Easter: Part 4

I liked that Easter fell on the same weekend as General Conference this year. (General Conference is a two-day world-wide broadcast our church holds twice a year. There are dozens of talks about different Gospel-related topics that they feel inspired to share. I love it.)

Listening to conference all weekend was a constant reminder of the meaning of Easter, the resurrection of the Savior Jesus Christ and our dependence on Him for our salvation. The talks (at least the parts the I caught between taking care of kids . . . forget about note-taking) were really inspiring. Since I don't get as much as I would like when I watch it, I'm excited to go back and read them to really absorb what's been said. Have you checked out the new conference website? It's pretty slick.

Sitting for two two-hour sessions isn't something that toddlers are physically capable of, so we had to keep them entertained. This little table set up in the family room helped a lot.

Having conference and Easter on the same day meant we wouldn't be attending church. Which brought up a Easter dress dilemma . . . so the girls just wore theirs around the house on Sunday (with pants underneath because it was chilly). I'm kind of a low-maintenance mom. I didn't even get "proper" pictures of them together. Maybe later. . .

After a while, the sleepies started setting in. Sophie ended up on Steve's lap.

There was a little girl who had a little curl . . . OK, she's not really "horrid", just "difficult" sometimes. :)

And how could I see this little face wander over and grab my knees and not pick her up?

Gratitude

Warm fuzzies on a cold, rainy day . . .



Being grateful makes me happy. :)

Saturday Part 2

I'm guessing no one noticed, but I missed another day yesterday. Only two so far, but luckily the month is almost over, and I can go back to posting once a week. OK, maybe twice a week. Posting every day has urged me to post a lot of things that I might not normally write about (I hope you enjoyed the black poop!), but I have to draw the line somewhere. Like when it's 11:30 at night, I wake up from falling asleep trying to put Sophie to bed ("Mommy nay-down! Mommy nay-down! aka "Mommy lay down!"), and I have to choose between blogging and cleaning up my kitchen because if I don't start off clean in the morning, I get further behind and cranky. If I do both, I go to bed around 12:30. Sorry, but blogging gets the boot.

Anyway, after our Pioneer Day BBQ and some extra long napping, we took a picnic dinner up to the temple and ate on the grass. It's something we love doing together. And Sophie loves to see the temple.

Hmm. . . I'm gnawing on a carrot and you have a strawberry.

Trade me!

Because I can't remember the last time I posted a picture of Steve by himself. I love it when he keeps his facial hair under control. I guess all of my complaining about being gauged in the face is finally paying off. Muah. Thanks hon. :)

Pioneers and Coconuts

If you live outside of Utah, you really have to make an effort to celebrate Pioneer Day. There isn't a day off of work, a parade, or fireworks. I actually forgot yesterday was Pioneer Day until my grandma called me and told me about the BBQ they were having with my brother and his family. I suppose there are a couple of perks of living in Utah. :)

Every year our stake throws a Pioneer Day BBQ. This year there was lots of food and games for the kids. Like a ring toss. Unless you're two, then it's "put the ring over the horse's head".

"Coo Gow" (Cool Girl)

We're lucky to have a Samoan ward in our stake, so every stake activity has some island flavor. Pioneer Day shouldn't be complete without cutting coconuts with gigantic scary knives and drinking some hot coconut rice drink stuff. (kind of strange)

After they whacked open some coconuts, one of the Samoan missionaries straddled a wooden bench with a long, metal thing on the end and scraped out the flesh from inside.

Oh, and I finally got a decent family picture of us. The girls were tired, but at least we were all looking at the camera at the same time.

Forgiveness

A couple of months ago we had a little episode (multiple times a day, usually) where Sophie smacked Ivy in the face with something. I usually sent Sophie upstairs to her room for a couple of minutes and then I would bring Ivy up and have Sophie apologize to her and give her a kiss. This time I sent her up the stairs and she stopped halfway, sat down, and continued to cry. I picked up Ivy, who stopped crying soon after, and walked over to the stairs. When I got within a foot of Sophie, I glanced over at Ivy and she was smiling and reaching for her. Sophie said, "Sa-wee Ivy", kissed her on the head, and then we all went back to what we were doing.

Ivy's reaction really stuck with me. Before Sophie even apologized, and while her eyes were still red from crying, she had forgiven her sister. I was still upset, and I wasn't the one who got smacked in the face.

