Friday Family Feature

I can not even believe that my oldest niece is a senior in high school.  Really?!?!?!?!?!?!?  She's my favorite Laurajane...  ;) 

She is so gorgeous!  I know if my mom were around she'd just gush over these pictures and tell Laurajane how beautiful she was.  These were moments my mom knew she would miss. 

Laurajane is so funny.  She's such a great dresser, and has her own fun style. (Some day I'll blog about her 16th birthday party I helped her do...)  She loves shopping at Goodwill and finds the best stuff to wear!  Adults usually comment on her clothing and wish they could shop out of Laurajane's closet.  Though, I'm the auntie that thinks some of her clothes are pretty weird because she wears some 80's fashions that I think should have stayed buried...  But, let's just say she's come a long way from the days she would pull her underwear up her crack (seriously when she was three, she gave herself wedgies - that's just how she wore her underwear) (embarrassed yet, lj?), and dress up like pioneers (her absolute favorite play time thing).  She loves to write and to look through baby names books.  She loves to plan and throw parties, which I love.  :) 

I still remember the days when she was little, and my sister and I would race off of the bus because we were so excited to see her!  I remember these days on our trampoline with her as if it were yesterday!!!

It's fun to see, now she makes the face I'm making at her in the picture on the right to my kids! 

Here we were one summer while I was home from college having a tea party with her and one of my college roommates - (hi April!!) 

Here she is on the right at my wedding. 

Here she is holding Trevan when he was a baby.  Though I'm pretty sure Jonah is her favorite baby on the planet.

I think she has a bright future ahead.  Maybe some day you'll read something she'll write... 

I love my Laurajane as if she were one of my own kids!  

Friday Family Feature

This is my beautiful niece, Laurajane.

I wish she were still this little...

She was born while I was in high school. My sister and her husband lived with us for a short amount of time while my brother in law did an internship for his degree. During that time I was so excited to get home everyday from school so I could play with Laurajane!

My earliest memory of Laurajane was when my sister and mom left me to babysit for a while when she was a little baby. Laurajane was a mommy's girl; did not take a bottle, did not take a pacifier, and after a little while became really upset to a point where I couldn't console her. I called my sister and mom and told them to "come home!" For the record, they took their sweet old time. I just remember standing by the big picture window in our living room holding little upset Laurajane, and waiting to see their car. I felt so bad for her, I started crying too. I was mad at my sister when she came home.

I love Laurajane as if she were my own child. I couldn't believe it when I found out that my sister had in her will for her kids to go to my oldest brother if she and my brother in law were to die. "What????" I exclaimed. "They should come to me or Marianne!" My sister said we were both still single when they made their will, but I'm not single anymore...

I can't believe my niece will be driving soon and dating soon (can't date until she's 16), it seems like we were just celebrating her second birthday yesterday...







It's so crazy to watch your nieces and nephews grow up, and worry about them. I keep telling Laurajane that boys are gross, but I don't think she believes me.

She is very talented, and I hope she knows she can do anything she wants to put her mind to. She has the most gorgeous, naturally curly hair, and she also got my family's genes (I did not get the short genes, though) and is super tiny for girls her age, but that makes her even more adorable. I love that she has her own sense of style, and wouldn't let me persuade her to get something I thought was totally cute. She totally wears leopard capri leggings underneath her shorts when she plays basketball, too funny.

Growing up, and I think still, after we have all been together as a family, my sister would ask Laurajane what her favorite part of the trip, or holiday had been, and Laurajane would always say, "Just everyone being all together." Isn't that so sweet?

When Laurajane was little I think my sister Marianne taught her the song, "I Believe I can fly," and Laurajane used to sing it ALL the time. It was so cute! I hope she still believes she can fly. Because she can... if she wants to.


Thanks Laurajane for being such a great helper while you were here!! Could you please come back, and could you please stop growing up?!!!!

Friday Family Feature

Just in case you were wondering what I would look like in fifty years...

Well, I'll probably have a different hair cut, but seriously, there I am fifty years from now.

Meet Treva, my grandma. Her name is pronounced Treevah. Trevan is named after her, we just added an 'n' to his name and his is pronounced differently, like Trevor, but with an 'an' at the end. I was pretty sure no one would name their kid after Grandma, but I wanted to because that is who I most look like in my family, and her name needed to be represented somewhere in her posterity. Though, she doesn't even like her name, and said I shouldn't use the name Trevan.

