace one of our papers, which is great because I am missing one.
During class I kept getting this feeling I needed to write a poem.
I don't do poetry. 
But I began writing down words instead of listening.

Its no hope at the end of the tunnel.
Its grey.
The trees are dead.
The grass is dead.
Dead.
Depression.

I've found this subject all around me lately, only this season i'm not the one struggling.
Its in my best friend.
Its in my family.
Its in the boy down the street.
Its in my coworker.

These days i'm working retail.
I have a coworker who just got off a mission in LA.
We opened the other morning at 7:30am - no one shops that early.
We had a lot of time to talk.
She told me all about how depression was something she struggled with on her mission and it caused her to come home early. She also loves a boy. When she came home early this boys mom told him, "You can be friends with her, but I dont want you to love her. She has a lot of problems." She told me she understood because she was kinda broken and no one wants their kid to be with someone who is broken. But depression was part of who she was and it hurt that someone was going to hold her accountable for something she couldn't change.
She really loves this boy and she just wants him to love him back.

I couldn't shake the feeling I had after my conversation with her.
So I wrote this missionary and told him all about it.
Literally pages about our conversation and depression and how its real and how I know people don't understand because I didn't understand. I think the letter was more for me than for him.

*****

I have this roommate.
I think she is really cool and I really want to be her friend.
Shes a freshman, she has a blog too.
Every new year we have to fill out a survey about ourselves, we saw that she liked to blog.
We googled her.
Which I guess makes us pretty creepy..

*****
I wonder if my younger brother knows how great I really think he is.
and I really want him to think i'm cool.
I texted him the other day at 11:30
"You should cover Christina Aguileras new song 'Say Something'"
"Uh no, that by 'A Great Big World"
"You should cover A Great Big Worlds 'Say Something"
"Okay!"
He had it up that night.
I just love him.

*****

I'm grateful for people who just accept things and don't ask questions.

"I need to pay off my bill you guys, can I just do that over the phone?"
"Sure, your balance is 458.97. How much will you be paying today?"
What a nice way to put it. Really they meant, "we fixed your car over six months ago, give us our money".
"I can pay you 400 right now and 58 in two weeks"
"Great."

"Mr. G, I won't be able to finish my observation hours by Wednesday because i'm currently snowed into my apartment complex and can't get my car out."
"...Are you from here? Driving in the snow can be scary but its everyone else you have to worry about. You can turn it in on Friday, be safe driving."

*****
It snowed 8-10 inches over night.
I'm giving myself a snow day.

You're Too Sugary

It still amazes me how much the girls I nanny retain from our past conversations, this is part of one I had with the oldest one, Skylar, a few weeks ago.
The three girls and I are all laying in Skys bed, Cambree and Kylie are playing on the computer and Skylar is sitting on me at the end of the bed.


Sky, you know the grocery store Maceys?
Yeah
I have an interview there tomorrow, do you know what an interview is?
Nope.
They're gonna sit down and talk with me to see if they want me to work there.
YOU'RE GONNA WORK AT MACEYS THE GROCERY STORE?!
Maybe, they need to talk to me first.
Well, they may not think you're a good fit..
Whys that?
Because all you've done is take care of old people (cleaning houses) and answer phones (Vivint).
Well I watch you guys, and I worked at Baskin Robbins.
Right, but since you worked with ice cream you're too sugary. They might not want you to work there.
Too sugary? They have ice cream at Maceys, so I could still work with ice cream.
Yeah, but you're too sugary. If they don't want you to work there its cause you're too sugary. 

I'm still not entirely sure what she meant by that.

Skylar also recently bought a fish with her own money.
It is a beautiful purple and pink Beta fish with a small fish bowl covered in colorful rocks and a purple and pink princess castle.
The fishes name is Thomas.
(Skylar had a friend at school in kindergarden who is still kinda her friend, but not really, named Thomas. For Halloween he dressed up as a train.)
I asked her why she bought Thomas and she told me it was because he was going to be her best friend, and she really wanted someone to sleep with her.
...Thomas sits next to the sink in the Kitchen swimming in little circles in his bowl.
She always reminds me that she needs to feed him after dinner.
(Thomas recently passed away, apparently Sky really wanted to hold him...)

I was able to go to dinner with their dinner the other night and I mentioned how Skylar was going to be a heartbreaker when she got older - she looked at me with worried eyes and said, "What?! I'm not a heartbreaker!"

She will be.

I just think Skylar is so cool and I can't wait to watch her grow up.

Winter Semester, Freshman Year.

I have so many things I want to talk about.
I've been keeping this mental note in my head about everything that matters to me and why and what I think they mean.
Whenever I decide to write my thoughts down I choose to sleep instead, except these days I have a really hard time sleeping. And now its 2:30am, my stomach is full of greasy Denny's and I am defiantly not going to sleep anytime soon, so here I am.

I want to write about so many things!
About whales, or how I tore up all of our Ensigns so I could make a collage of a Volcano (it didn't end up working), or more stories about the girls I nanny because, lets be real, i'm obsessed with them.

But thats not what I want to say.
Lyndsi told me about this blog today, Hyperbole and a Half.
She has these two posts about Depression. One and Two

Clinical Depression is something that runs in the Women of my family.
In that group I am included, but it took me a really long time to face that.

It all really came forth the winter semester of my freshman year.
That part of my life has now become a joke, literally. I refer to it all the time by saying things like, "listen, that was a really dark/rough/awful time in my life." But I say it with a laugh because I don't know how else to feel about it. I look back at it and kind of scoff because I don't know how I didn't realize I was depressed, or why I wouldn't accept it.

I have few very distinct memories from that time.
I remember sitting in my bathroom and texting Dorian and telling him that I don't feel anything anymore, and all I could relate it to is being in a very deep hole, surrounded by darkness and there was no way for me to get out.
I remember sitting at my kitchen table with CJ and crying because I didn't want to be medicated for how I was feeling, I wanted to figure it out myself. But I never did anything to try and fix it, I just wallowed in it.

My mom would ask me a lot if I was depressed, I would always say no.
Corey would tell me he thought I was depressed and I remember getting SO angry at him because I didn't want people to know, I didn't want to feel weak, but I didn't want to fix it.