I think about this little incident sometimes and the counsel of the Savior to be as a little child -- humble, meek, forgiving. I certainly have a lot to work on, and I'm glad that my kids remind me that I need to be more Christlike.

I Love to See the Temple

Going to the park alone creeps me out. (There are always a couple of shady guys hanging around. Without kids. Lunch break, maybe?) Sometimes when I get in the mood to go somewhere, I want to go right then, which is why I didn't try to find someone to go with me. So, we packed some snacks and ventured off to the Oakland Temple grounds. It's quiet, peaceful, free of shady loiterers, and there's even music playing. Just the thing to quiet my frazzled nerves.

When we drove up, Sophie saw the temple and her face instantly lit up. She put her thumbs and index fingers together to form a triangle, which is what the younger kids do at church when they sing, "I Love to See the Temple".

It's been really rainy here, and we've been cooped up inside too long. I needed out. So did Sophie. And off she went. Sometimes she came back, and sometimes she didn't.

The flowers were beautiful and blooming all over the place. I saw these fuchsia flowers and had to snap some shots. They were gorgeous. I don't know what they were (some help from my horticulture guru friends...?), but they looked like a cross between a tulip and a lily - two of my favorites. I didn't notice until we got home that they were the same color as Sophie's jacket.

Ivy slept the entire time, which is good because I had to chase Sophie all over the grounds. Sophie was exhausted and zonked out in the car on the way home. . . and for three hours after that. This little trip was good for all of us. I love to see the temple, too. :)

Ivy's Blessing

Lots of family, lots of pictures, lots of preparation, and lots of food -- mixed in somewhere was Valentine's day, too, but the most important part of last weekend was Ivy's blessing. We've unintentionally started a tradition in our family as well. My mom bought Sophie a gorgeous blessing dress and we decided that it was way too pretty to only use once. Along with the dress was a slip with Sophie's name embroidered on it. We decided that Ivy would also wear the dress and that she would have her own slip with her name on it. Since they're so close in age and could potentially get married about the same time maybe we can talk them into wearing the same wedding dress, too. I know . . . wishful thinking.

So, here's where the photos that I took end and the ones my dad took begin. Thanks again, Dad, for documenting our lives. :)

I think Ivy looks smashing in yellow.

My parents and my grandparents flew out for the weekend. I love it when they come (and consequently cry when they leave). I just wish I saw them more often.

Some of Steve's family came over from Sac along with a couple of friends. The blessing Steve gave was beautiful. I didn't cry this time -- probably because Ivy was a little fussy and I was worried that she'd start crying louder. (I, uh, got her feeding times confused that morning and thought she wasn't due for another feeding until after the blessing. I was wrong. She was due right then. She let out a couple of cries, but did well considering.)

We got back to the house and suddenly I had a house full of people and dinner to finish preparing. Of course we had to take pictures, but Ivy was hungry, I was antsy to get dinner finished, so we got the bare minimum before I rushed her upstairs to change her. I really regret not getting more pictures of everyone who was there. We got Ivy, though, and that's the most important thing, I guess.

(My mom's parents on the right.)

We got a picture with all the grandmas which turned out cute. We're all laughing because the only way we could get Sophie to smile was for all 15 people in the house to start counting "O-O-N-E . . . T-W-O-O . . .T-H-R-E-E-E-!!!" As you can see, Ivy didn't hold out until the end.

Sophie loved all the attention she got, and I think she was confused Monday afternoon when everyone was gone, Steve had gone to school, and she was left with boring old mom. (Ya, Steve had to go on President's Day for board reviews. How lame is that!?)

Reality

I read a few blogs that talked about being "real" in their blogs. These women don't always paint a rosy picture of their lives and give you the impression that they have angelic children and a spotless home all the time. I like that because it makes me realize that motherhood is a struggle for everyone -- not just me . . . which brings me to my next point.

I had a lousy week last week, and I noticed in the blogosphere that I wasn't alone. I won't go into details, but it mostly has to do with Sophie. I get so frustrated with her lately. Most of my frustration isn't directed towards her, though, but towards myself. I hate how fast I lose my patience with her when she acts up. Not just acting up, though, but acting up with a defiant little attitude. And doing the same things over and over (like smacking Ivy in the face with wooden objects). In the heat of the moment, I really want to smack her across the face, and it takes all the self-control I have to resist. I never thought I would ever feel that way, and a few minutes later when the moment has passed and she's back to her sweet and innocent self, I wonder how I could ever hurt her.

