Toddler-Sized Faith

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Craig and I have a phrase that we seem to repeat to each other a lot, and that is, “the faith of a toddler.” We say this in times when your kid dives off of a chair and into your arms, absolutely sure that you’ll catch them. Or when they just know mom or dad can for sure fix something. You know, things like that.

Its been over a year now since this happened, but we gained yet another reason to continue saying, “the faith of a toddler,” and its a story I think about all the time because it really moved me. It was, without a doubt, a thing that happened in our family for us to learn from for years and years to follow.

We love to go on family walks. We always have. Sometime last Summer we were out on a walk on our usual route. Both our boys had brought a small toy with them. At one point we let Harrison out of the stroller to run around for a minute when we noticed he was tossing his little toy, a very small Woody figurine, up into the air over and over. We warned him to be careful to not lose it, and for a while he did fine, but then all of the sudden, Woody was nowhere to be found. Craig and I tried to recall where Harrison had stood the last time he’d tossed his toy, but try as we might we just could not find that tiny Woody toy anywhere – and of course, he was standing in the middle of a large, grassy field. Craig, Harrison and I looked for a while, desperately seeking this tiny little toy. 

It started to get darker, but we kept on looking. My sister had texted me around this point and I explained to her what was going on, then next thing I knew, my whole family and one of my sisters friends showed up to the field to help us look. I don’t even know how long we looked, but it was a long, long time. It was completely dark by the time we finally decided to call it quits and cut our losses. We walked back home with a very devastated Harrison. My family had stayed in the field a while longer and said a police officer even stopped by to help (probably because we all looked so crazy out there digging through grass haha!) but they too had no luck.

The next day we decided to look one more time – just give it a shot. At one point, Harrison approached me and told me he was going to say a prayer. It made me pause. I’ve always tried to teach my kids that there is never a bad time to pray. Prayer is always a good idea. I’ve also tried to stress to my kids that whenever you feel a need to pray, you should pray. I’ve taught my kids this – yet, in this moment, I hadn’t thought to pray, but Harrison, my (then) 3 year old, did. I was so proud of him and so proud of the faith he had. He knew that there was no problem too small to take to Heavenly Father. So he said a little prayer asking that he would find his toy, my heart melted and we continued searching. 

My family joined again and we started combing through the grass yet again. Thinking about it now, I have to laugh thinking about how silly we looked. This field was on a main road and cars were passing nearly constantly. I told my family how Harrison had prayed about it and my dad made the comment that we better find the toy or we’d have to have a tough conversation with a three year old about how not all prayers are answered how we want them to be haha! 

It took a while, but guess what? We found it. My mom happened upon it and excitedly raised it into the air and we all celebrated! Harrison was overjoyed and we all felt a great sense of relief. The faith of a toddler is truly incredible and it reminded us all of something very important that day. There really is nothing we can’t take to the Lord and I’m glad Harrison made me recall that. Harrison victoriously took his Woody figurine home, and we then explained to him that after Heavenly Father helps us with something, we should pray to thank Him. He did that, and his little simple prayer of gratitude was incredible. I adore him. 

This all happened quite a while ago, but I still think about it all the time. The faith of a toddler is inspirational, and I’m thankful I’ve got some sweet toddlers to continually remind me of how important it is to keep your faith strong and to remember that Heavenly Father cares about everything in our life – even the tiny little things.

The Day We Found Out

Every March, Wild Man’s extended family has a huge family reunion in Bryce Canyon. This year was no different. We were trying to get pregnant and after doing some calculating, I found that if I was not pregnant, I would start my period on the second to last day there. I wanted to be really hopeful and faithful that I was pregnant and not pack any ahem, lady supplies, but I also really didn’t want to have that awful experience when you start and have absolutely nothing. So reluctantly I packed the stuff.

If I remember correctly, the reunion lasted four days, maybe five. Typically, at least three days before my period would start, I’d start to feel very crampy and sick. A couple days into the trip I realized that I hadn’t felt any cramps – but I chalked that up to being too preoccupied by family and activities to notice them. Finally, the second to last day came and I just awaited that sign that it had begun.

I waited and waited and waited…

It was time for bed and still nothing. Of course, I got really hopeful, excited and anxious. But I didn’t even tell Wild Man because I was so scared about jinxing myself. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time my period started a day late or so. So I forgot about it and went to sleep. I’d probably start the next day.

But I didn’t. The whole last day as we had a few last activities, packed and said our goodbyes, I kept waiting for the cramps then the real deal. But nothing. I felt totally fine with no signs of it coming. Again, I felt that rush of hopefulness, excitement and anxiousness.