That was the weird thing for me about how I was feeling.
I knew I was this way but I didn't want to do anything about it, I had zero motivation.

I skipped school a lot, I rarely got out of bed, showering became even less of a priority, I didn't really sleep, I didn't eat and I watched a lot of Law and Order.  I stopped praying, reading my scriptures never crossed my mind, and I physically went to church but my head and soul weren't there, I went just so the people around me wouldn't worry.

I think I have always been a happy person, I like to laugh, I like to have friends and to know the people around me. I like the sunshine, I LOVE EATING, I hate being by myself.  None of these things mattered to me anymore. I rarely laughed, I HATED being around people, I tried to stay away from the sunshine, and I choose to be by myself all the time.

My Junior year of High School I had Mono.
My mom once told me that Clinical Depression kinda works like my Mono.
The Mono virus will always be in my body and it can attack me again as soon as my immune system gets bad enough.
The chemicals in my brain have always been unbalanced but they weren't able to take a tole on me until something big happened that made them go crazy and 'attack' or 'take over' my body.

I remember breaking up with Dorian and thinking my life was over.
I knew I would love someone else again but that thought seemed so far off in the distance, and I didn't want to love anyone else.
I remember calling him and telling him I needed to talk to him and I couldn't get through three words before I was bawling my eyes out and he couldn't even understand me. I remember hanging up and feeling like my world was crashing down on me. I wouldn't say that was the exact moment I became depressed, but I know that that is what triggered it. When the depression came I didn't realize it and I didn't take it seriously. I thought I was just upset because I was going through a break up and thats what happened. By the time I realized thats what was going on it was totally out of my control.

I told Dorian I couldn't be with him, I told CJ that we couldn't really be around each other. And I stopped feeling.

But lots of things continued to happen that Semester too.
Lyndsi came home from her mission,
Bradley got baptized,
I met Max,
I got a job.

During these few moments in my life I started to feel little bits of emotion.
I was so happy Lyndsi was home, I was so happy to see my family at Bradleys baptism. But both of those plane rides back to Utah were probably some of the worst rides I have ever had.  I didn't want to go back to Utah because I wasn't happy in Utah, all I wanted to was to be by myself but I forced to sit on this plane with many other people. These instances showed me that I really had the ability to feel emotions, but they could also come crashing down just as quick.

I was always happy when I first started hanging out with Max, it was very easy for me to be around him. We were also getting to know each other so I knew I couldn't be some sad, depressed girl. So I told myself I was going to be happy, I put a face on, and eventually I was truly happy. But the second I would leave maxs apartment and get into my car it would hit me. I remember many different times when I would drive down University in the dark and Provo below would be lit up and I could see the outline of the Mountains against the sky. That hill was always so hard for me to drive down, it made me feel so alone.

I worked at Baskin Robbins and people were forced to rely on me. I was okay when I was distracted but the second I left work it was like this feeling was waiting for me right outside the doors. I would clock out, and along with that I would put this weight back on my shoulders until my next shift.

It wasn't until September that I finally decided to do something about it. Lyndsi wrote this post about Depression and it finally made me realize that this was not something that I could keep ignoring.
I went and saw a Doctor in Utah and he wouldn't give me anything, instead he wanted me to talk to someone and read a book about Depression.  I cried, I was angry, I threw away the number of the 'professional' he wanted me to talk to and I can't even remember the title of the book. I think this method could work for some people, but I knew sitting down and talking to someone about being depressed wasn't going to make me any less depressed.  So I went home to North Carolina and saw my family Doctor and he prescribed me some medicine. The change wasn't automatic for me, I didn't wake up the next day feeling instantly better. But I did recognize little things that felt better.  I remember leaving Maxs, driving down that hill on University and not feeling sad or alone, I remember feeling motivated and wanting to do things, I remember I started feeling happy more than sad.  I was starting to feel alive again, I was starting to feel like myself.

I still have bad days, sometimes I can feel my depression creeping up on me, but the good days far outweigh them.

I do things now that I know will make me happier.
I go outside, a lot.
I don't listen to really sad music.
I pray a lot to my Heavenly Father to help me be happy.
I love the girls that I nanny and I love that I can't be upset when i'm around them.

I love how I feel now.
I love feeling alive again.
Never again do I want to feel nothing.

Depression is real.
Depression is hard.
But depression doesn't mean its the end.

Refine.

In a few days i'll move out of Glenhood for forever, can I get a hallelujah?

This time last year I was sending a good friend I had made back home to California for the summer.

I was saying goodbye to my very first roommates.

I had my first real customer service job.

I had just finished my first year of college.

All I wanted to do was fly home to a boy that I was in love with.

I couldn't imagine staying in Utah for an entire summer.

This year that same friend will leave for California.

I am still saying goodbye to my roommates.

I'm picking up my third job for the summer.

I have finished my second year of college.

There is no boy that I am in love with. 

I can't imagine leaving Utah for an entire summer.

Its crazy how things can change in just one year. 

This will be my first summer in Utah where my heart is actually with me.

I have never been so ready.

Since i've moved away from home things that I knew about myself have become much more obvious to me. 

I am ALWAYS willing to give people 3, 4, 5, chances. 

I have a really hard time believe that people make bad choices on purpose, especially when it effects me in the end. 

This leads me to letting them back in my life, continuously.

Every relationship teaches you something, and although I may have stayed in my relationships longer than I should have, I don't regret any of them.

My sophomore year of high school I really really liked this boy and when things didn't work out between us I literally didn't think I would ever be okay again.

The same thing happened my junior year, and my senior year, and again my freshman year of college.

The thing is, I will be okay. Always. 

I never understood girls who couldn't walk away from their boyfriends who were complete jerks, of boyfriends who had cheated on them.

I couldn't understand until I was one of those girls last year, and again recently. 

When you put your entire self into a relationship its hard to pull it all back out and start over.

But its not impossible.

Refine: Verb

1. Improve (something) by making small changes, in particular make (an idea,theory, or method) more subtle and accurate.

2. To make (a substance) pure by taking out dirt, waste substances. 

May 20, 2012

April 8, 2013

Boyfriend Door

People I date more than actual boys:
Lyndsi & Ken
Adriana
The 3 girls I nanny
My bed

I'm not writing this because i'm some girl who is sad she doesn't go on dates.
I'm writing this because I think boys are dumb.
Refer here to see my other feelings about the subject.

