Writers

For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to be a writer.

It wasn't enough to just write.  I wanted to earn the title of WRITER.

In the sixth grade, my English teacher must have seen a hidden yearning within me, because she gave me an individual assignment, separate from the rest of the class.  I was to write a "book," and at the end of the assignment period I would read it to my class.

I was both exhilarated and terrified.

At that time, I was a very shy girl.  It was difficult for me to raise my hand to answer any questions in class, let alone read an entire piece aloud.  I was proud to be so singled out.  While I was given permission to sit quietly in a separate room to work on my creation every day, the rest of the class worked on English assignments.  However, it was a lot of pressure to be so singled out.  I felt that everyone would be looking to me, thinking that I was showing off, and torment me even more than they already did.

I wrote a story about a girl who travels through time, having adventures with a new friend named Zack.  I was terribly embarrassed to read the passages out loud which showed the awakening within a girl when she discovers boys for the first time, and I know that I blushed profusely when the two held hands.  But I also remember how it felt to share something that came from within me, something that didn't exist before I put pen to paper, something that was a part of me.

It was wonderful.

I went through countless spiral notebooks throughout the next several years, filling them with stories, poems, and even songs.  My sophomore year of high school, I attempted to write another "book."  This one was about a girl who is mistaken for another girl, living in a mysterious castle.  She must choose between two different men, the stalwart and brave one, or the mysterious and dark one.  Which one is deceiving her, and which is the true hero?  I would tease my friends with the story, a chapter at a time.  They would beg me to finish the next installment.

I was in heaven!  They all told me that I was going to be a writer someday.  I believed them.

Then, I embarked on the new and exciting adventure of college, and the practical need to provide for a family became a top priority,  My beloved literature classes were replaced with science and biology, anatomy and physiology.  Instead of reading for pleasure, my time was consumed with studying from ten pound text books.  Instead of experimenting with alliteration and prose, I was engrossed in research papers and statistical charts.

It took two years after I graduated from college before I actually picked up a novel to read for pleasure.  As I began to pour over the crinkly yellow pages, it was like something awakened within me again.  I began to devour books, trying to catch up on the years that I had devoted to studying for my degree.

I tried to form a book club.  I was living in Boise, Idaho at the time, and craved the social interaction associated with a club, and also the intellectual stimulation which comes from literary dissection.  A few people came a few times.  It was a disappointing venture.

We moved to Meridian, Idaho.  I tried to form another book club.  No one was interested.  When asked, everyone would respond, "I don't have time to read."  I would think to myself, "Neither do I, but now I have learned to MAKE time."

Finally, after moving to Everett, Washington, I made my most recent attempt at forming a book club.  I felt all alone in the area.  We had no family close by and I needed to feel connected to where we lived.

Once again, I was the shy new girl, but I asked everyone that I met if they would like to be in a book club, started by me.  Everyone wanted to join!

That was seven years ago.  Our book club has been going strong ever since.  It has been one of the most fulfilling things that I have ever been a part of.  And even though people come in and out, moving across the country or even just in the city ten minutes away,I have formed a connection with them that I never dreamed was possible.  Sometimes our discussions are deep, sometimes they are just frivolous fun, but they give me the fuel that I need to continue to motivate myself to accomplish all those things that I want to achieve.

It was this amazing success with a book club, and the subsequent pouring over hundreds of books, good and bad, which reminded me of my original dream, that of being a writer.

As a test, I started a blog.  It was scary at first.  I was completely out of practice.  My writing was halting and laborious.  I struggled over every sentence, every phrase, every idea.  But gradually the words began to flow again.  I began to discover my voice.

This voice is different.  This voice is no longer eleven years old, pining to experience life and everything it has to offer.  This voice has already experienced heartbreak, extreme joy, and everything in between.  This voice can share the richness of dreams already attained, and hopes of new experiences yet to come.  This voice has the understanding of ultimate sorrow mixed with the solace of gratitude and humor.

This voice is mine.

Relaxing at our Writer's Retreat in September 2013.

A year ago I was invited by a friend to join a writing group.  Six ladies with the giant dream of honing our skills as writers and creating something special.  I jumped on the chance!  Each one of us have completely different voices, yet all have the same dream.  We meet once a month, sharing things which we are working on and giving general encouragement and advice.  It is a safe place to share and learn.  I look forward to our meetings every month.

