Grandma is THE BOSS! ~by Rindi

Grandma...the boss of cakes!

We had such a fun visit with my in-laws. Grandma put on an all-day activity one of the days: "Cake Boss"! And boy, did she know how to make it fun. She had the kids planning, shopping, baking, designing and decorating for about eight hours! She even did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. I was worn out just from watching her, but also filled with gratitude for such a wonderful mother-in-law and grandmother for my children.

Julia and Emma made these adorable piggy cupcakes.

Emma hard at work on her soccer ball cake.

Austin was thrilled beyond compare with his golf cake (aka rice krispie treat putting green).
Miles made an awesome shark cake. He is SO into ocean animals. This was the perfect cake for him!

Julia made such a darling monkey cake!

The row of finished products. Wow!

Thanks, Grandma! I think we have been on a sugar high ever since, but we will never forget this fun, fun day!

Practically Perfect in Every Way... by Rindi

I've been thinking a lot about perfection lately. After all, that's what we are all striving toward, isn't it? But it's harder than it sounds! Sometimes I get discouraged and focus on the imperfections in my life instead of recognizing the things that are going well. But by definition alone, if there are ANY imperfections in my life, then there is NO perfection, right?

A "perfect" moment on the golf course!

Sometimes I get glimpses of perfection, though. It seems like half the time things are going perfectly well. The house is clean or the yard is freshly groomed and looking great. Or I've fixed a nice dinner and the kids are all happily eating it, or Greg and I are enjoying date night--hand-in-hand, so in love. Or we finished a nice family prayer and read our scriptures. Or bedtime is going smoothly and I'm happily sitting in the hall reading heart-warming stories to the kids from the "Friend" magazine. Or we are on time to church and looking all spiffy. Or the kids are being cute, or smart, or talented, or funny, or happy, or whatever. Or I am being successful at exercising, or reading my scriptures, or saying my prayers. Or Greg and I are super in love, and so happy to be together. Or the kids are nicely doing their chores, or practicing their piano. Or we are riding our bikes together as a family in the evening and the weather is so beautiful that I'm just sure that I have the most perfect little family in all the world and that there couldn't be a happier woman alive than me.



But....



What about the other half of the time?



Like when the kids won't stop bugging each other, and someone is always crying. Or the dirty laundry is so deep on the laundry room floor that it stinks. Or when those loving gazes are icy stares, and the irritation and frustration of the moment becomes overwhelming. Or when I serve cereal for dinner...again...or better yet, we barely have dinner. Or when nobody will help, and the kids are lucky to get into bed alive, let alone a heart-warming bedtime story. Or when we forget to say family prayer, and I realize that I can't remember our last scripture-reading session. Or when the lawn is overdue for a mow, and the back patio is covered in chalk, and the toys are strewn all over the grass. Or when the house is a mess, or the fridge is empty, or the dad is too tired to play with the kids after work. Or when we are late for church and I've yelled the whole way there in the car. Or when my prayers have gotten rushed and repetitive, and I haven't exercised in weeks. What about those moments when I am just tempted to run away because I must be the most miserable woman in the world?


See, even during our good moments, I can recognize that we aren't perfect. Nobody is. But the problem I have is wondering if my bad moments are worse than everyone else's. Do most people stay on the "perfect" half of things more than I do? Inevitably, on a bad day, I will read someone's blog about the darling activity they did with their children, or the marathon that they just completed, or the romantic getaway they had with their husband and how they are absolutely best friends. And their pictures all look adorable--of their kids, their husbands, and their life. And I think, Wow. I am more imperfect than everyone else. Luckily, I always regroup and head back towards the positive side of things, but somehow the imperfections keep cropping up-- the impatience, the messes, the busyness of life. I guess I am a bit of a perfectionist. I always knew that life would have its moments. But I always thought that it would be "practically" perfect in "almost" every way, minus a few mishaps every now and then! I didn't know I'd be batting .500. I think I'm missing the mark half of the time.


Still, I love my life (at least half the time! Ha!). The "perfect" moments are what make life worth living. But I know I need to do better. And I keep holding out, thinking that when my kids aren't so little...or when I don't have a baby...or when I'm not so pregnant...I'll be a little closer to the "perfect" woman that I dream about in my mind. You know the one--the woman who has it all together all the time? I want to be her someday. But I'm definitely not her today. And maybe that's okay. Maybe that's normal and maybe it's not. Maybe other families are batting more like .800 or .900, but I'm going to keep standing at that plate and swinging away. The strikeouts are painful, but the homeruns are heavenly. And for now, that is about as perfect as I'm going to get.
-Rindi :)

Our Memorable Memorial Day!

My little sports fanatic, Austin! What a cutie pie!

We were so excited to have my brother, J.B., and his family come visit St. George for Memorial Day Weekend. That meant that four siblings would be together!! Just as expected, we had a great time. Sunee hosted a family dinner on Sunday, which resembled a Thanksgiving Dinner in every way! It was delicious and so fun. Then Greg and I had everyone over for a BBQ on Memorial Day. We love to have parties at our house. The weather was so beautiful (sorry to all Northern Utahns...maybe your spring will come...maybe...), the food was so good, but the company was better.

On Thursday, we did a little yard work to spruce things up a bit. Okay, I did a little yard work; Greg did a LOT. He replanted and replaced twenty plant around our yard. Let me just tell you, that was hard work! Great job, honey. Lookin' good!

By the way, doesn't our waterfall look awesome? Sunee's husband, Kyle, built it for us. We love it!

While we were at the nursery buying all of the new plants, I spotted a new shipment of Bougainvilleas. I saw these beauties, gasped, and told Greg that under no circumstances could I leave the nursery without one of them. So, he bought me two. Oh, I love that guy! And I'm enjoying every moment of the Bougainvilleas!

While we planted, the kids played in the water. Austin was so darling running through the hose. I love this picture of him with Emma.

Everything looked awesome for Monday's BBQ. And the best part is that I felt well enough to enjoy myself. Here's our food table (Greg was slaving away at the grill making the BEST hamburgers ever!).

This is a shot of just a few of the sixteen kids running around my yard all day. They had so much fun with their cousins.

This next picture is of Stalee, J.B., Rindi (me), and Sunee. Oh, how I love these people. I am so blessed and so lucky to have such a wonderful brother and amazing sisters! (We missed you Katie, Joni, Judi, and Millie...and of course, Mom and Dad!).

After lunch and lots of playing, the kids gathered around to watch Gnomeo & Juliet. That gave the adults some relaxing quiet time to laugh and talk on the back patio. It was a great, great day!

What a memorable Memorial Day! Don't you just love getting together with family? It's the best!

Hope you had a great day too!