Anyways, as an apartment we made a door for Valentines day asking for boyfriends.
It was a brilliant joke that was actually pretty successful.

We had boys stopping by our apartment to introduce themselves, numbers were being written on our door, and interviews began.  Eventually we printed out applications and stuck them on or door to be taken. They were full of important questions that could make or break our relationship.
Things like:

• How tall are you?
• Will you scrape the ice off our car?
• Can we have a sweatshirt?
• Would you rather be the big spoon or the little spoon? 

And the most important one...

• Can we write about you on our blog?

One particular application is the reason for this post.
This person had great answers and agreed that I could write about him on my blog.
BAM.

It was our first face to face interview. When we were done he interviewed us. He had us hug him, hold his hand, and made us role play to see how we would greet him when we see him in public. He asked questions like, "how would you feel if the person you're dating is busy with homework or extra activities and can't see you all the time?" Its understandable that people have lives, right? We all agreed that you don't have to be together all the time, but its still good to make the other person feel important.

Anyways, this was the boy I got set up with.
I was pretty psyched, we seemed to get along pretty well.
We had a date for a Friday but throughout the week he asked me if I could hangout.
I couldn't, I was geuinely busy.
Things came up on his side and our date for Friday was cancelled.
I texted him and asked if we could reschedule.
No answer.
I texted him a few days later and made a joke about how I was going to show up to his Q&A and ask him publicly why he wouldn't text me back, but I had class.
No answer.
I noticed his name was no longer in my phone, just his number.
He defriended me on facebook.

OKAY! Thats a reasonable response, right?
No. Way to be a girl.

Heres a note to all the boys i've ever stopped answering with no explanation, i'm sorry.
Heres a note to all the boys who stop answering girls with no explanation, you're stupid.

I didn't know this boy well enough to know whether or not I could like him.
But I was excited to hang out with him and get to know him better.
Turns out he sucks.

So heres my angsty I-Hate-Boys post.
And I don't feel bad about it at all because he said I could write about him on my blog.

Jokes on you.
Sucka.

Im Grateful...But Not About The Weather

I've always had a problem with dressing for the weather.

I have distinct memories of being at the Winslow Bay bustop in the rain/winter with no jacket, or not a jacket that could actually keep me warm. Or not thinking to cover my foot with a sock when I had a cast on so my toes wouldn't freeze. This wasn't my parents fault. It honestly just didn't cross my mind to put a real coat on. Along with this, I was lucky if I didn't wear pajamas to school, or if I even brushed my hair. 

This happened to me today.

I know I live in Utah and I know its always freezing for 7 out of the 12 months and I still can't seem to dress right for the weather. I just forget how cold it actually is. This morning when I was walking to school I had on leggings and my brothers sweatshirt. These clothes would be acceptable in North Carolina weather where 30 degrees is freezing and the end of the world. Again, I live in Utah. It was 19 degrees.  As I was walking it also occurred to me that I didn't brush my hair that morning, or put any makeup on.  Hi, I am still my 10 year old self. 

************

Lately i've realized how many things I take for granted. 

I'm so grateful for the way I was raised. My parents taught me how to clean up after myself and how to care for my siblings. These lessons have gotten me the jobs I have today.

I love being a nanny, although its really hard. 

I love seeing how i've rubbed off on them, even if I don't realize it.

I love calling those girls suckas. 

"Come on suckas - Catch me suckas" etc. 

The other day I was getting all of them out of the bath and Cambree starts running around screaming, "NO PANTS, SUCKAS!"

I died, literally died. 

Cambree is also potty trained. Although, somedays I think she forgets that she is.

One day she peed her pants three times and I kept asking her if she was a big girl because big girls don't pee their pants. Later we were eating dinner and Cambree jumps down and runs away to the bathroom. A few minutes later she screams from upstairs, "Lacey! I'm a big girl!" 

I love my job. 

I also clean houses now. 

I get to lay out cotton balls drenched in peppermint to keep mice away from the food.

I get to kill bugs...lots of bugs.

Its not the most glorious job, but i'm good at it.

This also goes back to my parents.

At one point my mom went and printed out a detailed list of how to clean each room in our house, laminated it, and taped it to every door. This is where I learned. 

I'm also grateful for the people in my life.

My roommates.

The family i'm so lucky to have around.

The family I nanny for.

Boys who come and take our trash out everyday.

Boys who try to explain to me whats wrong with my car...even though I don't understand.

The friends I still have from high school. 

Im grateful for indoor plumbing.

And not having to walk in the snow because I have a car.

And being surrounded by so many great food places.

I hate being so far away, but I love my family. 

I'm Coming Home

I've been at the airport for three hours already...and I haven't taken off.
Why?
No, my plane is not delayed.
No, my plane is not being deiced.
No, my plane did not get hijacked.
Yes, I did arrive at SLC at 7:00 for a flight that leaves at midnight.
I'm just excited to get home, what can I say?

I'm officially caught up on all my tv shows
Moved seats three times to try and find a plug.
Bought a ridiculously expensive and disgusting sandwich
and I ate half of it.
(I also brought snacks...but those were eaten already too.)

I keep refreshing the page that shows me how many seats are open, how many people are flying standby and where I fall.
I have this fear that all the sudden its going to drop to zero and i'll be stuck here.
Seriously, refreshed every few minutes.
But don't worry, for the past two hours its stayed at a constant 20 open seats, 13 standby, and i'm number 7.

I have this monologue planned in my head of what I would say if this plane all the sudden fills up.
It contains things like, "I've been here since 7!" "I will have no way back to Provo!" "I only have a few months to live and if I don't get home tonight I won't be getting home at all!" or [insert something about my family member being in the hospital/getting married/leaving for mission tomorrow].
Would I actually say these things? Probably not. Would they give me a seat if I did? Probably not.
-Except for that one time when I cried when the lady at the check in station told me I couldn't fly an indirect flight my freshman year because I wasn't old enough. My tears worked! She told me to lie about my age to everyone who asked, and that worked also.

