This one's for you two.

When my parents first told us that they had decided to serve a mission, I have to admit I wasn't that surprised. I was surprised they had decided to do it so young, but they've been wanting to serve a mission ever since I can remember.

I'm not sure if you know my parents story or not, but they first met while my dad was serving an LDS mission in her small town. He and his companion used to eat at my grandparents house once a week. I once took a peek at his mission journal (sorry Dad!) and read about how he thought my mom was beautiful but he needed to focus on his mission. I loved reading that. I like knowing that that's what started it all.

Growing up my parents always talked about how that was the biggest goal for them. They wanted to retire and serve missions. Even though they started before retirement this go around, I have no doubt that this will not be the one and only mission. I know there are many more to come.

Having your parents basically the farthest away a person can get is a strange feeling. I went from talking to my parents a few times a week and seeing them a few times a week, to checking my email daily to see if I got an email, and getting excited when I see the random number starting with 0 on the caller ID. Our family has never had a missionary before and it makes me proud that my parents are the first ones.

In an email the other day my mom said that they've been so busy they haven't had the pangs of homesickness yet. That makes me happy. That means my prayers are being answered. I want them to dive into the work and enjoy every second they can get of it. I've had them for 25 years, I can give a few to the Lord. But as the people who are left behind, I feel the pangs of missing them almost daily. I miss my Dad's hugs. I miss my mom's foot rubs. Did you know she gives the best ones? As a dancer growing up they were awesome.



I still think about saying goodbye at the airport and how I had written them each a letter to tell them how much I loved them because I knew that I couldn't say it out loud without making a fool of myself blubbering in front of all those people. They had just walked away and were getting their tickets checked and I was crying and had forgotten about the letters. I suddenly remembered and ran to the pole holding the rope separating me from them. I yelled to my mom and she came over and grabbed them and I gave her one last hug and kiss as we both had tears in our eyes. I remember her excited eyes. I knew she would love it out there. And she does.



Celebrating Mother's day without your mother here was hard for me. I know Father's day will be equally as challenging for me, if not more. I'm a daddy's girl...my mom knows it. So as we are here in Utah, those two are fulfilling their biggest dream. I couldn't be more proud. I'm proud to be their daughter. Even if I'm the middle one and am often forgotten.

Kidding Mom.

20...it's pretty good.

(Beth, when she was trying to be like me and go brunette)


20 years ago today I had one of the most tramatic experiences of my life. I was 6. Sarah was 9. For years it had just been us. I liked Sarah. Even though she would make me believe such stories as this...

Imagine us eating popsicles. It wasn't always popsicles but any type of treat really. Sarah is older...so naturally she eats her popsicle faster than me. (What? Don't older people eat faster than younger people?)...I thought so. So Sarah is half way done with her popsicle while I have only had a few licks. She says to me.

Sarah: Let's trade popsicles.
Me: Why?
Sarah: Because I'm older and bigger so I should have the bigger popsicle, and you are younger and littler (littler?...pretty sure that's only a word in young people launguage) so you should have the smaller popsicle.
Me: Ok.

I was gullible you guys.

So I really liked Sarah. I liked it just being the two of us. I knew my mom had some sort of weirdness (weirdness?) going on in her belly because it kept getting bigger and biggger and then it started to move and it freaked me out. So Alien like. Then one day my mom went to the hospital. We were later brought over by our lovely neighbor. When we got to the hospital my mom was in a bed and Sarah and I sat on a couch at the end of that bed. My dad...who can't handle any kind of bodily grossness (grossness? I'm not doing very well today) has to leave the room or he passes out. Embarassing . So here we are in the hospital room, minding our own business when all of a sudden Dr's come in and nurses and I'm confused as to what is happening here.

And. Then. It. Happens.

You know what I mean people. I'm in the room. Baby in belly, Baby not in belly anymore. And I witnessed it all.

I was horrified. I still can't believe my own mother would let me be in there for that. That stuff that all of you mommy bloggers talk about how wonderful and great it is....it's not so wonderful OR great for someone who is 6.

Let me tell you.

Sheri will still to this day stand firm in her belief that we wanted to be there.

Whatever. I never knew what I was signing up for.

Are you still reading? I promise this post has an end.

It's in sight.



So after the event, we had a new sister. One with HUGE blue eyes and blonde hair? What? Blonde hair? Are you sure we are sisters?

And about 12 years past. And I never really warmed up to the new sister. She was whiny and spoiled and was WAY cuter than I was.. I didn't like her for almost all of those years.