Love, Rindi

P.S. We're missing you already, J.B. and family.

Sick, Sick, Sick

I told my mom that I wasn't going to post anything today. I'm too sick. But then she told me that I should just post a message that says, "I'm sick!" So that's exactly what I'm doing. No amazing insight, no wonderful essay, no uplifting message today. Just a few words to say I'm sick. I don't know why pregnancy is so difficult for me, but it is!! I'm fifteen weeks and I figure that I have ten really bad weeks left. I'm super discouraged right now and just trying to breath through each moment. But all this is sooooo boring to blog about.... Who wants to read about being sick??


Today is the last day of school. Here is a fun shot of my girls on crazy hair day.

Aren't they cute? They were each soooo worth nine months of misery. And I can't wait to meet my next little baby. It will be so worth it...if I can just live until then...

-Rindi

My Love of Salt

I think my favorite food is salt. I'm just not sure that salt qualifies as a food! I'll probably die a salt-related death someday, but as Scarlett O'Hara says, "I'll think about that tomorrow."

My mom has always grown this fabulous garden. It was full of the famous Hooper tomatoes!! I love picking a nice ripe one, warmed by the sun and ready to eat. I love to eat homegrown tomatoes. I have to have my salt shaker in hand to be ready to lightly (or heavily!) salt each and every juicy bite. Mmmmm. That is a little bit of heaven! My parents also have these great apple trees that grow awesome green apples. My mouth is watering right now just thinking about the sour, yummy goodness of those apples. When we sit around the backyard eating apples right off the tree, every person needs their own salt shaker because once again, each bite must be salted. We also had rhubarb plants. Rhubarb is so sour that it is pretty much inedible without loads of salt. But with salt....mmmmm....rhubarb is so yummy. My dad used to get frustrated because we'd leave all the salt shakers outside when we were done snacking from the garden. We were always losing the shakers. So one day my mom went out and bought like ten salt shakers and we've never had a problem since. There is always one ready to go in the cupboard. (And you might find one laying in the grass under the apple tree!)

I love to salt my vegetables, my soups and stews, my Panzanella (my favorite recipe ever!), the chips and salsa at a Mexican restaurant, and occasionally I'll just dip my finger in the salt! My mother-in-law introduced me to Costco's Sea Salt. I LOVE it. Greg asked me how it could taste any better, after all--it's still just salt. I don't know why I think it is better...maybe because I can grind out more? Maybe because it is bigger chunks, so MORE salt? I don't know. One time we went to this really swanky restaurant in Las Vegas. We had a gift certificate, but still the steaks were like fifty dollars apiece! But let me tell you about the salt. They brought out this little rectangular tray with three different types of salt on it. The waiter very professionally described the salts for us, telling us their origins and their best uses. They were different colors. One was a Hawaiian black rock salt, for example. One was kind of a pinkish hue. But, WOW! I loved the salts at that restaurant. Who knew that salt could be so good? Who knew there was more to life than Morton's Iodized Salt?

A little while after Greg's grandmother passed away, we went to visit my in-laws in California. My mother-in-law laid out a few of the grandmother's possessions and let us each choose a few things to keep for our own. One brief glance over the trays, the silver platters, the gravy pourers, the silver dinnerware, and I knew EXACTLY what I wanted first dibbs on: her salt shaker! It is big; it pours a lot of salt out of the top; and it has a handle for keeping one's hand on at all times (which makes salting every bite more ergonomically pleasing).
Isn't it cute? I love my salt shaker. I will cherish that possesion for as long as I can. And just like anything that is near and dear to me, I will keep it close--like right next to my plate, and NO! I won't pass the salt. :)

(Maybe tomorrow....)

May your day be full of flavor!

Love, Rindi

Life with Lots of Sisters

Hi! It's Rindi again.

My favorite slippers on a Sunday Afternoon!




I love telling people that there are seven girls in our family. After the usual, “Wow!” they always say, “Any brothers?” to which I say, “Yes, one…he’s the oldest!” It seems like I’ve had that same conversation a million times. And people always wonder what it was like having so many sisters in the same house. I’ve been reminiscing about that lately. If you have a lot of sisters then you’ll totally understand, but even if you only have one, it is the same…just really magnified!

My dad grew up with no sisters. I’m pretty sure he was totally unprepared for what was in store for him! My husband, Greg, also grew up in a male-dominated world. There are four boys and one girl in his family. I’m always interested in their stories, because I can’t really imagine having lots of brothers! But let me tell you a few things about having lots of sisters:

We used a TON of toilet paper at our house! I think every time I went in to the bathroom, I had to get a new roll. I’m serious…we went through multiple rolls a day. Our poor septic tank never was quite the same after all of us! My dad was forever begging us not to use so much toilet paper! Also, when a lot of women live in the same house together, their hormones seem to align! That made for a very bad week every month!! The hormone level in the air that week must have been almost palpable! Around the time of my wedding, I asked my dad to go pick up a dryer that Greg’s older brother was giving us for our new apartment. I think they were getting a new dryer and no longer needed the old one. So one day, amidst some errands, my dad drove the 45 minutes in his truck to my new brother-in-law’s house to pick up the dryer. My dad has just gone to Sam’s Club, but there was still room for the dryer. My brother-in-law, John, was helping my dad load up the dryer when he noticed the Sam’s Club purchases in the back of the truck. I don’t remember exactly what he said to my dad, but he couldn’t hide his shock at the cases of toilet paper and the CASES of feminine hygiene products! (Remember, my brother-in-law grew up with one sister!) He said something like, “What in the WORLD??” My dad just smiled and said, “Listen, when you have a house full of girls, you’ll understand what I have to go through!” I think we were the only family with a supply of feminine products on the shelf in the garage next to the food storage. My dad’s worst nightmare was a natural disaster with multiple women experiencing “the time of the month” and no supplies! Bless my dear dad for swallowing his manly pride and always keeping us stocked with the necessities!

When I was growing up, cell phones were not in the picture, but that didn’t stop us all from loving to talk on the phone. To keep the peace, we were all assigned phone shifts. I think I got the phone from 7:00-8:00 on Sunday nights. It was sad if no one called, but usually we all took our time to the minute. The pounding on my door would let me know that my time was up! We were fiercely protective of our time on the phone!!