I have also planned out what I shall do on this flight home.
I hope to sleep for the full time, but that never happens.
I brought movies.
Three coloring books & Crayons (thanks to an early christmas present from my girls)
I brought my journal.
And of course the sleeping medicine.
What I didn't bring?
My iPod.
In fact its lost.
Shoutout to whoever found it on campus and didn't turn it in.
Have fun with a cracked/blacked out screen and a center/home button that doesn't work.

I once again overpacked.
I once again didn't bring enough snacks.
But hey, I'm dang excited to be going home.

____________________

For the record, I made it home.

The Provo Dating Game

I just have a few things to get off my chest.

I hate dating. We're talking despise. Which kinda sucks because the only way to get out of the dating game is to get married..and the only way to get married is to date.

    Reasons Why I Feel This Way:

1. It literally feels like an interview for how ever many hours it lasts. 

2. I walk away from most first dates not knowing anything about someone except for those generic questions. Don't get me wrong, I love mashed potatoes too, but that doesn't make me want to go on second date with you. I don't want to know your deepest secrets either, but please, give me something with a little substance. 

3. I suck at the generic dating games: Bowling, Mini Golf, Ice Skating. 

3a. Okay, i'm kinda good at ice skating. Unless you try to trick me into holding your hand when I first meet you..no thanks, you ain't sly. 

Working at an ice cream shop has taught me a lot of what not to do while on dates.

Examples:

1. I will not share my sample spoon with my significant other. Seriously, the sample spoon is a sample...for one person. The point is to get a little bit of everything on the tiny spoon space so when you eat the nut and carmel out of pralines and cream and give your boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/husband whats left of the vanilla, that defeats the whole purpose! They have no idea that the praline was covered in caramelized candy (and lets be honest, thats the best part) or that their even was a praline! If I see you do this, and you ask for another sample of another flavor, I will give you significantly smaller sample. Try sharing that one, sucka. 

2.  I will not sit across a table from my other half and: hold their hand, look longingly into their eyes, and forget I even have ice cream until I feel it melting down my hand. 

3. I will not pull into the empty parking lot and make out with my boyfriend for a straight 15 minutes before coming in because the workers will know, and they will be judging me...hard. 

4. I will also not make out with you while the cashier stands and repeats that we owe her $5.15 four times. 

I woke up this morning with my left arm covered in bruises and my right arm covered in pistachio almond. (Seriously, my arm is green.) No big, just filling provos loving, pda hearts with ice cream one scoop at a time.

Libby the Liberty (Formally known as Koook)

I take after my family in many different ways.

1. The amount i'm able to eat.

2. The amount i'm able to love.

3. The amount i'm able to sleep.

4. The amount of car trouble i'm able to have.

For now, lets focus on number four. (Lets be honest, I talk about 1-3 all the time.)

I have the greatest parents ever.

How great you may ask?

Well, when school first started this semester my AWESOME parents sold some things on ebay, saved some money, packed some snacks for my dad, and he made the journey from North Carolina to Utah to bring me my car. I love them. My mom sends me a picture of him leaving mooresville and three days later he appears in ghoods parking lot. (Just to paint a picture of what he looked like.. All the windows were down, he was sweaty, and he had a permanent seatbelt sweat stain across his chest.) In order to save gas he drove the whole way with the windows down, hes so legit.  The next day Lyndsi took him to the airport and he flew back to the east coast and went back to work.

I love having my car. I've missed it so much. I'm so thankful my family was able to this for me (and corey). It has allowed me to keep my job and allowed Corey to have a job that he is also able to drive to. 

It has also brought us some problems.

Example:

Me: "Guys, I just refilled my coolant tank a few days ago and its already overheating again, what do you think is wrong?"

Boys: "...You probably have a leak, you should get that fixed."

-A few weeks later-

Me: "Uhhh, can you come outside, my car is smoking and it smells like butt."

Boy as he crawls on the ground to look under my car: "Did you ever get that leak fixed?"

Me: "Well...no. They couldln't find it."

Boy: "I bet they could find it now."

And boy did they find it.

And by they I mean my Uncle Rodger.

And by uncle I mean my dads cousin...but he calls himself our uncle

And I stick to that because its easier than trying to really figure out what he is to me.

Rodger is a mechanic.

He looks and fixes our car for us all the time.

He took my car into work with him, checked it out, and it turns out my radiator is cracked. 

"I'll put it in for you for free, its a hassle, but i'll do it. You can come sit with me while I do it. Its a little under 200 dollars. As soon as you get the money i'll take you to buy one and we'll fix it. You can come over tonight and pick your car back up."

I don't want to know how much it would cost us to bring it somewhere to be fixed.

I love Rodger.

Lyndsi brought me to his house so I could pick my car back up. 

We walk inside and Rodger is eating pizza with two of his friends.

"Ya'll sit down! You want some pizza?!"

Rodgers house is great, and so southern, and so is he.

He grew up in greensboro with my dad, went to school in utah, and then never left.

Everyone drinks out of mason jars, he doesn't understand why people don't like milk, his floor creaks, and his house just screams the south.

He takes me outside to my car and tries to explain to me what was wrong with my car.

I didn't understand most of what he said.

But! Are you ready? Because this part is the whole reason i'm writing this post.

Rodger had my hood propped up with a bat. (It won't stay up by itself.)

"Clarence out grew this bat two seasons ago. Its the perfect fit for your car so I want you to have it. Use it when every you need too! If there are any boys chasing you..or dogs, just whip it out. I also filled up four big ol' jugs of water and put them in your backseat. I noticed you only had one and this time you won't have to go inside as often to get water when you need to refill your coolant." 

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am now the proud owner of a bat. Thank you.

I get in my car and I notice many different things immediately. 

1. My window was down. 

      - My mom hates this. She hates it when my dad leaves the car windows down because bugs and other creatures in. Rodger obviously has many similarities with my dad.

2. My radio was on an oldies station.

      - Blinded by the light was the first song that came on. It reminded me so much of my dad.  Whenever I ride anywhere with him we also listen to his CDS and he sings every single word. One day I mentioned how I liked Jackson Browne and he brought me his burned cd so I could download it onto my computer. Driving away from Rodgers I couldn't bring myself to turn the station, or roll my window up, I felt like I was at home. 