We got home from the reunion and still nothing. This time I mentioned to Wild Man that I didn’t start yesterday and hadn’t started today and it was almost midnight. He asked if I was pregnant. I didn’t want to say yes, but I think at this point…for some reason I just kind of knew. But I’d seen a negative pregnancy test before and felt that disappointing blow even when I was sure I was pregnant. Even though I think I really did know, I kept saying that I’m probably just late this month.

Wild Man talked me into taking a test. I’d read somewhere that your have the strongest levels of the pregnancy hormone in the morning, so I decided that the next morning I’d wake up early, run to the store, buy a test and come home and take it. I should have known I wouldn’t really do that. Morning came and I was tired and I don’t think I really fully woke up to my alarm. So I missed that chance. That day I went to the store and bought a test. I’d take it the next morning.

The next morning I woke up early due to huge amounts of anxiety. I was now several days late and that positive feeling in my mind was only getting stronger but I was too afraid to admit that to Wild Man or even myself.

I took the test and sat it on the counter. The test said to wait 2 minutes before getting my answer. I set a timer, left the bathroom and laid in bed for what felt like an eternity. The entire time I laid in bed I just prayed over and over, “let this be the answer we want, let this be the answer we want.” Then the timer went off. I have NEVER felt my heart race like it did in that moment. I walked slowly into the bathroom, now totally nervous to look at the test. As I approached it, I started reminding myself that if it was negative, it was ok and I’d be ok. I started to doubt that good feeling I’d had for the last few days. I looked down at the test…

It was positive.

The whole world stopped. I checked the plus sign over and over. I compared it to the sheet of paper explaining what a positive sign looked like and I stared at the sign to make sure it wasn’t just my imagination playing tricks on me. Then I walked right outside the bathroom to a carpeted area and literally flopped on the floor and started to sob. I cried for a while, the whole time holding my stomach. I remember at one point even talking to my stomach, saying ‘hi’ to my little person in there. I was beyond thrilled and possibly in some kind of wonderful shock. I prayed and thanked Heavenly Father over and over and promised I’d try and be the best mom I could possibly be. Then I cried some more, still there in the hallway, holding my stomach that now held a little baby.

There were a million creative ways I wanted to tell Wild Man. I’d seen such cute ways to announce a pregnancy to a new father on Pinterest and other blogs so for a moment I thought about how I’d like to tell him. But then I looked at the clock. It was 8:15am and he wouldn’t be home until a little after 5. There was no way I could wait that long to share such exciting news. So I announced the pregnancy to him in the most boring way possible. I texted him. I said, “guess what?” He knew I was taking the test that morning, so he texted back, “Pregnant?” I sent a picture of the positive pregnancy test and started sobbing, again. Then I got another text back that said, “PREGNANT!!!” Thousands more messages were sent back and fourth about how excited we were, etc. I just cried a lot that day (& may or may not be crying thinking about that day…) When Wild Man came home from work he walked in happily and said, “Hi, pregnant one!” Then, for the first time, he came over and started talking to his baby in my stomach – something he does all the time, now. I melted and at that moment I knew our lives would never be the same and we were the luckiest people, ever.

xoxo

ceeceesparkles

“Sometimes the littlest things take up the most room in your heart.” -Winnie the Pooh

November 4th

Today is my daddy’s birthday! In my family we don’t miss each others birthdays. Even if its just a simple party at home, we like to be with each other on birthdays. Its fun to celebrate these special people in your lives!

About four and a half years ago I developed this secret crush on this guy in my Singles Ward. For quite a while it was just admiring him from afar (or the row behind him in Sacrament Meeting every chance I got) but several months into this crush we started saying a couple more words to each other. You know, the “hi,” “hello,” “how are you?” etc. On October 20th 2011 I got super brave and talked to this handsome guy for the first time. Like a conversation. Even though it was a really awkward and silly ‘conversation’ we had finally really talked.

A few days later this handsome guy called me and asked me to go on a date with him on November 4th. My dads birthday. I was so torn. It was a a family birthday party – but also, this boy was so cute! I talked to my dad about it, and he was so sweet and strongly encouraged me to go on the date. He’d been hearing about this crush for a while now and I think he was actually excited for me to go. So I agreed to the date and on the evening of November 4th, I went on my first date with Wild Man.

And I guess the rest is history.