Growing up seeing this next picture, I always thought my Grandma was so beautiful.

I never felt really pretty, cute maybe, but not pretty. When people would tell me I looked like my grandma, I thought well maybe I am a little pretty if I look like she did.

When I was younger, I always thought grandma was so fashionable, because she had all these fancy high heel shoes that were a lot cooler than the ones my mom would wear. When I would go to her house I would try them all on, and feel so grown up and sassy.

My grandma also introduced me to soap operas when I was younger (my mother did not approve). Sometimes we would go stay with my grandparents for a little while at a time in the summer and my memories of these times include, wrapping up in one of my grandmas quilts she made watching soap operas, working in the garden, snapping beans, etc., picking cherries, shopping with her, camping with them, and riding in the truck with Grandpa.

I thought my grandparents were rich because when I went shopping with Grandma she would let me pick out stuff to buy. "Put it in the cart," she'd say. I think my grandparents are rich in a way, they live so foreign to the times today with only using cash, never having any debt, never owning a credit card, providing for themselves, I don't think many people live like that anymore. Talking about foreign to times today, when my Grandma gets a new car, she has them order her a car that has no power windows, no power locks, no nothing. She is so funny.

When I am around my family, it is inevitable that someone will end up calling me Treva. It is not always meant in a complimentary way, but it doesn't bug me. I like being like my grandma, quirks and all.

If you know me at all, you know I'm a little paranoid. Okay, a lot paranoid. It is an inherited trait passed down through the generations. It may have skipped my dad though, I can't really say.

Trevan's five generation picture.

Trevan is in my great grandmother's lap (she turned 99 in April), my grandma, dad, and me. Not the best photo of me, Trevan was almost three months old, so I still had a lot of baby weight.

My Granny Cole, Treva's mother, my great grandmother is a paranoid person, passed it on to her daughter, now I carry on the torch proudly, and may have passed it on to my son, even though I try to be really careful not to push my paranoia on to him. Every family needs a worry-wart, or two, or three. I think our family is covered.

Grandma has lots of great wives tales to tell too. You can expect to hear this from her when you have a new baby: "Don't stick your hands in cold water if you're nursing, because you'll get the 'weed' (mastitis), you will." Never yet have I got the "weed," and heavens knows I don't have the patience to wait until the water gets warm to wash my hands. But, my grandmother swears that is true. Well, she doesn't swear. We aren't supposed to swear. I have never heard her swear, she got mad at me once because I said 'darn it.' In her book, that is just a substitution, and not acceptable.

My grandparents are religious. Not the same religion as mine, but they live our religion better than a lot of "Mormons" live our religion. My grandparents help a lot of people. I can't say that to be sure, because they don't talk about how they help people, I just know they do. I know they give produce from their garden away freely to people, and have heard her concerned about people not having food over the holidays.

I have a lot of memories camping with my grandparents. My grandma made me pee in a coffee can if I had to use the bathroom late at night when we were camping instead of walking to the restrooms. I think that may be why I am scarred from using the woods for a bathroom.

Granny Cole, Grandma & Grandpa

I think we were pretty spoiled growing up. With both sets of our grandparents living a mile away from each other, we got to see them often. My dad was also an only child, so we had our grandparents to ourselves. I never really thought about it when I was younger, but thinking about it now, it was nice not having to share them with any cousins. I'm so selfish.

Grandma and her girls

My Grandma turned 80 last month. Seriously. Have you ever seen eighty candles on a birthday cake? Talk about feeling some heat.

My brother, Jeryl and sister, Marianne doing the honors.

Grandma started blowing on the candles right away, she was afraid something was going to catch on fire.

My Grandma is eighty years old and can work circles around people half her age or younger. No joke. She will make you feel lazy. I promise! They have a lot of huge gardens, and they can their food, and provide food for themselves, and really our whole family. They raise their own cows and pigs to give us great sausage and beef. Seriously, the best sausage you will ever, ever eat in your life. Seriously. You basically have to put oil in the pan to fry that sausage.