Rodgers on the left, my dad on the right.

I'm Still Here.

Remember me?
I'm still here.
Truth is, i've written lots of things, just none of those things have actually been able to make it to the official published page.  They stay hidden from you, but taunt me with red italicized letters reminding me that my drafted post is way to emotional for you right now, they're my raw thoughts, and in a folder they will remain.

Nannying is hard.
Everyday I leave there exhausted and wonder how I will ever be able to be mom and do this 24/7.
But lets be honest, I am like a mom to these girls.
The other day I stood at the door with their mom and we discussed whether or not she should put the youngest one in preschool yet or wait another year.
Me! She talked to me about it! Her employee!
We talk about the best ways to get Kylie to eat her dinner instead of always eating pb&j sandwiches. When ever it comes time to cook dinner, Cambree always asks to sit on the counter and watch me. Shes learning to talk really well, we can actually have many conversations now.
Mark always offers to help me with my car and Stacey always tells me how much she appreciates me.
This job is hard, but its worth it.

Tonight I sit in my torn up sweatpants, and a boys warm up jacket. (A boy? My boy? The boy?)
Its ten till midnight and Rebecca is making cookies while we sing along to her pandora.
Shes sleeping with me tonight in the party bed because Adriana is off being legit and helping Romney campaign in Colorado. I don't know how, but I once again lucked out with my roommates. We all clicked so instantly, and our personalities even everyone else's out.

I often thing about going home. Its a reoccurring thought in my head.
I've wanted to go home since I got here, but its not because I don't like Utah, I just really really like home.  This thought is pressured by many different circumstances going on in my brain that I can't control. I push them out and go to work, or school, or lyndsis. I work through it because this place is my home.

It snowed today.
I bought the new TSwift CD.
and I painted my nails this cool mint color.
Things are good.

Settle down, it'll all be clear

Don't pay no mind to the demons

They fill you with fear

The trouble it might drag you down

If you get lose, you can always be found

Just know you're not alone

Cause i'm going to make this place your home.

That One Time I Was A College Athlete

Do you remember that?
Did you know that?
Its true.
But I feel the need to start from the beginning.

When I started sports I was real young, one favorite teams I remember playing on was my t-ball team.  I'm pretty sure we were ballin, and I don't remember there being many other girls on the team.  Was I good a t-ball? Heck no. Was I good at running from base to base? You better believe it.  Coach Temple had told me that I was fast, and told my mom to make me keep it up because he didn't want me to lose that speed.  I don't think I knew how fast I was at the time, sprinting just came natural to me.  I use to race strangers in parks, and bet boys money at my brothers games that I could beat them in a race - I always did.

Rec soccer was when I realized I had something other people didn't.  I smoked the boys at sprinting drills, I loved getting break aways, I just loved running with the ball at my feet.  When I reached high school it came time to decide if I would try out for the soccer team or not.  In all honesty, I didn't think I was good enough. The thought of playing with the girls who were on region 3 teams and had won multiple state championships scared me to death.  Instead, I retreated to the track.  Our first practice lasted all of 30 minutes because our coach was sick.  I was just the timid, skinny, white girl who had no idea what she was doing. A few practices in I realized I just how I compared to all the other girls, and it was pretty dang good. I got a spot on both the 4x1 and 4x2 relay team.  I always placed in the top of the girls 100m race and our 4x2 team literally smoked everyone.  We made it to regionals and that was my first big race, our 4x2 placed fourth which meant we made it to states! We were the first sprinting relay from Lake Norman High School to ever make it that far.. so I can say i've made history. (We were also composed of 3 white freshman). We practiced our handoffs all week long, drove the hour and a half to Greensboro A&T field, sat around all day, warmed up, walked our lane, and finally it was our turn to run. Katie was the first leg and after she handed the baton off to me I could barely breath.  I caught my rhythm and I could hear the girl in the lane beside me literally breathing in my ear. To this day I still don't know what happened, I don't know if anyone does.  But before I knew it my baton was on the ground, somehow mid-step I had managed to let go of it.  For you non track people, the second the baton hits the ground your team is disqualified.  It rolled away with the wind and I chased it across the track, finished my leg, walked off the track and cried my eyes out.  Single handily one of the worst moments i've ever had.

Walking To The Starting Line At States

My sophomore year has a happier story.  Both of our relays once again made it to regionals, our 4x2 missed state by one tenth of a second.  The team who beat us was the same team we had beat the year before by that exact margin. Way to go Kings Mountain.  The regional meet this year just happened to be at Mooresville High School.  Our rival school across the town.  To this day I still have problems driving past that track.  I get to filled with nerves, whether or not i'm actually going to a race.  

Vanilla Flash - Regionals '09.

I started my junior season strong and then slowly went down hill. After my first few practices I was having a lot of problems with the arch in my left foot.  I went to the doctor and I was told I Plantar Fasciitis which pretty much meant my arch was inflamed and I wasn't allowed to run.  On top this we had a brand new coach who had no idea who I was.  When I told him about my injury I honestly think he thought I was making up an excuse to get out of running.  I sat on the bleachers during practices and just watched as the relay teams were formed, I watched my chances slip away.  After I was healed and back out on the track my times SUCKED.  I figured it was because I was coming off an injury and that I would have to get my speed back, but I never did.  One day I went to get blood work done and when the results came back I was informed that "I was recovering from mono."  I now had an explanation for sleeping through every class, seminary, and sucky times.  For the first time ever I was on the B-relay teams.  I hated it, I was so embarrassed.  I was running slower than girls I had beat for the past two years.  It wasn't until our very last regular season meet that I talked my way onto the 4x1 A-team and SMOKED my leg.  That was the first time Coach Carter actually saw my speed.  We had made it to regionals, again.  But our relay ended up folding and we didn't attend.

This is the only picture I have from my junior season.