We recently started a blog, which includes serial stories, written by us in sequence.  We start with a prompt, and each of us begins a story.  We pass that beginning on to the next person, who adds a section to the story, then passes it on to the next.  It has been a fun project, and a wonderful exercise in brainstorming new and interesting ideas, matching voices, and creating memorable characters.

I invite each of you to check out our new blog.  Please follow us daily, as a new section of the week-long story is added every morning.  We are so excited to share our stories and hopefully instill in you a new desire to create something of value.

I find that my journey as a writer is still evolving.  As I continue to develop my voice, I am also discovering what is inside of me. I may have substituted a laptop for my spiral bound notebook, but the end result is the same.

What leaves my fingertips is my heart.

Prepared

At my church, the children of the congregation are part of an organization called the Primary.  They have many teachers and leaders, and are taught principles of the gospel through lessons, group activities, and music.

Last Sunday I was checking with our Ward's Primary Presidency about when we were scheduled to perform our annual Primary Program.  I am currently playing the piano as accompanist for the Primary, and was concerned if the date of the performance was while we are scheduled to be on vacation in Hawaii in October.

Luckily, the dates were not an issue.

Heidi Barker, from the presidency, teased me that I wasn't getting out of playing for the program that easily....Then she told me that I had to bring her back some chocolate-covered macadamia nuts.

I think I just got out of it, but it wasn't easy.

After church I had an appointment to meet with the leader of our regional area, our Stake President Porterfield.  He came to our house for the interview.

I was on pins and needles.  There are not very many times that a Stake President comes into your home to meet specifically with you.  There are actually only a handful of reasons that he would do so.  I was listing those reasons in my head and starting to panic, stewing over it the entire weekend.  Finally the suspense was resolved and President Porterfield got to the point of his visit.

He extended a new calling (or responsibility specific to the church) to me, and asked me to be the new Stake Primary President.

I was in shock.

There are eight separate Primaries in our Stake, each with its own presidency which oversees the week-to-week needs of their children.  The Stake Primary Presidency acts as a support for the Ward presidencies, training them and helping them with any difficulties they encounter.  They also assist with other functions of the Stake in relation to the children.  It is a big job, and will involve visiting the other Wards' Primaries frequently.

I struggled through this week, unable to discuss my new calling with anyone from my Stake, and given the responsibility to choose two counselors, to complete our presidency before our Stake Conference held this weekend.

I was bombarded with feelings of inadequacy. 

I remembered very clearly how I felt when President Porterfield told me, leaning in close with an intensity in his eyes, saying, "I believe very strongly that you are meant to be the Stake Primary President at this time."

In my head I asked, "WHY?!" 

Why me, when there are so many other women much more qualified than I am to fulfill this calling?

I relayed my feelings of fear and inadequacy to Eric, while he was still in Las Vegas for work. He texted me back, saying, "Don't let negative thoughts enter into your mind. The last year and a half have been preparation for you. You have a lot to offer."

On Friday I went to the temple, seeking the peace and comfort which comes in the house of the Lord.  As I was waiting for my session to begin, I read from the Book of Mormon. I opened to the book of Ether and read the account of the brother of Jared preparing to cross the sea with his eight barges.

In chapter 2:25 it reads: "And behold, I prepare you against these things; for ye cannot cross this great deep save I prepare you against the waves of the sea, and the winds which have gone forth, and the floods which shall come...."

Then in chapter 3:14 it continues: "Behold, I am he who was prepared from the foundation of the world to redeem my people. Behold, I am Jesus Christ. I am the Father and the Son. In me shall all mankind have life, and that eternally, even they who shall believe on my name; and they shall become my sons and my daughters."

I was struck with the use of the word prepared. Once I got home I looked up the definition of prepare in the dictionary.  It read:

"To make ready beforehand for some purpose..."

Even though I often do not feel adequate, and wonder if I am capable of completing this assignment, I can learn to trust the Lord.  He has prepared me for this work, because I cannot "cross this great deep" without me putting my faith in him.  And just like Jesus Christ was prepared for his glorious role on the earth, to be our Savior and Redeemer, I was also prepared for the many roles that I would carry out while upon the earth.