Just imagine all of the showers that took place every day! We all used two towels—one for our hair and one for our body. My mom would wash all of those towels every day! It wasn’t until I got older that I realized that other people use their towels more than once before washing them. When I asked my mother, laundress extraordinaire, about why she didn’t make us hang up our towels, she said, “I couldn’t think of anywhere to hang up sixteen towels every day…it was just easier to wash and fold them!” Wow! That was a lot of work. I also remember the serious amounts of shampoo and conditioner that we went through. But the hardest part of showering was trying to not run out of hot water. It was a major rule that you had to turn off the shower while you shaved your legs! Try to shave in a cold bathroom with the shower off and hope that you don’t get goose bumps! It was tough, but heads would roll if you left the water on. We also had to very precisely schedule our showering and if you slept in and missed your five minute allotment: tough luck! Now, I love to soak in a long, hot shower! I have plenty of hot water, and I shave with the water on!

There are many things that I miss, however! I miss all of the clothes sharing. I got to choose from four or five closets every day! I had a huge wardrobe! Plus, my older sisters always had super cute clothes and they always let me borrow them. They would help me with my hair and share their makeup too. After I was married and I went home to visit, I still borrowed clothes, but this time it was my younger, stylish sisters who had all of the cute stuff. Even now, we still share clothes: baby clothes and maternity clothes! Ha! But I still appreciate the large supply that we pass around.

When we went on vacation, people always asked us if we were a volleyball team or something. Five of us looked grown up at the same time. Eventually the oldest ones started getting married and moving on, but then the younger ones moved in to fill the spots! For a long while, we were a house full of teenage girls. I miss those days. I miss having instant friends. There was always someone to work with, play with, go to a party with, go to the pool with, help with homework, give advice, or just laugh and talk with. Even though we sometimes got on each others’ nerves, we definitely didn’t have catfights and clawing fingernails. We loved each other and got along pretty well. I owe that to the way my mom intervened and taught us to be nice to each other…and it certainly must have been a large task! Even now I shudder to think of that many hormonal women living under one roof! :) Thank heavens for sisters!!

My dad also had to suffer through a long line of young men coming to ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage. I think he was getting bored of the whole charade by the end of it. To spice things up, he started polishing his guns, wielding his sword, and anything else he could think of to break up the monotony! He was known to answer the door for our dates like that as well. It must have been hard for him to send so many daughters out the door, but somehow we all got married, and all of our husbands survived my dad’s guns!

And that’s what it was like around our house. Very, very interesting.
Have a great day,
Rindi

A Tiny Heartbeat

Last week, while I was reclining on the crinkly paper of my doctor's exam table, a million thoughts ran through my mind. But the moment I heard that familiar whoosh, swoosh, whoosh, swoosh beating rapidly from the little monitor, I had only one thought: another little precious baby! Tears immediately sprang to my eyes, probably surprising the doctor and the nurse as well as surprising me! I started to apologize for the tears, saying, "I'm sorry, it's just been so hard...and this makes it all worth it." Then the tears started flowing a little more freely. I'll blame it on the hormones, but I never tire of hearing that little heartbeat pounding so furiously from something so tiny inside of me. Part of me can't believe that I am doing this again--for the fifth time! But another part of me is ecstatic that I am making my way closer to that most rewarding day in the hospital when I'll meet, for the fifth time, another precious spirit...straight from heaven.

Just after delivering my fourth baby!

Pregnancy is really hard for me. I'll just say that. I've already been so sick for so long and I've got a long way to go! But even though I've got heartburn and nausea and I'm throwing up half the time and I've got a house and four kids to take care of and I'm tired and sick, thank heavens for that tiny heartbeat which, for me, makes it all worth it!

But seriously, five kids?? That's a lot, right? :)


Love, Rindi

Odds and Ends

Hi! It's Rindi, again. I am at a loss (for once!) about what to say. So here are some odds and ends about my day yesterday:

Austin (just barely 2 years old): I pushed him in my deluxe double stroller to the park. It was a beautiful day that just screamed for some time outside. He mostly wanted to swing. The whole time. I don't mind swinging my kids, but he wanted me to grab the swing each time, pull it back and let it go! That would make him squeal with delight. It was harder than just pushing; it was like weight-lifting all morning. Somehow, all of that swinging wore him out, because he took a lovely three-hour nap. Then he watered all of my plants on the back patio. He does that job any time I'll let him. Everything ends up pretty wet, including him, but he thinks he is doing something great. And I don't have to worry about watering! He learned how to open the back gate and get out, so now he is no longer safe in the back yard. He also learned how to turn on the neighbor's water! Keeping up with him is a full time job! I love Austin!

Miles (my 5-year-old preschooler): Miles chose to walk all of the way to the park and then played really hard. He got very tired and wanted to go home before Austin was done swinging! Miles said, "I've had ENOUGH fresh air!" Miles is a bit of a home-body. So, I'm always telling him that he needs to get out and get fresh air. Apparently, you can have too much of a good thing. Miles has gotten really interested in Ocean Animals. He's watched lots of documentaries about the ocean and has a couple of sets of ocean animals (a new one from our recent trip to Sea World). I was napping on my bed yesterday, while he sat next to me watching Disney's Oceans. At one point, I opened my eyes and got so fascinated, that we both ended up watching it. He and I have been talking about sharks, whales, and other animals endlessly. To get him to eat his food (Miles is very picky!), I've been making up stories about a Beluga Whale in the ocean. At each intense moment in the story, I stop and tell him he has to take another bite before I go on. He'll be hanging on my every word, and then I'll stop and he'll have to take another bite, and he DOES! We've gotten through many a dinners lately, including last night, with the help of the adventures of the Beluga Whale! I love Miles!

Julia (my seven-year-old first grader): She has a lot of reading homework every day. Yesterday, she was reading about the history of Chicago and she called to me in the other room, "Mom, were you alive in 1779?" I burst out laughing. For some reason, the seriousness of her voice made me laugh so hard! I quickly cleared that up for her! Julia loves to ride her bike or scooter to and from school. We live almost a mile away, so it is a good ride home. She always comes in sweaty and red-faced and drops everything to the floor and then flops herself down to rest. Julia is a happy soul! Monday was crazy hair day and she LOVED the way I did her hair. She couldn't stop posing in front of the mirror, absolutely delighted with herself. Yesterday, she did bubbles in the backyard for the boys and I loved hearing the laughter through the windows. Every night at bedtime, once everyone is tucked in, she asks me to rub her back. I usually say the same thing to her that I say to all of the other many bedtime requests, "Not tonight, Jules." Then she nicely goes to sleep. Thank heavens! She used to be a nightmare to get to sleep. She is so sweet, though, that maybe tonight I'll rub her little back for a minute. I love Julia!