We always looked forward to breakfast at Grandma's house. She made the best scrambled eggs. No one can make scrambled eggs like my Grandma and my dad. My Grandma was a good cook. I would like to think of her as a Martha Stewart of her time and location. She grew up in the sticks of West Virginia, there was no Food Network Channel, there are no amazing restaurants where she lives, she never ate exotic foods (for example, she tried pistachios for the first time this past year and thought they seemed moldy), she didn't make gourmet foods, but she was a good cook. When someone discredits that, I want to punch them in the nose. Granted, she doesn't cook the same as when we were younger, she does what is easiest now. The day my Grandma stopped making home-made biscuits, part of me went into mourning. Have you ever heard of Formula L? Run in the opposite direction. They say it is good, no comparison.

Anyhow, my Grandma is a good cook, not just that her food tastes good, but she knows what combinations, amounts, substitutions, etc. turn out. You have a question about food, or what will happen if you mix certain ingredients, she can tell you. If you want to know how to can anything she can tell you. She doesn't have to use a cookbook or measuring utensils, she just knows, and she cooks what she knows. Had she been raised in a different environment, been able to watch the Food Network Channel, received any education in that area, she would have been another Martha Stewart. You can tell she enjoys cooking and baking. She made a feast for any holiday, or whenever we are together. I know if she had had been in a different place and had more knowledge of the different kinds of foods, she could have been pretty spectacular. When I found out she had enrolled herself in cake decorating classes a long time ago, I thought that was the coolest thing. She had that desire to learn something new and be creative. I think that's where I get my creative bug from, her and my dad.

She would often make us doll cakes for our birthday.

My Grandma could sew. She worked for the Maidenform factory. She would make us nightgowns and slips out of scraps from her job. She makes quilts, lots and lots of quilts. I think what my Grandma does without having learned from books or someone teaching her is pretty amazing. Just imagine what she could have done had she had any training in any of these areas is pretty great. She is quite talented, and I don't think she gets the credit she deserves for being so talented all on her own accord.

My grandma always wrote to us in college. I always enjoyed reading her letters, and enjoyed the money that was tucked in the envelope as well. There are a few words of wisdom I will always remember from my Grandma.

After John and I got married, I was able to truly see the bull in the china shop that I had married. That man spilt more milk in our living room floor than a two year old did. Seriously. We didn't have a table, it was a really small apartment, and instead of squeezing in at the bar, we usually just ate in the living room on the floor. He spilt a lot of milk. Well, milk stinks in your carpet after a while if you don't get it cleaned up really good, and our carpet stunk A LOT! It really, really bugged me. I was telling my Grandma about it on the phone, and she laughed, but then said, "You know what they say, don't cry over spilled milk."

The other time was when we lived in Maryland, and I was talking to her on the phone, and I was complaining about not having a lot of money and this was our conversation,

"Do you have food to eat?" She asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Can you pay your bills?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well, it sounds like you are pretty well off to me," she said.

She's so wise, my grandma.

I just love my Grandma's laugh. I love her expressions, I love it when she is serious about something, and she says, "you know that?" I love her "grandma hugs," which are similar to "Jeryl or Heather hugs." (If you aren't in my family, those are the kinds of hugs where you barely touch the person and pat them lightly on the back)

I'm lucky to have such a wonderful grandma. Feel free to call me Treva anytime. I'll accept that compliment. I love her guts.

Friday Family Feature

In honor of his birthday this week, today's Friday Family Feature is my husband, John.

He also goes by Johnny or Johnny-cake, and his other name is Honey, but I don't use it as much as I used to. He is also affectionately known as Nugget, Little Monkey, or Jimmy by a few of his brothers and his friend Chris.

I knew I was going to marry John on our first date. I really did. I can remember opening the door (he was late) and seeing his smiling face, and I knew.

(His holey, baggy clothes won me over I guess. Notice the thumb ring? He stopped wearing that before we got married, thank goodness.)

As we ate dinner that night, I really knew as I watched him dribble fajita juice down the front of his chin and onto his shirt, and it didn't phase me.

We had been hanging out for a month before we actually went on our first official date. I was comfortable with John basically from the day I met him, especially that same Sunday night when he and his roommate (always have to bring a wingman-John's theory) sat around our apartment telling their most embarrassing moments. It was love at first laugh.