My senior season is/was hands down my favorite and best season.  I had missed states for indoor by a few tenths of a second and I decided then that that wouldn't happen to my outdoor season.  I put everything into practices and even more into my races.  Our relay started off really rough, mostly because me and another girl absolutely hated each other. Once we decided to actually put our differences aside, for the sake of our relay, the four of us became a small family.  We suffered through the heat and the torture Coach Carter inflicted upon us. As a relay we stayed together through the 27 straight stadium runs, 200 repeats, ladder workouts, and those horrible 800s that had us transitioning from jogging and sprinting.  But our hard work always showed in meets, we were the fastest 4x1 and 4x2 in the country, and 3rd in the conference.  We worked out butts off to make it to regionals our last year when injuries started to finally take there toll. Kiara dislocated her elbow at her cheer practice and she was out, the rest of us had shin splints to the point of barely being able to walk.  (I'm not even joking.  Every time I finished a set I collapsed, I couldn't put any weight on my legs, much less have them take the pounding of slowing down.  Just barely touching my shins made me tear up, so you can imagine how loud I screamed/cried/whaled when I got them rubbed out).  Point being, the relay that had made it to regionals wasn't actually the team that would get to run at regionals. We put in a replacement and went on our way.  Our 4x2 placed 8th while our 4x1 placed 6th.  I had shaved 5 seconds off my 200 times from the time I started track to my last year, and I had shaved almost 2 seconds off my 100.  My favorite memories from high school belonged on that track, and belonged to my relay teams. 

After my last year I wasn't ready to let go.  Once I had decided what college I would be going too I then contacted the coaches of the track team.  Coach Houle at Utah Valley said he would be more than willing to have me.  He set me up an account so I could see summer workouts and keep up with the team.  I worked out on my high school track by myself at night and snuck into the YMCA pool in the morning to do swimming workouts.  I went to Utah and sat through many days of meetings and awkward introductions between the other freshman athletes.  These girls soon became my family, we spent everyday together.  And there is something about making it through the toughest workout ever that bonds people together.  About 3-4 weeks in my body was falling apart.  I couldn't bend my knees with out wanting to cry, and every time I hit the track during a run it felt like someone had a knife underneath my kneecap and was pushing it outward.   I started to see the trainers everyday after practice until they told me I had patella tendinitis in both knees, it was just a lot worse in my right one.  I got a brace for it and went back on the track, I lasted for almost two weeks before I was back with worse pain than before. They had me see the doctor and he told me that my VMO muscle in my quad isn't built up enough.  This means that when I run my knee cap gets pulled to the outside of my leg since it isn't being supported from the top.  When it moves so does my tendons and ligaments, and when it moves back all those things are stuck underneath it.  (Hence the feeling of something being underneath my kneecap).  I was now in the trainers room before and after practice.  They had me doing exercises before, exercises after, and then treatments.  I got a knee brace that was made to hold my kneecap down so it wouldn't move.  That worked for a while! I was back on the track and feeling better.  The brace added an unusual amount of pressure on my hamstring and after a while my leg would completely lock and knot up after a workout, getting those rubbed out was about as painful as getting my shins rubbed. Again, the brace stopped working and I was in more pain than ever.  One workout I just broke down and cried after a set.  The coaches sent me to the trainers where I once again cried in front of a room full of people.  Nothing was working.  I rode the bike and swam instead of running and they told me they didn't know when I would be back on the track, no one knew what was wrong with my knee.  It had come to the point where they were going to send me to a physical therapist everyday instead of the training room.  This meant I had no chance of seeing the track, I wouldn't even be near it.  I was sitting in a room being worked on everyday instead of being out and getting a job to help pay for out of state tuition and rent.  I talked to my mom and she told me she was my biggest fan and that she would support whatever I choose.  I talked to Dorian and he told me he was proud of what I had done and that he would be there for me.  I went into my coaches office after weights one morning and told him I couldn't do it anymore.  I appreciated all the time he has taken with me, and that he gave me the chance to be a part of this team but I needed a break.  I wasn't running, I wasn't on scholarship, I needed a job.  He told me that when I got a job to call him and if I wanted to come back he would work out practices for me so I could do both.  He told me he knows how devastating injuries can be, but he also knows how hard it is to come back after taking a break.  I owe a lot to Coach Smith, being on that team taught me a lot about myself and the things I can accomplish.  I cried in his office and I cried in the locker room when I told the other girls.  That was my team and my family, they were all I knew since I had gotten to Utah.  I still love them, and everything they have done for me. 

 I may not be on the team anymore, but that doesn't mean I didn't keep up with what was going on.  I still knew the workouts, I knew how people placed at meets, I knew how they finished in conference.  I may not be able to wear the jersey anymore, but they are still my teammates.

Take Your Love Somewhere Else

On my iPod I have a bunch of little 'notes' saved about things I want to blog about.
Some no longer make sense to me because I wrote them using key words and now I don't remember what i'm referring to with my key words.  Annoying, Right? I know.  But for now I will hit the ones I remember.

1.  The first Sunday of the Spring semester brought a lot of thoughts. I sat with Adriana in Sacrament like I have for the past year. But the difference was we weren't sitting with Katelyn, Coralee, or Jenna.  (I have a whole post dedicated to how obsessed I am with them, and where they are now).  Instead we sat with Amanda, one of our new roommates.  It was the WEIRDEST feeling.  Since everyone pretty much leaves Provo in the summer we meet with three other wards for the first hour, I couldn't help but think about how my first Sunday of Fall felt.
*First: I tried to look all cute. Ya know? You gotta make good first impressions.  I wore a new pencil skirt, this cheetah shirt I bought from TJ Maxx sometime in High School and I even tried to curl my hair.  For some reason, my hair wouldn't curl, but I ran out of time to actually do anything with it.  While walking down the steps to find out seats I hear a ripping sound.  My skirt had pretty much slit all the way up the back.  All I wanted was to look good that first Sunday and there I was, this little 17 year old, with a poor excuse of curled hair and a skirt with a new slit that could have pretty much got me kicked out of the state of Utah.
* Second: Our first apartment crush. That cute boy that passed us the bread and water became out new fascination for the next 12 hours.  (Minus Adriana, she swears she didn't think he was attractive.)  I'm pretty sure Katelyn called dibs, so we had to respect it. Too bad that night at game night we all thought he was more annoying than good lookin, and then Katelyn runs off and gets married.
*Third: How about that boy that I adopted as my big brother while I had no family out here.  Christian use to play guitar for our apartment all the time, we were all pretty much BFFS. (No seriously, check this one) We all went to the rope swings, dancing, to outdoor movie nights, not to mention all those times we just say and listened to him and Kolby play for us.  I'm telling you, best friends.  These days, we're not as tight with him.  But that hasn't stopped any of us from still loving him, cause Christians just great no matter what.