As I sat in reverence in President Porterfield's office this afternoon, his hands placed upon my head to set me apart as the Stake Primary President, I felt a warmth of reassurance that not only was I capable, but that I was meant to have this experience.  I knew that it would be a stretch for me, but it would be an amazing opportunity to learn and grow in the gospel, and that I wouldn't have to face the storm alone.

I am so thankful for this opportunity which I have been given to serve the children of our Stake, and feel the Savior's all-encompassing love for them.  What a blessing it will be to stand as a witness to them that he lives, and help them "believe on [his] name; and they shall become [his] sons and [his] daughters."

Soccer Mom

We can now call it Fall because the craziness of soccer season has begun!

 

This year, Ethan moved up a division, to the U16 boys team. There are only two teams in his division in the league which we play in (Northwest Christian Sports League), so they will play each other every week.  I volunteered to be the Team Mom again this year, crazy me.  I love it, though.  I love getting to watch these boys grow and develop over the season, getting more confident in their skills and stronger in their stamina.  I also love taking pictures of all the players.  Every year for the last three seasons I have put together a slide show with kickin' music, showcasing the boys and making them all look like rock stars.  The boys eat it up, and I love watching their reactions as they see themselves blown up larger than life on the screen.

 

New for this year, Erica has started her first season of soccer!  She has loved kicking the ball around and running around the field with all her new friends.  I couldn't believe that she let me put all the gear on her: the shin guards, long socks, shorts, and cleats.  My little princess, who refuses to wear anything other than a dress and pretty shoes, was so excited to play, that she let the no-skirt policy slide.  I think the sweetest part has been watching Ethan teach her a few moves.  Even before practices began, he had set up his goal and was running drills, showing her how to kick the ball into the net.  I love that boy!  I think that all the attention he gave her was the main driving force behind how excited Erica was to play!

 

On Wednesday night, Ethan's team played a special Parent vs. Boys scrimmage.  Since Eric was out of town, I got roped into playing.  I have never played a game of soccer in my life.  Sure, I've kicked a ball around a little, but never an actual game, with thirteen-year-old boys pounding down the field at you, their dangerous cleat-covered feet slipping around your unprotected shins, a look of maniacal determination in their eyes.

 

Yes, I screamed...a few times.

 

The line from "A League of Their Own," where Tom Hanks bellows to the all-girls team: "There's no crying in baseball!!!" kept ringing in my ears.

 

Despite the fact that I completely embarrassed myself with my inability to play any sort of sport whatsoever, I had a really great time.  The boys clobbered us 5-3, and Ethan scored three of their goals!  That's my boy!  He must get it from his dad....My score was: 0.

 

The highlight of the evening was rushing to my meeting scheduled at the church right after the game.  I went running into the church, sweat drenching the back of my hair enough that I could wring it out.  I wrapped myself up in a jacket to hide the stink, and pretended that I was a super cool mom, because I was playing so hard with our soccer boys.

 

Of course, super cool soccer moms probably wouldn't even break a sweat.

 

After all, there's no crying in soccer!



The Start of School and a KFC Meltdown

The kids head back to school tomorrow.

This should be the only preface I need for any mother of children ages five years and up, to understand.

I have been just a little bit stressed over the start of this new school year. Not only will my baby be starting up in Kindergarten, but my oldest child will be wrapping up her final year of high school as a Senior. There is a huge range of emotions on both ends of the spectrum.

Four different kids in four different schools, with four different buses and four different schedules. Sounds like the beginning of a Dr. Seuss book, or maybe I should say a nightmare written by Stephen King.

Yes, I am feeling a little on edge tonight. No matter how hard I try to be organized and stay on top of things, I can't seem to keep it together.

Last week Ethan was supposed to go to his Sale & Info Days at the middle school, where they pay all their fees and get their schedules and lockers. I marked my calendar, made special arrangements to leave work early in order to get him to it on time, only to discover that it had been the day before! Sorry, Ethan, that you have a lame mother.

I don't even have all their school supplies yet. What more could they need than pencils and paper? Turns out, it's a lot more! And every year I am scrambling to find the college ruled composition books and extra large glue sticks.