Emma (my nine-year-old): She also had a heavy head of hair piled up top for crazy hair day. She looked so cute. When Emma gets home from school, she is the first to run in the door and immediately yells, "Mom?" She's never too hot or tired to make sure I'm waiting for them. :) Yesterday, I took them all to the grocery store and Emma was thrilled. She loves to shop! Lately, she thinks I am so cute (pretty crazy, huh?). I got a new dress on the Sisters' Weekend Shopping Spree, and when I came home, Emma couldn't stop complimenting me. That night as I kissed her in bed (she'll never let a night go by without getting her goodnight kiss!) she said, "Oh, Mom. By the way, your dress was so cute today!" Thank goodness our own children think highly of us. It is fun to have Emma growing up! Yesterday, we practiced volleyball with the new ball I got her. She accidentally hit it over the wall into the neighbor's yard. We had to go get it, but she is getting very good at volleyball. She loves chocolate, or any treat for that matter. So, because she wanted a chocolate ice cream bar last night, we all gave in and had one too! Emma is super competitive in sports. She ran some awesome races in her school track meet, and now she can't wait to get her ribbons in the assembly. I love Emma!

Well, enough about my kids. Have a lovely day,

Rindi

Like Little Children

These pictures are of my own sweet children being "child-like" in San Diego, California!

About eighteen months ago, I was called by our Stake President to serve in the Special Needs Mutual as a Young Women’s Advisor. Not only was I previously unaware that such a calling even existed, but I think it is safe to say that I was quite nervous and even a little afraid of what this new calling would be like. Well, it only took one Thursday night with the special needs young women to realize that my life would be richly blessed by this experience and that I had absolutely nothing to be nervous about. In fact, I have felt right at home, realizing that my experiences as a mother have been the perfect preparation for working with my class. I recognize the same child-like joy and eagerness in their eyes when I show them a picture of the Savior that I see at home with my young children.

I am reminded of the numerous times in the scriptures we are admonished to become as a little child. In Third Nephi, Chapter 11, verse 37, the Savior says: “And again I say unto you, ye must repent, and become as a little child, and be baptized in my name, or ye can in nowise receive these things. And to add special emphasis, He repeats his commandment again, almost word for word in the next verse: 38 … ye must repent, and be baptized in my name, and become as a little achild, or ye can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God.

I have often thought about what it is to become like a little child and I think there is so much we can learn from watching these 'special needs" children of God. Here are a few examples that I have seen:

First: If they love you, they tell you…and they tell you often, never wondering or worrying about what you might think of them in return. It takes a moment to get used to the fact that they want to hug or hold hands or kiss your cheek when they are happy. It is difficult to feel lonely or left out when someone is always linking arms with you, or grabbing your hand to walk to class, or sitting so close to you that your arms are pressed together. When Santa Claus visited our class at Christmas time, one of the girls in my class was terribly frightened; she jumped toward me and buried her head into my shoulder. I hugged her tightly until she calmed down. There have been times in my life when I have been new to a ward and felt shy and lonely as I entered a class for the first time. Can you imagine how different I would feel if someone sat right next to me and put her arm around me? Or if she grabbed my hand warmly and asked if we could be friends? Or how about if I was feeling scared about something in my life and I knew that I could turn to the sister sitting next to me and she would embrace me until I felt better? Because that’s what these special needs participants would do. They don’t love you for what you wear or how you look or how successful you seem. They just love you. They are unreserved in sharing love and friendship…and I think that is what the Savior would do as well.

Second: They smile and are happy about the simple things in life. They aren’t bogged down with their fears for the future or regrets from the past. They are living in the here and now, enjoying life to the fullest. When we visited a farm, many of them climbed on a sort-of-homemade, makeshift merry-go-round of sorts and with huge smiles, they rode around and around, never minding that they were clearly too big for the ride. A part of me wanted to jump on and try it too! Every week, I watch as these special friends arrive early, with smiles on their faces, ready to enjoy whatever it is that we have planned. Think of how different our lives would be if we awoke every day, happy and excited for whatever the day might bring. We all have so many blessings and so many reasons to be grateful. That positive outlook, that fresh start to every new day is a great attribute and one that would bless our lives if we could develop it.

Third: Their testimonies are sweet and simple. They know they are special. They know about their Savior. Most little children seem to believe these simple truths as well—displaying pure, unwavering faith. Each of my own children could tell you today that they are children of God and that they are special. I know that they don’t doubt it. They just know. Perhaps that is what the Savior meant when he told us to become as a little child—to have the faith of a little child, to love as a little child, and to enjoy the journey of life, no matter what the difficulties might be. Each day is a gift.

One evening we were practicing the song “I am a child of God.” My sweet friend Melanie, one of the young women in my class, was snuggled up close to me as we sang. She loves to sing and knows many of the hymns that we sing. As loudly as she could she was following along, verse by verse, singing words that might seem unclear to anyone who is unfamiliar with the song, but were perfectly clear to me. It felt like together we were singing our hearts out. Just as we started the third verse, I was reflecting on the sweet spirit she was bringing to the room, when I felt Melanie’s arm next to mine break out in goose bumps. I smiled to myself, wondering if she was feeling the spirit as strongly as I was. Finally, the song ended and the music leader decided to have us practice it again, much to Melanie’s delight. So, once again we started, singing our hearts out. Just as we got to the third verse, in the exact same spot, I felt Melanie’s arm break out again in goose bumps. It seemed as though something about that verse was particularly special to her. The spirit was strong as we sang the words: “I am a child of God. Rich blessings are in store, if I but learn to do His will, I’ll live with Him once more.” That night, for me, those words took on new meaning. We’ll live with Him once more. I know that we are all children of God, and that we all have the opportunity to live with Him once more. I have felt the Spirit confirming that truth to me.

I am thankful for the opportunity that I have had to be around such special people. I’m not sure if my young women have gained anything from me, but I have certainly gained a lot from them. They are facing life with a different set of challenges than most of us. Their challenges aren’t easy, but they give it their all. If they can smile and be happy notwithstanding their difficulties, then hopefully, so can I and so can each of us! After all, we all have special needs. I know that my Savior lives. I know that our Father in Heaven loves us and wants us to live with Him once more.

Have a Happy Day!!

-Rindi

Can You Read My Handwriting???

I think my little kids look so cute sitting here together!

I'm On Strike!

Hi! It's Rindi again!

Grocery shopping is definitely a necessary evil in my life. I both love it and hate it. All alone, I find it a relaxing, enjoyable stroll through a delectable wonderland, but with my children along, I find it nothing short of a Chinese torture chamber. A few years ago, when I had two little girls and a baby boy, I came up with a great solution to my grocery shopping woes.

“I’m not going to the grocery store ever again,” I announced one night during dinner. My husband, Greg, paused mid-bite to stare at me in amazement.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“I mean,” and I repeated it a bit slower for emphasis, “I’m not going to the grocery store ever again.” The idea was starting to sound better to me every time I said it. “It’ll work wonders for our budget,” I added happily. (Don’t get me started about our budget!) Greg seemed mildly amused but totally unconvinced.