2. I'm Employed! Again! Yes, two jobs.  Hello workin world, how ya doin?  I'm a nanny three times a week and every other day/night you can find me scoopin ice cream at Baskin Robbins.
* I had applied to SO MANY nannying jobs.  My whole plan is to save enough money this summer to pay my fall/winter rent next year all by myself.  I had a few interviews but nothing even went through, or the family was too far away and it wasn't worth the gas.  One Wednesday I applied to a job randomly and got a call with in the next five minutes.  "Hey, you just answered my ad a few minutes ago, i'm doing interviews today and something tells me you'll be a good match! Can you come in at 3:30? I can fit you in between two other interviews!" I was stunned.  Heck yeah. So I went in, sat down on the couch and tried to explain why i'd be good at watching her children.  I told her about Brad and how much I helped raise him when both my parents went back to work, I know how to clean a house...blah blah blah.  I got a message that night asking if I could come in for a second interview that Saturday. Well duh.  I wake up the next morning and it turns out they didn't want me to come in anymore, they felt so good about it they just straight offered me the job! Great right!? So great! They live in Orem so it literally takes me 7 minutes to get there.  I watch 3 little girls, all under the age of five.  And it seems that the tireder I get, the more wild and energy they have.  Its crazy, and will take some getting use to, but I love it.
* Now to Baskin Robbins.  I really love my job, and the people I work with. Everything is so laid back and its just such an easy atmosphere. I love helping families more than single people.  We have a lot of parents who come in, by themselves, followed by four children.  When it comes to those children scoops, I stick more to the safe side.  But when I serve the parents you BEST BELIEVE I add on a little extra.  They are so patient with the kids, and by the time it becomes there turn I just want them to get what they're payin for, ya know? Also, I don't remember getting ice cream all that often, but i'm sure when I did it probably made my day.  So props to those parents, for you I will scoop big.
* People I won't scoop big for are you obnoxious, annoying couples who can't let go of each other for two seconds to choose your own ice cream.  I don't mind giving out samples, it is my job after all.  But I dont get paid to watch you and your lover share the same sample spoon while looking longingly into each others eyes discussing whether or not the ratio of peanut butter to chocolate is what you've been craving.  Puke, but really, they make me want to puke...in their ice cream.  How about the couple that came in and asked me what flavors we had. I was waiting for him to laugh and say he was joking, he wasnt.  I told him we didn't have a list but all 42 flavors are displayed on the cases above the ice cream they want.  He still wanted me to name them.  "The first case is all our chocolates, we have a lot of different kinds.  The middle case is more of your candy bars and nutty ice cream.  We have snickers, reeses, pralines and cream, that kinda thing.  The last case is more of your fruity flavors and sherbets." The girlfriend draws a blank stare.  "ummmm, do you have chocolate?" By this point i'm smiling through my teeth.  ARE YOU JOKING!? Out of 42 flavors do you really think we don't have chocolate? Why don't you walk down to the case and look at all 14 different kinds of chocolate before you ask that. "Yes, we have chocolate.  Do you want a single scoop, or double?" Another blank stare, "ummm, I don't know." She then proceeds to twirl her greasy hair and look at her boyfriend. I try again, "Do you want one scoop of ice cream, or two?" She wants one, in a cup.  But only after more deliberation and explanations about the different kinds of cones we have, and of course, more blank stares.
I'm done.  I really do love my job. I don't mind if someone tries 10 different flavors, ice cream is important! But don't try 10 different flavors with a critical analysis of each one in between.  You like it or you dont, make up your mind and move on.
Okay, i'm really done.

My Mom > Your Mom

In honor of mothers day I would just like to make a shout out to all the women who have helped mold me into who I am today.
So here we go, lets talk about the women in my life.

First I want to acknowledge two of the women who played a big part in my life throughout high school.
Mama Blihar, and Mrs. Rhonda.

Back story: The Blihars moved to North Carolina my 8th grade year.  Me and Rachel played soccer and volleyball together, and we were in the same line in PE class.  I would say we were friends at that time, but we never really hung out.  That was until one day when I got a random phone call from Rachel. She was inviting me to go on the boat with her the following weekend, I agreed.  (First, this is a little odd because I think i'm really bad at putting myself out there and making new friends, especially alone.)  Anyways, I went.  The second I walked through Rachels door I was met by her mom, "Lacey, i'm so glad you could come! Are you hungry?"  From that point on every time I walked through the door I was greeted and with in a few minutes the question was asked whether or not I was hungry.  Sometimes, if Mrs. Blihar knew I was coming she would already have a sandwich waiting on the table for me.  That is just one of the small things she did for me.  When I lived in the doll house she would always drive me home, and on those rides she would ask how my life was, and the cool thing was, she actually wanted to know! I can't even tell you how many times we would sit outside my house in her mini-van just talking about boys in my life, or lack there of.  If I ever needed a ride home from school, or a ride to exit 25, she was more than willing. If our water was cut off I knew I could go over and use her shower, and then have a meal waiting on me afterwards.  When me and Rachels friendship went off track for a while, she never treated me any differently, I still knew I could always come to her if I needed anything.  Before I left for college I went to say goodbye to her, she had already taken Rachel to ECU but we just sat in the kitchen, ate chips, and talked about what college would be like (and of course what meals she would cook for us when we were home on break).  Mrs. Blihar showed me unconditional love, and that just because you're a mom doesn't mean you still can't have fun.  She knew how to mix work with play and to never take anything to serious.  When what you love no longer becomes fun, its time to make a change with something.