The night of our first date, after dinner we went on a walk/hike with my roommate and John's roommate (Becky and Chris who had gone on their first date that night too, I think) up Bridal Veil falls (how fitting, we all ended up getting married the same weekend). We split up at the falls (but no kissey kissing for us) and just sat by the falls and talked. We talked about our families and how important they were to us and how wonderful our parents were. We talked about the things we wanted in life, etc. etc. That night confirmed for me that we had a lot of the same goals, and I knew we were headed somewhere together. (Plus, when I found out his family played Rook too, I knew it was meant to be.)

So, let me tell you a little about Johnny. He has beautiful blue eyes that most always look smiley. His laugh is contagious, and his smile is gorgeous with cute dimples. I've always loved his beefy biceps and calves too. John loves games, like, really loves them. They are like our third child. Technically speaking, I guess they would be considered our first child since we had those before kids. Honestly, the total cost of our games probably adds up to more than we had to pay for both of our children's births. But, that's a whole other post. John likes to play hard, but he works hard to provide for our family too. If it were up to John we would live outdoors and have company every night for dinner and play games afterwards.

John is a wonderful father. He comes home and takes over!! Sometimes he comes home and I hand over the children and say, "see ya!" and he never says anything! A mom needs her sanity breaks, and he doesn't complain that I take them. He's so wonderful! He takes care of bath time and bed time most of the time too. Johnny does the dishes and cleans the bathrooms in our house too. (That was an agreement we made before we got married. He said if I cooked, he would do the dishes; a deals a deal.) He is so helpful! He takes his turn with diapers and feeding the kids. He plays with them and takes them outside to play. Daddy tells longer bed time stories too. My kids are lucky, and I am definitely lucky!!

He is a great husband too. It's the little things (and all the big things in the previous paragraph) that remind me how wonderful he is. Sometimes when I get out of the shower my big, warm, and fuzzy bathrobe will be hanging there waiting for me, and I wasn't the one to hang it there. Isn't that the sweetest thing? Also, if I can't sleep in the middle of the night he lets me wake him up and will rub my back until I go back to sleep (or until he goes back to sleep). The best thing? When our babies wake up in the middle of the night, he gets them and brings them to me. (Don't worry, he falls back to sleep instantly, I am not so lucky) He also lets me put my cold feet under his leg when we watch TV. He supports me in my interests and hobbies, and doesn't complain about crafts taking over every surface of our house.

Our "mock engagement pictures" John is always silly.

Spring 2002, almost engaged

I always tell John, "You knew what I was when you married me, but he could tell me the same thing."

One of the things that drew me to John was how geniune he is. That part of him reminded me of my mom and my Grandpa. So friendly with everyone - no false pretenses. I loved that, still do. He is also silly like my mom was. I needed to have a silly husband, so he could appreciate my silliness too. His funny dressing reminded me of my dad, and weirdly enough that was important to me too. I knew a high maintenance man was not for me. (Although I dreamed after we got married he would turn into the preppy dresser I always hoped for. I have since given up on that dream. We have to choose our battles, and that one got dropped.) I love that he is such a sincere person, and kind to everyone. He is willing to help anyone in need.

I really could go on and on, but I need to save some ammo for his Friday Family Feature next year.

Like a lady he works with told me after I was introduced to her said, "John is one of the nicest people I have ever met, he is such a good person." (Honestly, I get that a lot.) I always say, "I know, that's why I married him."

How lucky I am that he loves little old me.

And, I love him too.

Friday Family Feature

Marianne is dynamite,

you better beware,

'cause she's

tick, tick, tick, tick,

BOOM! DYNAMITE! (clap, clap)

BOOM! DYNAMITE! (clap, clap)

Meet Marianne, my little sister, the youngest of five children.

Marianne and Me

(Pardon the quality of some of my pictures, my scanner wouldn't work, so I had to take pictures of pictures)

I know. Enjoy the laugh.

I am guessing I was in second, maybe third grade in that picture. My Grandma often got us matching Easter dresses. We usually got the same gifts for Christmas from her as well, but in different colors. (Except the year she gave me Power Ranger Soap when I was 16 years old. Marianne was lucky that year, I guess.)