A few days later (Day 2 with no milk and the food supply dwindling), Greg stood in the kitchen holding his box of Cheerios. “Are you really not going to the grocery store again?” Now, I had his attention. I was cracking the last two eggs from the carton for Greg’s meager breakfast as I said, “Yep, I am on a grocery store strike.”

“Rindi,” he started complaining, “come on! It can’t be that bad.”

“Yes, it can!” I assured him. I was thinking about the last time when a whole carton of cottage cheese had dropped from the cart while I was checking out. It had splattered all over my shoes, my pants, the floor, the cart, and the magazine racks. I had Miles on my hip, and, of course, he was fussing by this point. Julia and Emma were begging me for candy, and I was standing in a huge mess. “No candy!” I had hissed at the girls. Julia started to cry very loudly, and I couldn’t seem to get that burdened cart to move an inch forward! Maybe if I kicked it… Finally the cashier handed me a wad of paper towels and asked very politely if I would like to go get another carton of cottage cheese. Exasperated, I told her I’d just forget about the cottage cheese this time. She started to insist that she would wait if I wanted to go grab it. I wanted to say, ‘Look lady, with what I’ve just been through here today that dairy aisle seems a few nautical miles away and I wouldn’t dare drag my children back there for a silly carton of cottage cheese. Forget it!’ She wouldn’t have heard me even if I would have said that because Julia was wailing even louder. Just then a nice bagger offered to fetch the cottage cheese for me. I smiled and mouthed “thank you” over the sobs, and then understandably didn’t say a word when he brought me back a carton of regular cottage cheese instead of the low-fat kind I had originally picked. If I’m going to blow our budget, I reasoned while feeling more discouraged with each high-priced ding of the scanner, I might as well blow our diet too.

A couple of days later (Day 4 with no milk and almost no food), I could no longer creatively come up with anything for us to eat. I decided to change my grocery-shopping strategy: the entire time while in the store I would repeat the words ‘we don’t need that…we don’t need that’ over and over. Hopefully, that would help me buy less, spend less, and okay, while we are at it, eat less. But since I was shopping on a hungry stomach (remember…Day 4…no milk), I kept thinking, well, we actually do need that. Plus, it was hard to concentrate while repeating those words. Half-way through the first aisle, I abandoned my well-thought-out strategy. The trip resulted in the same overstocked cart, the same candy-hungry children, and the same frazzled mother. I started to hope they wouldn’t ban us from the store.

In an effort to ease my tension, Greg offered to go with me to the store. Two carts are better than one, right? We completely blew our budget, but it was a pleasant family experience, I reflected later at home while unloading the bags. By the way, where did we get these cookies and donuts?

So, taking Greg with me didn’t exactly solve all of my problems. Besides, I felt extremely guilty dragging the good doctor around the store. That is the constant plight of a stay-at-home mom, I suppose. I usually need help (mental more than physical as Greg is quick to point out), but does a guy really need to spend all day long at work only to go straight from the clinic to the grocery store?

Like any good martyr, I sighed loudly and told my family I would resume my regular grocery shopping duties. “But don’t think I like it!” And I stamped my foot for emphasis. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my brain, I realized that by giving up on the grocery store strike, my family wouldn’t bat an eyelash at the laundry-room standoff I was currently concocting.

"C'mon, Mom! We need food! Some of us need to maintain our weight!"

Everyone knows that “attitude is everything.” So, begrudgingly admitting that fact, I finally decided that my attitude about the grocery store was all wrong. I needed to embrace the grocery store as my means to nourish my loved ones. Of course, I truly am grateful that we never go hungry (except that once when I got a hare-brained idea and went on a grocery store strike). The convenience and abundance of our grocery stores are beyond anything else on earth.

So with these warm thoughts in mind, I ventured out to the store yet again. I grabbed one of the jumbo carts with the blue “kiddie” seats trailing behind the actual cart. My kids love those carts. I used to think they were great too, until a well-meaning fellow shopper said to me as she passed by, “I could never push one of those things.” I was left wondering why she could never push one. Did she think they were too heavy? Too tacky? Too big? Or did she simply think I was crazy for bringing three children to the grocery store? Hmmm…I guess I’ll never know. Anyway, just to show how much my attitude had changed, I bought ice cream cones to entertain the kids while I shopped. Note to self: Never buy ice cream cones to entertain the kids while I shop. My spirits were dropping fast as I mopped up slobbery ice cream from their faces. I ended up buying a ton of groceries in hopes that I would never have to go back. That is not a very successful plan, I know. By the end, I was trying to drag two carts full of food. I was tempted to search for “Mrs. I-could-never-push-one-of-those-things” just to see what she thought of me now. Emma and Julia were running and playing through the fruits and vegetables, and Miles had just HAD it. He didn't want to ride, and he didn't want me to hold him. He just wanted to run around and destroy things. I held him football style in one arm while he was screaming and squirming. With only one free arm and two full carts, I was failing fast. I made Emma try to push one cart, but she couldn't exactly see over it. I had to help guide it and she kept running into things, mostly me. Then, when I finally maneuvered to the checkout stand, I had a huge amount to load onto the counter and my arm was on fire from holding Miles. Somehow, Emma, Julia and I loaded it all on to the conveyor belt of doom. As if I wasn't stressed out enough, the total price was enormous, and I felt suddenly sick. At this point Julia announced that she needed to go to the bathroom. I hurried to pay and dragged my load to nearest restroom only to discover it was closed for cleaning. The sign very nicely read, “Please use the bathroom at the back of the store.” Yeah, right! There was no way I could get to the back of the store if my life depended on it. I left Emma guarding the carts, took Julia's hand, (Miles was still in the football hold, and I suppose I had forgotten completely about him), and walked very confidently into the bathroom. The cleaning lady just stepped aside...smart lady! Julia went potty on the toilet, at least that was successful, and Emma stayed out alone with the carts (also a success). Then we had to turn around the entire caravan, which caused a slight traffic jam at the front of the store, but we finally made it to the automatic doors. Thank goodness for automatic doors! After depositing all three kids and all of the groceries into our minivan, I returned the two (yes, two!) carts, got in the van and had the urge to just cry. Somehow I held it together, because I knew the task at home of getting everything carried in and put away would be equally challenging. I needed to reserve my strength. In the end, the whole ordeal lasted about 3 1/2 hours.

That night over dinner (incidentally, I do love to cook and that requires groceries) I said to my husband, “I’m not going to the grocery store ever again.”

I thought I saw an almost imperceptible smile cross his lips.