My relationship with Mrs. Rhonda is different than my relationship with Mrs. Blihar.  I first met the Albrittons when they moved down from New York in the 6th grade.  Me and Dorian were at Lakeshore together and our little brothers played LYAA Football together. I started loving Mrs. Rhonda when I saw how much she loved Bradley.  (You love members of my family, chances are i'll love you back.)  Bradley has been part of Mrs. Rhondas daycare pretty much sense...birth. She is, hands down, Brads second mom. I have had countless times when I go to pick up Bradley and I end up in a 45 minute long conversation with her while Brad continues to run around the backyard.  Sometimes they start with easy questions like, "How is track going" while others got straight to the point like our "Why aren't you taking my son to Prom?" one, and sometimes they even ended with me tearing up at the fence post when talking about my family.  All of those conversations, simple or not, have played a major part on the relationship I now have with her.  She always let me know I was welcome in her home, and that she was there if my family needed anything.  Now, when I go over to see Dorian part of my time always belongs to me talking to Mrs. Rhonda about Brad, college, or other things/people that just can't be named on this blog.  If we're skyping or talking on the phone, there is most likely a point where I have a short conversation her. But the thing is, talking to Mrs. Rhonda isn't a struggle for me like it would be with other parents, its easy.  I enjoy it because she has taken the time to get to know me.  Throughout my seven years of knowing Dorian, I learned a lot from his Mom.  Whether it was how important respect is to any relationship, what Mrs. Rhonda says goes, or how things just need to be told how they are - there's a time to play and there's a time to get things done.  Mostly, I watched how she loved her family, and how she loved my own.

These women have influenced my life and my actions in many different ways, and I have the utmost respect and love for the both of them.  But the woman I have to thank for everything i've accomplished is my own mom.

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My Mom has always been, and always will be my number one fan. She has come to every soccer game, swim meet, or track meet that i've participated in.  She has drove the countless hours, and sat through many different crazy weather patterns just to watch me do what I love.  Like the soccer game that lasted 3 hours instead of the original 65 minutes because of the constant lightning strikes.  Or that one time I had an invitational at Chapel Hill for track, we woke up at 6am, she drove me the 4 hours it took to get there, watched me run for 8 seconds, and then drove me the 4 hours home.  At tournaments or meets she always saved enough money for me so I could get a t-shirt...whether or not I would wear it.  No matter how intense the meet or game was, no matter how nervous or upset I was at something, I could always pick her voice out of the crowd. She was the mom on my team who wrote down the names and numbers of all the girls and printed a copy for each mom so they would all know who to cheer for.  After games and meets she never scorned me if I did bad, she always had positive things to say.  There was a point when I ran for UVU that I didn't know if it was for me, I thought I was in over my head, and I just didn't enjoy it anymore.  I remember I wrote my mom a long email telling her how I felt about the situation.  I had never quit a sport before, I had always stuck it out, but I felt like I couldn't do it anymore.  She replied with, "Well hang in there...and you can always talk to me and be honest with me.  Just remember that I am always your #1 fan and i'm always on your side."  Her answer didn't tell me what to do, but it was exactly what I needed to hear.

She always sticks up for her kids, no matter the cost.  During one of our moves Lyndsi had an English paper due, but since our computer wasn't connected she wasn't able to print it out so it could be turned in.  When she explained this to her teacher she was told with out this paper she would fail the class and that its her fault she couldn't print her paper off.  My mom emailed and called this teacher and when she didn't reply my mom showed up at the school and scheduled her own 'meeting'.  This meeting ended with the teacher in tears and Lyndsi being able to turn her paper in with out it being marked down.   In high school there was a girl who attempted to make my life pretty terrible.  One night she appeared at our door, and when I told my mom who it was she made it clear that this girl was not welcome on our property, and that if she was going to start trouble she could march right down our driveway and get back in her friends car and never come back.  While living in Winslow Bay we had a neighbor who pretty much couldn't stand our family.  One day he made some rude/sarcastic/mean comment to Corey while he was playing in our backyard.  When my mom heard she, once again, let him know who was boss, and that no one messed with her kids.

There was a point in time when my mom went back to school to be a dental hygienist.  First, people are rarely accepted into the first time they apply, a lot of the time people apply multiple times before they are in.  But not my mom! She got in the first time she applied.  Throughout her entire schooling she raised a family of four children.  No matter how much she had to study at night she always made time to lay down with us until we fell asleep, she always read us stories, she always made sure she was our mom before she was student.  I have many memories  of days where I was able to go to school with my mom and sit in her classes with her, even then she always made sure I wasn't hungry, or that I always had an activity to occupy my time.  When it came time for graduation many people in my moms class didn't have children, they could devote all their time to studying for their boards. My mom found a balance between the two and still managed to score they highest score out of everyone of the boards, and graduate at the top of her class.  I struggle enough with  my finals now and I don't have anything close to a family that occupies my time.  When I was younger I didn't realize how big of an accomplishment this was for my mom to achieve, but now that I can look back on it I finally realized that my mom has pretty much always been a beast.

When it came to boys or friends my mom never put tight restrictions on me.  She let me go, she let me make my own mistakes, but she never said 'I told you so'.  She was there for me my sophomore year when the boy I had been crushin on BIG TIME decided he didn't like me anymore and decided to date a fish faced ginge (maybe i'm still a little bitter about how that was handled).  She was there my senior year when the boy I thought I was going to prom with decided to go with his ex-girlfriend, and she was there my last night in Mooresville after I said goodbye to a boy I loved and literally couldn't stop crying.  She was there when I was fighting with my best friends and sat with me while I cried all the way through The Hannah Montana Movie.  She always kept an open mind to the people I came home with, and she always had the greatest amount of trust in me.

I learned everything I know from my mom.  I learned how to love others, how to figure out my priorities, and how to be successful.  More than anything else, I learned that everything comes back to family.  Even if my mom and dad were having problems we were always reassured that no matter what, we'd be a family.  Watching the relationship that my mom still has with her own family is exactly what I want with my family.  Through her example i've learned how to be selfless, and how to find a balance between helping others while still taking care of yourself.  I have never questioned how important I am to my mom, or how important my siblings are to her.  Being away from her while i'm in college has been one of the hardest parts, but she always seems to know when something is wrong, and she always reminds me that she is only a phone call away.  I hope I can express to my family everything she has expressed to us.

My Mom > Your Mom