Even though Marianne is two years my junior, everyone has always thought she was older than me. It bugged me growing up, but now I’m fine if someone thinks she is older (but I don't get that very often anymore).

Marianne and I actually didn't get along very well when we were younger. (oh the stories I could tell) I think the age difference made us a little more competitive, and I felt like she always had to do whatever I was doing. I also always wished I was as pretty as she was - she had all the boys after her. I wished I could tan as easy as her too. Fortunately, we grew up and grew closer.

(2001)

Marianne graduated from BYU-Hawaii only a few months after I graduated from college, remember how she is two years younger than me? (I didn't really dilly dally either) See? She totally had to do whatever I was doing. Just kidding.

Marianne is a personal trainer at an upscale gym. She also coordinates the fitness classes, does payroll, and rehab stuff, incase you were wondering. She's so smart, she solved my knee issues that I had since middle school that my Doctor couldn't even figure out. One of her favorite past times (besides shopping) is reading fitness magazines. Her car is usually full of them.

Marianne is the family beautician. She does our hair and makeup, and gives us fashion advice. She's so stylish. She has such fun clothes - even though they may just hang in her closet with the tags on them. She has a large wardrobe, and lots of cute shoes, but being a personal trainer, she can't really wear her sassy skirts and shoes to work.

Marianne is my shopping buddy (but no yard sales), and my booty-shakin' buddy. She always introduced me to good booty-shakin' music. We had lots of dance parties in our living room, and occassionally still do. We like to move it move it.

Marianne is a peppy, positive person. She is sweet and kind like our mom was. She cares about people, and wants what is best for them. She is also a peacemaker (except when she's driving). I admire her faith and her strength. She is such a good example to me. She is funny and silly, and a super aunty. The kids love her, even though now they may love her husband more... She is a good, and thoughtful wifey to her husband. She is a thoughtful daughter, and would help anyone if they needed her. She is stronger than she thinks she is, and I don't think she gives herself the credit she deserves. I love her and am so glad she is my sister. She is a beautiful person, inside and out.

Introducing the Friday Family Feature

My mom was a walking pep rally. She was everyone’s biggest fan; the captain of your own personal cheer squad. She genuinely wanted you to have the desires of your heart (only good things of course), and would pray you’d receive them. She would have no strings attached, no angles, and wasn't secretly hoping you would fail. If she knew you, even if she had only met you once, she was rooting for you.

She was my own personal cheerleader. I can still see her in the stands at my basketball and volleyball games, and track meets in high school. I can even hear her voice, and picture her as she yells, “Yaay!” Her cheer was very distinctive, and hard to describe. It's like, she's sitting on the edge of her bleacher, and she has kept all this energy bundled up, and all of a sudden it bursts out, almost like a yelp, “YAAAY!”

When I walked out of the locker room for warm ups before a game, I checked her normal spots to make sure she was there. I have always wondered why it mattered so much to me to see her or my dad there - would it have made me play any different or run any faster? I think knowing someone was there specifically for me, cheering me on, and wanting me to succeed was all I wanted.

I think one of the hardest things about losing my mom is losing my personal pep squad. When I had a bad day, who did I call? Mom. When being a mother was a bit overwhelming, who did I call? My mother. Though, I often felt guilty calling my mom to complain, when she had every right to be complaining about her pain, or cancer - but she didn't. She listened without judging, telling you she was sorry, and gave encouraging words. Even though you were on the phone with her, you could feel her arms around you hugging you as she told you, “You’re doing better than you think you are.”

Well, one thing I haven't done very well at is telling my family I love them and how good I think they are doing. I mean, I am definitely in their cheering section, but I need to be the one leading the cheers, starting the chants,

"Marianne is dynamite,

you better beware,

cause she's... tick, tick, tick, tick,

BOOM DYNAMITE (clap, clap),

BOOM DYNAMITE (clap, clap)!"

I am guilty of not telling the people I love how fabulous I think they are doing. I need to be a more complimentary person. I find myself thinking, “I love her hair, her shoes are so cute, she is so thoughtful, etc. etc.” Why don’t I say it out loud??? I think them, I just need to say them.

Tune in next Friday for my first Friday Family Feature. I am going to tell my family and the world (or my five readers) how wonderful I think they are!

Rah Rah!