But as I looked at the pleased faces surrounding our dinner table that evening, I knew that I would somehow find the strength to continue shopping week after week. And the good news is, I have shopped, week after week, for many years now and I'm alive to tell about it. Like my mom says, "Life is hard...and then you die!" So if you are like me, make a good list, flex those biceps to hold the baby, take a deep breath and hurry to the store. And may the best woman survive...(because, let's face it, we really have no other choice!).

Oh, The Places You'll Go!

At this point in my life, I've already called quite a few different places home. I never would've guessed that my path would venture back East! In fact, as a youngster I vowed never to leave the great state of Utah. In high school, I filled out a questionnaire for one of my classes about my future. I recently came across that long-forgotten sheet of paper. Among other things it asked if I could see myself living out-of-state. I replied: Never. It also asked where I wanted to settle. I replied: Bountiful, Utah.
Funny, I know. But my aunt lives there and it seemed really nice! (As an interesting side note--Greg and I lived in Bountiful for one year while he completed his intern year at LDS Hospital. Check that dream off the old bucket list! Been there, done that! And I really DID enjoy Bountiful.) How sad it would have been to miss out on all of the adventures I've had living in different, far-off places! I'm so glad to finally call Utah home again, but I absolutely treasure the experiences I've had in so many different places called home. I recently heard a quote that said something like this, If we turn our life over to our Saviour, it's not that we lose our own life or our own individuality, it's just that He makes our life into something so much better than we could make it on our own. I'm sure I didn't say it as well as the actual quote, but I love that thought. Thank heavens that I'm not in charge of my own life! My short-sighted plans will never be as good as what my Father in Heaven, with eternity in mind, has planned for me.

One thing that has always kept me going is the saying, "Bloom where you are planted!" I believe so much in that saying. For me, I didn't get to choose the cities we lived in. We relied on acceptances and medical matches to dictate our moves. But even in seemingly undesirable locations, if we really tried hard, we would bloom and find lots and lots of happiness. That is true not just for homes and cities, but also for circumstances and situations as well. We just need to do our very best to bloom where we have been planted....

Years ago, when we were planning for our move back East for Greg's residency, I did most of my house shopping on the internet. I was very, very excited to be shopping for our first house! No more apartments without heat, or neighbors who smoked, or upstairs/downstairs neighbors at all! The house buying process didn't exactly turn out like I had planned, but then I'm not exactly in charge of things either, right?

Here are my thoughts about buying and owning our first home. I wrote this a few years ago...in lovely Pennsylvania.

There’s this house. It’s a 1950’s red brick bungalow on a corner lot with a darling little walkway in front. From the first moment its picture loaded slowly onto my computer screen, I knew that I could really love, and I mean really love, this house on Bloom Road. It was one of those moments when you just gasp and shiver at the little tingles running up your back—I couldn’t believe that I had found my first house. Rich, old hardwood floors swept through every room, filling it with character and charm. The bench seat under an over-sized window, the greenery lining the walk, even the freshly-painted red garage near the back of the lot seemed to be calling out to me. I anxiously booked my cross-country flight for a few weeks away, hoping against hope that the house would still be sitting there waiting for me. Multiple conversations with the owner gave me the assurance that this was my place. I couldn’t wait to lovingly tend to the rhododendrons near the house or to carefully mow along the Hosta plants lining the path. I was in love with a house!

To my utter disappointment, the house sold the very next weekend. A few months later, and with sadness in my heart, we moved into a modest home on South Crestwood Drive. In my opinion, it had absolutely no charm.

The main street in our town runs right in front of the red brick house on Bloom Road. The entrance to the hospital where Greg works is only a few blocks beyond that cute little front walk. My errands take me in that direction almost daily. I am finally able to pass without feeling the familiar ache of longing. In fact today as I let my eyes scan the details of the front yard for the thousandth time, I noticed the foliage seemed a bit over grown. The grass was due for a mowing and more than one weed was poking its head through the hosta plants. Maybe I was looking at it through the lens of time, but it suddenly didn’t feel like it should have been my home anymore.

Today, I slowed as I turned the corner onto South Crestwood Drive. I felt the familiar dip as my van rolled onto our slightly sunken, worn-out driveway. My little house seemed to be opening its old arms wide to welcome me home. Gosh, I started to think, Greg and I have put so much love into this house and yard. It has definitely won over my heart. With every step from the van to the front door, I passed something that our hands had touched: the blooming flowers I planted with my girls; the sidewalk which Greg carefully reclaimed from the grass; the multi-paned front windows we painstakingly painted; the new curtains swaying in the window--which I picked out and Greg bravely hung; and the fresh new planter box just beyond the front steps we killed ourselves to build. I sighed with a sense of satisfaction. Stepping into the house, I planted my feet squarely on the new wood flooring in our entry. The new carpet still looks fresh, too, I thought. Then, I checked my hair in the large mirror I found on clearance at Home Depot. I still think it looks fantastic hanging in the middle of our red wall. I am so glad I convinced Greg to let me paint it red. It matches my favorite chair perfectly.

Jane, my backdoor neighbor, asked me rather facetiously the other day if I wanted to trade houses. Her children are all grown and it is a bit big for just the two of them. She proudly toured me through a very nice and spacious home twice the size of ours. It even has a garage! I laughed it off and told her that Greg and I could never afford that kind of home. She quickly said, “Oh, yes you could! I’d give it to you!” I’m sure she was merely dreaming about cleaning something smaller.

I walked home a bit slower that evening pondering her proposition. I could see Greg and the kids playing in our screened-in porch. I passed the playhouse with the swings swaying idly to and fro in the breeze. I brushed my hand against the old fireplace where we roast our marshmallows. A bit further on, I caught a glimpse of my Mother’s Day Garden. Greg worked so hard to build that for me. The plants are thriving and a few are already bearing fruit (and vegetables, I should say). The kids are so excited about the garden. We love it. I noticed my hanging pots on the back of the house were really getting full of color. For some strange reason, I couldn’t find one good reason to trade Jane. I just knew that I would sit and look longingly out the windows at my little old house and my old backyard. It seemed like the backdoor creaked extra loudly that night as I joined my family on the porch. A cool breeze was just starting to blow through. Greg pulled me onto his lap and asked me what Jane had wanted. The kids were laughing and playing together on the floor. I caught a whiff of freshly-mowed grass on a summer’s night. I just leaned back on Greg. I felt more content than I have ever felt. “So, what did she want?” Greg asked again.

“Oh, nothing,” I responded, “nothing at all.”

The day we said good-bye to our happy Pennsylvania Home...2009.

I love my little house. But if I have learned anything, it is that love grows with careful attention and effort. Perhaps it is the same with people as with houses.