This is our first picture we ever took together, a couple weeks after our first date at one of Wild Man’s soccer games. (thank goodness i’m done with braces!! yikes)381937_10150482350853383_182777143_n

Also, while I’m here.. HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!!! I love you!!!

xoxo

ceeceesparkles

“So this is love, so this is what makes life divine.” -Cinderella

8 MONTHS, ootd, & Primary Craziness

I know just a few days ago I posted about hitting 35 weeks pregnant, but today is another exciting milestone. 8 MONTHS PREGNANT! One month from today is my due date and I don’t think I’ve fully wrapped my brain around that quite yet. But I do know my brain (and the rest of me) is SO. STINKIN’. EXCITED. The thought of being a mommy and being in charge of my own tiny human is a little daunting, but I’ve got a lot of faith in Wild Man and myself – I think we’re going to be good at this parenting thing! Somehow I think Wild Man is really going to excel at that calling, hopefully I can keep up. Obviously there will be some bumps and learning seeing as this is our first baby, but we’ll get it down. Hey, I’m the first child of my parents and I turned out pretty great 😉 And in this picture I have a very sun-shiny face, it was really bright outside and I was facing the sun. Also look at my cute sisters shadow — we are professional photographers, here.
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Not like my outfit is anything to write home about. But lets do an #OOTD, shall we? (Wild Man pointed out some people may not know what ‘ootd’ stands for – for those of you who don’t know, it stands for ‘outfit of the day’). These are my comfy clothes. The shirt is some long sleeve old shirt I used to wear under my scrubs at esthetics school, the cardigan is from Target (i actually talked about it on an older post) and these pants I refer to as fancy-jammies. They are maternity pants from Old Navy and I’d absolutely would wear them 24/7 if that wasn’t frowned upon. They’re very light-weight, flowy and the most comfortable things, ever. Pregnant or not, you should really consider getting a pair (or 10).

Jumping subjects now.

I am a primary teacher in our ward. I teach the seven and eight year olds. I have a huge, wild, hard-to-control, loud class, but regardless of the insanity that they create, I love them. I come home from church every Sunday with something new to laugh about and I also come home feeling like I just ran a marathon because kid wrangling is no joke.

Tomorrow is our Primary Program in Sacrament Meeting and today we had our program practice at the church. Wow. My class is wild and crazy, but they’ve never been quite to this extreme for me, before. Of my large class, we are split into two. Half the class knows every word and scream/sings at the top of their lungs. Literally they have veins sticking out of their foreheads because of the vigorousness in which they are singing…or screaming, whatever. The other half knows the chorus’s to some songs and mostly quietly mumble. They are not divided however when it comes to NOT standing still. When we sing our songs we are instructed to stand and sing. All of them wiggle, dance, try to sit down without me noticing (ha, jokes on you kids, i see everything!), spin in circles, etc. I have one boy in my class who is particularly irreverent. During songs he likes to pelvic thrust. Like hands in fists, arms swinging, full on pelvic thrusts. No matter how many times I ask him to stand still, he thrusts on.

That has been my biggest concern about this primary program.

Until today.

Today at practice my little pelvic thruster wasn’t as into his dance move as he has been in practices in the past – hallelujah. However after today, I think I’d rather have the thrusting. A few minutes before it was my classes turn to give their talks at the microphone, he explained to me how nervous he was. I told him that all would be well and he’d do a great job. He then told me he was worried because sometimes when he gets nervous he, “says weird things.” I interpreted this as getting tongue tied or flipping a couple words. I reassured him even if that did happen, no worries, he’d still do awesome and if he forgot his part (we are supposed to have parts memorized) that there was a cheat-sheet up on the podium so he could get last minute help from that if he needed. It was our classes turn and they all marched up there and delivered their parts. This little boys part was last. I paid close attention to him, knowing how nervous he was. He got up to the podium, cleared his throat and started delivering his part. As he predicted, a few sentences in, he must have got a little freaked out because he paused. I figured at this point he’d just look down and the cheat-sheet and finish giving his little talk. Instead he sighed…and dropped the f-bomb. Right into the mic. AHH!

Thankfully none of the kids were really paying attention or maybe just don’t know that word, but all the teachers and primary presidency started exchanging awkward, very surprised looks and no one really knew what to do. He then finished his part and came and sat back down next to me.

What was I supposed to do? Like what would you have done?! Do I talk to him about how that words really not appropriate to say at the pulpit, or at church? Or just in general? Is that my job as a primary teacher to teach him this? Do I discipline him? Do I ignore it? I was so, so torn. I had no clue what to do.

He looked up at me and smiled and said, “glad thats over with.” I just decided to let it go. Is that bad? However we did mention this little word-slip to his guardian so hopefully it can be taken care of at home now?

So join with me, if you will, and cross your fingers and say your prayers that there will be no f-bombs in the program tomorrow. Hopefully no pelvic thrusting, either…

But I’m not worrying about that anymore today. Its all about celebrating one month left of pregnancy (give or take)…

xoxo

ceeceesparkles

“The only thing predictable about life is its unpredictability.” -Remy (Ratatouille)