A Hard Working Husband and A Welcoming Ward

I am so glad I married a man who is not afraid of hard work and knows how to work hard.

This weekend we spent ALL of Saturday organizing the garage, which was no small task. I now can park in it, yeah! I helped for a bit, until there were so many boxes in the house that someone needed to be inside to unpack them. ( I had my house all box free, decorated and looking good; the addition of more boxes to go through made me want to cry. I was ready to chuck it all!)

He worked from sun up to sun down and past to get the garage cleaned out and do some things I needed help with in the house. And no complaining about it either; he just did it. He did complain about being sore today; I was too! Among other things, we hauled the treadmill all the way up two flights of stairs, moved big furniture around, took everything out of the garage and went through it, either trashing or yard sale-ing a lot of it, before putting it back in a way that allowed for me to park inside.

Then he helped with hanging things I was uncomfortable doing on my own, going through boxes, and all with a good attitude.

Really, he is amazing and I am so glad he is mine!

Also, we went to our new ward last week, and loved it. Everyone was so nice, so many people welcomed us and said hi, and Jason and I had an interesting experience in sacrament meeting. During the meeting, I found myself looking around for familiar faces, then caught myself and remembered we were here for the first time!

I felt so comfortable, so familiar, so RIGHT in that meeting. Like home. It brought tears to my eyes after feeling so without roots for the last 6 months. I missed feeling home. I couldn't tell you why I felt like that, I just did.

On the way home, I told Jason about my feeling, and he said he felt the same way! We both pondered if that meant we were finally where we are going to stay. I sure hope so.

Today was our second week there, and they read our records. When we stood while they were reading our names, I smiled back and the sea of people smiling at us, and felt it again. Home. As we walked our kids to class, the teachers remembered their names. People again introduced themselves, welcomed us, and said they were glad we were here.

We enjoyed the ward we just came from. The people were nice, kind, and treated our kids great. We never got welcomed quite this way, though. We never felt home. We felt like we visited for 6 months, and won't be remembered in a couple of weeks. I know this happens in wards with lots of turnover, and I'm not upset about it, but what a difference here!

I hope this means we will get to stay longer than 6 months, that is our sincere prayer. We are really liking the neighborhood and the house. We will, of course, go were we are led by the spirit, and if we end up moving again in 6 months we will do it faithfully. But we would love to stay.

Home. What a beautiful word.

Ninnyisms

Corrine often sits in her booster chair with her feet tucked under her, resulting in the uncomfortable tingly feeling that accompanies them falling asleep. She put it very adorably the other day:

"Mommy, my foots are going for nap!"

You know you've been a mom a long time when...

You pick up your toddler of the squishy bottom, and feel wetness on your side.

Instead of thinking: EWWW! I need to change my shirt!

You think: Eh. It'll dry. Spray on a little body spray and I'm all good. It's not worth the effort and extra laundry to change. I'm not going anywhere anyway. Oh. Wait. I am going out on a date with hubby later, but he won't mind.

Side note: If this was SOME OTHER CHILDREN'S pee, I would surely be grossed out. Would probably hold my shirt away from my skin until I could change. It is only my own child's pee that I would wear around all day.

Conversely, you know you have been a mother a long time when the smallest amount of apple juice ( the stickiest substance known to man when applied to a kitchen floor) is spilled and you go ballistic. Little droplets go EVERYWHERE. Seriously, everywhere. How does that even happen? Chair legs, table legs, cabinet doors, walls, blinds, kickboards, everywhere.

The state of the kitchen floor is apparently more important than my own hygiene. Here's to motherhood!

What did they just say?

So have you ever overheard your children pretend playing, and hear yourself in what they say and the way they say it?

And it isn't a particularly flattering rendition?

Seeing yourself reflected back at you through your children can be a very rewarding and very humbling experience.

Rewarding when you see them do something well that you have taught them, or they follow your example.

Humbling when you hear your critical tone when they talk to a sibling.

I never learned as much about myself until I became a mother, and I believe that this is a good kind of learning.

I am just sorry my poor children are having to live the experience of me learning on them!

On a side note, we are in our new house and I am busy busy busy unpacking and reorganizing and purging excess. And we have a lot of excess. We are going to have a massive yard sale!