Tonight, after a busy day of work, running to Erica's kindergarten orientation during my lunch hour, then picking her up from soccer practice after work, I decided that I was not going to cook dinner. Instead I went to KFC and, after stopping at the music store to pick up Ethan's trumpet book for Band, brought home a big bucket of chicken strips. My kids love them. I could care either way, I just love the biscuits. Something about biscuits always reminds me of growing up and good, home-cooked comfort.

The kids were excited, pulling out all the food, while I was pouring over a text which I had received from Eric. Did I mention that he is missing out on sharing the entire nightmare experience with me this week by working in Las Vegas?! But that's another post...

I looked up at the food splayed on the table, but could not see the box of biscuits.

"Where are the biscuits?" I asked, with a surge of raw emotion threatening to erupt from me. "DID THEY FORGET THE BISCUITS?!" (Insert very scary face here.)

As a side note, you must understand that it seems like whenever I go through the drive-thru of any restaurant, they ALWAYS forget something, and I almost NEVER check the bag until I get home and it is too late.

The kids got very VERY quiet as they saw the look on my face.

Ethan opened up the bucket of chicken and there they were, four glorious blobs of fluffy dough sitting on top of the chicken. Who knows why they weren't in their normal box, but the crisis was averted.

We had a good laugh over my over-the-top reaction. I told the kids that I was just a teensy little bit stressed out. Heidi informed me that when she saw my face, she thought, "Oh no, this is going to go real bad, real fast!"

She will understand one day, when she is sending her own precious offspring into the big and scary world, and feeling like time is slipping away so much faster than it should.

I hope she has some biscuits on those days.

He Knows Me By Name

On August 6th was mine and Eric's 19th wedding anniversary.

It was a really special day for us. We happened to be in Boise visiting for a family reunion, so we thought it would be meaningful to attend a session in the same temple that we were married in 19 years previously.  My parents and brother Michael attended with us and it was an experience that I will never forget.

The Boise Temple was recently completely remodeled. Everything on the inside was gutted out and redesigned, and the outside was resurfaced with a beautiful white granite. This was our first time through the temple since all the changes were made. 

As I entered this beautiful building, both completely new yet forever the same, I was overcome with memories from my first experience in that sacred House of the Lord. Not only was I sealed to Eric on that special day 19 years previously, but I also made other sacred covenants with the Lord for the first time. To add to this remembrance of first experiences, we were also able to see for the first time a beautiful new production made for part of the temple ceremony. It was like I was reliving that new day again so many years ago, and I was once again full of awe and wonder at how blessed I am to live in this world at this time.

 

There were several other beautiful moments which occurred that morning, so sacred and special that I find them difficult to talk about. As I was sitting in the Celestial Room, the holiest of places in the temple, surrounded by my family and with Eric by my side, I contemplated what I had just experienced and why it meant so much to me.

I was suddenly overwhelmed by such a rush of warmth and love so powerful it left me breathless. In that moment I felt so incredibly and personally loved by my Father in Heaven. He knew my needs, my fears, my strengths, my weaknesses, and He LOVED ME! I knew that He knew me by name.

Why did this mean so much to me at this particular time?

There is nothing more personal or sacred that identifies you individually and apart from anyone else, than your name.

I have been struggling with a lot of personal issues for many months now. Despite my best efforts, I have been continually berating myself for my inability to overcome personal weaknesses, and it has been a struggle to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes I am so overwhelmed with the idea of who I want to be, that it seems impossible for me to be able to overcome my personal weaknesses and be that woman in my mind. How could I truly be loved as a Daughter of God if I wasn't perfect?

In my mind, I already knew that I was loved, even despite my imperfections. But at that moment, I really needed to KNOW, and in His perfect love and mercy, my Father in Heaven knew what I needed.

He knows me by name.

Tonight I had another difficult moment, when fear and desperation gripped me as I watched Elise endure another terrifying seizure. I held her, trying to calm her and comfort her as she cried, while at the same time I was screaming in my head, "WHY? WHY? WHY must we go through this? How can I endure seeing my child suffer like this?"