With careful attention and effort, may we all bloom in whatever city, house, marriage or situation we have been planted in.
Love, Rindi

Life is a Zoo!

Hi! It's Rindi again. Yesterday I turned 32 years old! I know, I know...I'm getting older. It was a great birthday spent with my family at the San Diego Zoo! We saw lots of animals, all of which seemed a whole lot calmer than the kids I brought with me. Here are some of the highlights:
-The baby hippo! So cute. The wrestling, playful gorillas. The turtles swimming all around...some had really long necks! The big elephant splashing in the water...so fun to see!
-Watching Miles be mesmerized by the reptiles!
-Holding hands and skipping along with Emma and Julia!
-Wrestling with Austin during a bus tour of the zoo. (The weather was absolutely glorious, and it was such a beautiful way to see the zoo...when I wasn't busy holding onto my own little monkey!)
-Pushing our stroller (which I'm sure was loaded way beyond its factory specifications) up and down the rolling hills of the largest zoo ever! I'm sure I looked like a vision pushing that thing straight up a hill...putting my back into it and pushing with all my might. What would we do without a double stroller with bags hanging from the handles, jackets and lunches shoved in the basket, kids crammed in the seats all the while trying to weave through the crowds of oblivious people? Oh, it's so fun!
-Watching Greg push the stroller! To be completely fair, he did a whole lot of the pushing. And yes, he was a vision while putting his back into it! Good job, honey.
-Eating ice cream cones in the shade with a nice breeze keeping us cool. Ice cream cones make any family moment magical right? Until they all start dripping and you have to help lick as fast as your tongue will go! Luckily we had very little dripping and a whole lot of fun.
-Chasing Austin around and around the snake house. Boy, that kid can run tirelessly. Good thing I've been training!
-Carrying Austin on our shoulders because he refused to stay in the stroller!
-Forcing Austin to sit in the stroller because our shoulders were tired.
-Finally getting Austin to fall asleep in the stroller....ahhhh...
-Ending the day on the Skyfari overhead tram ride. The views were incredible, the kids loved it and I could have stayed there all day soaring above the treetops. (Until I thought about getting stuck on that thing with Austin...wow, that would be some intense wrestling!) I was so happy to make it safely to the end.
-And since it was my birthday, they all took me out to dinner to celebrate.

It wasn't the relaxing birthday that I might think about in my dreams, but I wouldn't change a thing! My life may be a zoo full of wild animals, but who doesn't love the zoo?

Crossing the Finish Line--Together!

Rindi: When Stalee and I were little, we slept in the same bed. I am only 21 months older than Stalee, and we have always been really close. We spent a lot of time through the years participating in the same sports, going to the same schools, and hanging out with the same friends. It seems like that in every big moment in my life, Stalee has been there cheering for me. She has a very no-nonsense attitude about life that keeps me laughing, keeps me calm, and keeps me going. I can remember years ago being in our bed at night next to Stalee. I usually had a hard time falling asleep…but not Stalee! So long after she was asleep, I would reach my little hand over and find the warmth of her fingers. And then interlocking our two hands, I would fall asleep knowing that she was there by my side.

Stalee and I wrote this post together! We crossed the finish line on Saturday...and once again, I’m so glad that Stalee was by my side.

Happy! And ready to run!

Stalee: This last weekend, I had the great opportunity of running a relay with Rindi and a few friends. It is called The Lake to Lake Relay and it was 52 miles. There were five girls on our team, and we each ran two different legs of the race—each about five or six miles. I was so excited for this race. I have done a few other races but I had never done a relay. I was so thankful that I had Rindi running with me because I felt like I had an ally. We had been talking about this for weeks and training together.

On Saturday morning we met at 6:30, and we were both so very nervous. We did not know our paths, we weren’t used to running twice in one day, and we were really hoping that we would not die! Some of the legs were named Navigational Nightmare, Man o’ Warrior, Washington “Dam” Hill, Dirty Climber, and Sand Finale, just to name a few. I was very intimidated. I had never run a race where I had the pressure of knowing people were waiting for me. I felt that if I did not go fast my team would be disappointed and so that kept my anxiety really high. I started thinking back to the first time I ever ran a race. It was at a time when my self-esteem was in the dumps. I did not think I even knew who I was anymore. I had spent so many years giving myself to everyone that I sort of lost sight of who I was and what I liked to do. Sunee sort of pulled me into running since she had run a couple of marathons. So I set a goal to run a half marathon, and I started training. At first I didn’t know if I could even run more than five miles but one day Sunee said, You need to prove to yourself that you can do this. I will never forget that race. I ended it crying…not because I was in pain, which I was, but because I was so proud that I had actually accomplished something. I had done something hard. It gave me the boost that I needed to keep going and I have not stopped since. I love running. I start with so many issues and problems and end feeling like I ran through all my problems. It helps me emotionally, spiritually, physically, and mentally.

My first leg of the race went okay. It was 5.7 miles, and it was not flat. I felt like I was running uphill the whole time. Because of the adrenaline of the race, I started out too fast and burned my legs out, but I did it in pretty good time and I was happy about that.

Run, Stalee, Run!

Rindi: Stalee did so awesome on her first leg! It looked so hard and very uphill, but she came in very strong and fast. I was really proud of her.

Stalee: I do have to brag a little. Not about me, but about Rindi. Rindi is a competitor. She is tough, and she does not give up. I kept begging her not to go too fast because I was so worried she would lose too much energy on her first leg. Well, we barely drove to the end of her leg and sure enough Rindi was running in. When she finished I was so proud of her. Her first leg was 4.7 miles and she ran it in 7 and a half minute miles. That is so so so so so so fast. That is like sprint! Men run faster than that sometimes but most girls do not. She did so well. (Rindi: Okay, it’s not THAT fast, but it was way faster than we had trained!)

Rindi...ready to get started!

Rindi: Early that morning, I decided that I wanted to give this race my very best. By the time I ran my first leg, it was already sunny and warm. I got the handoff and just soared out of there. I could see a bunch of people ahead of me so I just kept catching up and passing the next person. I felt really good and it seemed like I was running fast, but I had no idea how far I had gone so I was unable to judge my speed. (I won’t do a relay without a GPS watch ever again!) I ended it so much faster than I thought I would! I was proud of myself, but I'm sure I used up too much energy. Still, it felt great…the weather was beautiful…and we were running! So fun! On Stalee's second leg of the race, I was so worried about her! It was really hard with a lot of hills and a HUGE dirt hill at the end. I didn't know how she would make it over that, because I knew how tired she was, but she did! She did awesome again.