And then one day something changed. I still to this day can't put my finger on it. Sarah thinks it's because she got married. I think it was because all of a sudden we had something in common. Even though Beth was 6 years younger than me we were now the same size. We could share clothes, makeup, and she started to like boys...so now we had things to talk about. And it went from not being able to stand the sister....to loving her more than ever. We became best friends. So close that I could tell Sarah felt left out. There's just not enough of me to go around!

And now 20 years later, she's lucky enough to live with me and Jon. I think at first we all thought it would be weird, but I love it. I love that even though we've been sisters for this 20 years, I learn new things about her, and a few others that I just love.


Like the other day when she told me about the time she tried to buy Mike's Hard Lemonade and was confused as to why they were asking for her ID. Silly.

And how she is so daring she found a new love for long boarding, and she has promised me to never do it with out a helmet....cause I'm her mom while the real one is gone.

How she is one of the most beautiful people I've ever known and she has no idea.


She get's harassed by our family to marry a blind date with a boy who's name starts with B. It runs in the family.

How she's so tall and she owns it. What? 5'11' and still wears heels? What a girl.

And my very favorite in our 20 years so far.

My first year of college my parents had gone on a trip to Hawaii and Beth didn't want to stay home until I got home from school...my class ended at 10:00, so I took her with me. And the cute boy in my class who I had a crush on was hitting on my little sister. My teacher asked me to introduce her to the class so I got up and said...This is my sister Beth. And my teacher asked how old she was....

Wait for it...

14.

Oh the look on the boys face when he heard that number. Priceless.

Finding out your crush likes your 14 year old sister? Not so priceless for me...thanks Mastercard.

So to you Beth, on this day 20 years later. You're pretty much the coolest in the fam. And we all know it. Happy Birthday.

The Olympian

So I have this thing for Olympians, it's a secret thing. I'm not even sure Jon knows about this. I've always wanted to have an Olympian friend, family member, neighbor, what have you. Any close relationship with any sort of Olympian would do, I'm really not that picky.I know Sarah has this secret desire even if she won't tell anyone. My Uncle was a professional soccer player for the Vancouver 86ers and played in the World Cup. He has his garage full of soccer jersey's that he traded with other players. Did you know they do that in the World Cup? It's so cool. That's my closest claim to fame...unless you count being the daughter of the great Kevin. If anyone is anyone in WeJo they totally know my dad. He was the coolest Fireman in the town...I just have to gloat for a second...

I love meeting people who recognize my maiden name, and say with wonderment in their eyes..."Are you related to Kevin?" Why yes, yes I am. I love being Kevin's daughter...especially when I was single and cute firemen knew who he was....

Ok I'm done.

After the uncle retired from soccer my sister and I moved on to Beth (the youngest of the sisters). She is tall. She passed me up when I was in 7th grade. She is beautiful, she is tan...she basically is the perfect person to be a beach volleyball player and Sarah and I totally wanted her to be an Olympian. After she decided she didn't want to be sucked in to the Olympian lifestyle (I guess it's a pretty rough life. Strict and what not....Beth is not that kind of person), I moved on to my darling cousin Amelia. She is basically Beth but younger. She's also the soccer playing uncles' daughter. She's a swimmer. When she was 8 or 9 she was making crazy swimming times at her meets...like a female Michael Phelps. I knew this was my shot. She too succumbed to the desire to let go of the Olympic lifestyle and decided to play soccer instead....maybe I still have a chance? Amelia? Do I?

A few weeks ago I met my own Olympian. Although, I didn't really know he was an Olympian. He's also a Dr and that's why I went to him... I was told he was the best orthopedic surgeon around. So I made an appointment based soley on his MD credentials. This is the conversation I had with Jon.

Me: I made an appointment with an Orthopedic Surgeon
Jon: Good, which one?
Me: Umm Heiden. You're mom recommended him.
Jon: Wait...Eric Heiden? As in the Eric Heiden? Eric Heiden the OLYMPIAN??
Me: Um...I don't know. His name is Eric Heidn. Is he really an Olympian?

...my secret desire to befriend him growing stronger...

Jon: He could possibly be the best speed skater ever...in all of Olympic history.

....me getting more excited by the second to see this guy...

The next day Jon sent me a link to Wikipedia with a pretty good explanation of who the guy really was. It was thrilling, exhilerating. I was this close! I hoped he had his gold medals in a case in his office! We could be friends! I couldn't wait....

Then he told me that I needed to stop wearing high heels, wear orthotics (like an old lady) and go to Physical Therapy.

What was that Dr?

No high heels?

I'm confused...do you mean... never?

Never...ever?

Dr. Heiden: "Of course I can't make you, but it would be in your best interest"



I've decided I don't like Olympians any more.