Then once again I was comforted with the same reassurance that not only am I loved, and my trials and fears are understood, but that Elise is so very loved as well. All at once, I flashed back to that special day in the temple and what I experienced there. Almost from the moment that the remembrance flooded my heart, Elise seemed to feel it as well. Her body started to relax and her rattling breaths began to slow and steady. I was once again overcome with a feeling of peace and love, knowing that our needs were understood and met.

Elise looked up at me and gave a small, tired smile, then rolled onto her side and snuggled into her sleeping position, her eyes quickly drifting shut.

I am so grateful for a Father in Heaven who answers prayers, especially the ones that we don't even know we are sending up to Him. I am so grateful for His guidance and the constant assurances I receive to confirm that I am a beloved Daughter of God, despite my weaknesses and faults.

He knows me by name.

Picture Perfect Prom

Saturday night was the regional Mormon Prom, held in Issaquah, about forty-five minutes away from Everett.  Heidi went with a good friend, Drew Surowiec, who lives in Port Orchard.  He is our babysitter's nephew, and he and Heidi have hung out several times when he visits his family here in Everett.

 

 We found a really pretty dress online and had it custom-sized for Heidi.

 Shoulder detail....

 I took Heidi to a salon to have a fancy hairstyle done.  It was a little crazy looking when the stylist was finished, so Heidi deconstructed it when we got home and did her own hair!  It helped that the stylist added so much product to her hair, so it worked fine, but I think next time Heidi is on her own!  She doesn't need any help!

 My gorgeous girl.

I can't believe that she has gotten this old.  Where has the time gone?  She is such a treasure to me, and I have loved every minute watching her grow into a beautiful young lady!

 Drew came to pick Heidi up and they exchanged flowers.  He looks a little nervous about the pins...

 What a cute couple!

 Heidi made Drew's boutenierre with her Laurel class on Friday night.  She did a great job!

 Heidi and Drew went with a great group of friends to the dance.  They had so much fun together!  Half of them didn't know each other when the night started out since they were from all over the region, but by the end they were all great friends!

 The group went to Buca di Beppo (Italian restaurant) for dinner and had a great time.  Lots of yummy food!

 The dance had a Pirate theme.

Heidi had such a great time with her friends!  I am so glad that she gets to have these wonderful high school experiences with people who share her same values!  It was a wonderful night!



Elise Turns Nine!

We celebrated Elise's ninth birthday this week.  It was on April 15th, and true to form, Eric was submitting our taxes that morning!



 

Elise loved the princess cake!  Of course, so did Erica!!

 

 

 

 She even blew out her own candles this year!  I'm not sure how much spit did the extinguishing, but she got the job done!

 Elise loved her new little monkey.

She had a multi-colored cake, colored with neon dyes.  The cake was bright pink and green (which looks like a citron-color), and the frosting was a fun purple color (the camera does not capture the color well at all!) and was flavored with coconut extract.

 

HaPpY BiRthDaY ELiSE!!!

 

We are so lucky to have you in our family!

Spring Break in Salt Lake

 For Spring Break this year we went down to Utah to visit my sister Diana and her sweet little newborn. 

Meet Finley Davis Dzubak! 



I can tell that Diana is going to be such a great mommy!  She already is! 



A new little family!  Finn, with Diana and Jordan.



 

Elise was quite intrigued by the baby.  She kept coming over and looking at him, touching his head very softly.  Who can blame her?  He is adorable!

 

 

Erica was mostly enamored by Diana and Jordan's dog, Trixie.  She played with her the entire time we were there, and even befriended the neighbor's dog, Kona, as well.  Of course she doesn't  remember Finley's, Diana's, or Jordan's names, but she still asks when we can go back to "Trixie's house!"

We were in Salt Lake over General Conference weekend.  We weren't able to attend any sessions, but the kids enjoyed visiting Temple Square.  It had been so long since we were there last, Heidi and Ethan didn't remember anything about it, so they were excited to wander around.

 



We ran into Eric's sister, Michelle, and her family while we were in Salt Lake.  During our stop in Boise, we visited with some wonderful friends who we haven't seen for many years.  We had lunch with Eric's Aunt Patty, spent some quality time playing around with my parents, and even played a game of Dwindle with my Grandma!  It was such a memorable trip, connecting with so many people, and I am so glad that we were able to go!