Stalee: Before my second leg of the race, I was about to puke because I was so worried I would not be able to do it. My legs still felt tired and my stomach did not feel the best. I had no other choice but to do it. Right before I started, I said to Rindi, “I don’t think I can do it.” She was the best; she pumped me up and I felt a lot better after talking to her. So I started my final run, and I actually felt a lot better than I did my first one. I took Rindi’s watch so I could try to gauge my speed, and I had tried to memorize where the mile changes were. I was feeling pretty good. At the very end of my leg there was this huge dirt hill that I had to go up. Rindi told me later that the hill was so steep that the van had a hard time getting up it. When I saw the hill, however, I was relieved because I knew I was almost done. It was hard and steep and dusty, but once I made it to the top I could see everyone at the bottom and I knew I had made it. I was so happy to be done, but I was concerned for Rindi. Her last leg was 6.3 miles long and pretty much uphill the whole way. When she started her leg it was about 2:00 p.m. and it was warm. While running, it felt really hot! She had to run around the entire Sand Hollow Lake. The hard part was that after about one mile the car could not follow her at all, and she was all on her own the whole time. When we left her, she looked hot and tired. I was so worried. It felt like I had left her alone to die.

Don't worry, Stalee. I'm still alive and runnin'!

Rindi: My second leg felt really long. Longer than I thought it would be. I started off at my fast pace again and I was feeling good, but already a little tired. I had to run almost seven miles around Sand Hollow. After about a mile and half, I had a big dirt hill! I wasn't expecting that and it nearly defeated me. But I passed two guys who were walking, so I had courage to go on. For probably the last four miles, I was having a constant battle in my mind about putting each foot in front of the other. I was hot and tired and the ground was so sandy and rocky that each step was difficult. Somehow I just kept running. I kept setting goals for myself like, just run to that turn, and then I would make it there and then I would set another goal. The whole time, I kept thinking of Stalee waiting for me at the end. It kept me going. Finally I started wondering, if I just sat down and died, would Stalee come and find me? My eyes were tearing up out of exhaustion and I just kept running. (The reason this race was extra difficult was because of the extremely competitive nature of it! We were all pushing ourselves much faster than normal. We were never expecting that much pressure and I think it took it out of every runner on the course!) I kept looking at my watch and trying to decide how much farther I had to go. I couldn't see the end, but I was hoping it would be close. Twice I was deceived! I saw a parking lot with cars and set my whole focus upon making it there. When I got close enough to see that it wasn't there, I just stopped running. It was devastating. Based on my time, I thought I should've been close, but I couldn't see the end (it wasn't until I ended that I found out that my leg was really a half mile longer than they originally told us). I somehow willed myself to keep running. I have to say that it was very lonely. I was the only runner around for most of this leg. I could see two runners way up ahead of me, but it was quiet and lonely and hard. Finally, when I was ready to give up, I saw Stalee at the top of a small rise. There was a crowd of people and she was waving her arms at me. I nearly cried, but I didn't have the energy to even do that! So, I just kept running. If Stalee wouldn't have been there when I needed her most, I wouldn't have made it. When I made it close to her, I breathlessly said, "Is this the end?" and she replied, "Just a little bit more." I could see that my team was there to run to the finish line with me. I told Stalee, jokingly, "I CAN'T MAKE IT!" But she grabbed my hand, and I got a good boost from my team, and we sprinted through a parking lot and across the finish line. I was soooo happy to be done! Once it was over, I immediately felt better. I actually ran my last leg in an hour and five minutes--which is still pretty fast for us! It just felt a whole lot longer.

Stalee: When we drove to the finish line I heard someone say that this leg was actually 6.7 miles long. I had a heart attack. I knew Rindi didn’t know that it was almost a half mile longer. I can’t tell you the anxiety that I had at that finish line. I had to wait there for about 45 minutes worrying if she was o.k. When I finally saw her way off in the distance I was so relieved that she was o.k. She was still running but I could tell she was spent. I waved really big so she would know she was almost there and met her and we ran in together. I was so proud of Rindi. She ran so much farther than the rest of us. It turned out to be about 11.5 miles while some girls only did 8.5. (Rindi: I didn’t have the hardest runs! Maybe just the longest!) It was not easy terrain either. We were on dirt roads and huge hills. Between the five of us we ran 52 miles. That is so crazy to me. It was such a wonderful experience.

Our team at the finish line! We did it!

A guy in my ward who ran it with his brothers and dad, (Rindi and I ran it with his wife and sister), bore his testimony about it in church. It touched my heart so much, and I wanted to share it with you. He said that it was such a neat experience running with his brothers and dad. He said when he started his leg of the race, he knew that he had to run fast and give it all he had because he knew that his family was waiting for him at the end. He knew that they were cheering for him and wanting him to do his best so that their whole team would do well. He said he ran faster and harder than he had ever run because he could not let them down. He also knew that they would ask him about it and he wanted to be proud to tell them he had given it his all. He got thinking while he was running that this is how life is. We are all sent here to earth—our race to run. We are expected to give it our all because we know there are people at the end waiting for us and counting on us. We know that we have a Heavenly Father waiting to ask us if we did our best and if we did everything possible in our lives. Look at the bigger picture in life, just as our raced ended, our lives will end too.

There was a point while running that I told myself over and over again, This pain will end and I will be done, so push harder. One day our lives will end and our pain will end so push harder in life. Give life your all. When your legs are tired and you feel out of breath, remember you have people cheering you on so keep going.

I love Rindi. I am so thankful she ran this with me. I had the best time with her. I will always cherish this race. Rindi has always cheered me on in life. She has always told me I could do something when I felt self-doubt. When I am running I feel thin, I feel alive, and I feel happy. So I will keep running until I can’t anymore. I have also always been so proud of Rindi and all of her accomplishments. I am again today as I remember how fast she ran and how far she had to go. Thank you Rindi!

Rindi: I've been thinking a lot today about how it felt to push myself to do something scary and hard. I gave it my all, and when my all didn't seem good enough, Stalee was there on the hill waving her arms at me and encouraging me to come on. I'll never forget that image. I needed her and she was there. I'm so thankful that she knows me enough to know that I was hurting and tired and that I needed help. We did this together! It was so awesome. There were 50 women's teams and our team took 13th place! I am so proud of our accomplishment and so happy to know that we gave it our all. On the drive home, I felt very "alive"! The breeze felt good, the sun was warm, and I was so happy to have accomplished this goal. Sometimes you need to prove to yourself what you CAN do, instead of sitting around telling yourself all of the things you can't do.

Rindi’s final words: Stalee, thank you so much for convincing me to do this. I love you. There are still times in my life when I need to reach over and feel the warmth of your hand in mine and know that you are by my side.