Thursday was a particularly trying day. My nerves were shot, and I had a little breakdown when Steve came home from school. I had a visiting teaching appointment that night, and I almost backed out because I really wasn't in the right frame of mind. I went anyway. I'm sure the spiritual thought I shared was anything but spiritual, but throughout the chats we had, I was the one who went away uplifted. I knew what I needed to do at home. I love how visiting teaching works like that sometimes -- everyone is uplifted, not just the one who's being visited.

Things have gotten better. I've re-prioritized what really needs to get done around the house so I can give her more attention, and I try to make Sophie's naptimes more productive. We decided that our nighttime routine of spending an hour plus in Sophie's room trying to get her to sleep every night was probably unnecessary right now, so we turned her bed around so she can't get out by herself anymore. She's basically back to a crib. Sophie put up a big fight, but luckily it was short-lived.

I think the root of Sophie's behavior is pretty simple: she's got competition now. Some of the best advice I got from a friend (thanks Missy) was to take care of the newborn's basic needs, but really focus on the older child. I try to give Sophie all the one-on-one time I can and involve her in Ivy's care, but Sophie wants all of me. I can't give her that anymore. I guess we'll just have to remember "this too shall pass", and wait for the day when they'll be able to play together. Sophie might still be hitting her in the face with wooden letters, but at least Ivy will be able to defend herself.

I'm sharing this with all of you because I think that, with all of us networked so tightly in the blogging world, we're in a perfect position to help and lift each other. I'm not into airing dirty laundry or sharing private things on the internet, but there's a lot we can learn from each other's day-to-day experiences. I already have by reading many of yours.

Thank you :)

Relief and Gratitude

It was such a relief this morning when Steve (Who got up at six because "my body told me to." Gee, I wish mine would do that.) told me that Proposition 8 had passed. Despite all the efforts we as members of the Church, as well as many other supporters of traditional marriage, made to educate people about this and warn them of the repercussions of it not passing, I was still surprised that we won. Barely. I think it passed by 52%, with a large number of absentee ballots yet to be counted. I think because of our proximity to San Francisco, I was a bit pessimistic about the likelihood of success, but our efforts weren't in vain.

I was thinking about this as I was reading a conference talk this afternoon. I'd been reading them in order the last couple of weeks, and I got to M. Russell Ballard's talk today about the work of the Lord moving forth. He talked a lot about the early development of the Church, how it overcame struggle after struggle and how its members sacrificed for their faith. He compared they're trials to ours and he made a comment that I thought was appropriate for today.

"Of course, our challenges are different today, but they are no less demanding. . . . Instead of families being uprooted and torn from their homes, we see the institution of the family, including the divine institution of marriage, under attach as groups and individuals seek to define away the prominent and divine role of the family in society."

I'm just really grateful right now.

A Few of Sophie's Favorite Things

The garbage man

Every Wednesday morning the garbage man passes by the house twice -- one for each side of the street. Every other week both the garbage and the recycling gets picked up, so we get four passes. And every Wednesday morning Sophie will hear him coming and climb up on the couch to look out the window.

Those mechanical lifts are sure mesmerizing.

Feeding herself, and any kind of personal hygiene/grooming product

Sophie's working on balancing food on a spoon and insists on feeding herself most of the time. Uh, we still have a ways to go, but she uses a fork pretty well now. If she really likes something she'll just put down her utensil and start grabbing it with her hands. That doesn't work so well with soup.

As far as the hygiene/grooming products goes, anything slippery on Sophie's hands or fingers is, to her, either lotion (rubs it on hands/legs), hair mousse (rubs it in hair), or lip gloss (dabs it on lips/tongue). Sometimes she gets them mixed up and will inadvertently eat something she probably shouldn't or rub the wrong product in the wrong place. Or she'll miss the boat entirely as you can see here.

Singing/humming songs, particularly while looking at her songbook.

I have one of those pocket-sized Primary Children's Songbooks that Sophie has attached herself to. If you ask her if she wants to sing a song, she'll immediately start humming and searching for her songbook. Occasionally (and with close supervision by mom) I'll let her flip through the big one. She loves it.

She hums to herself a lot, even when she's not looking at her book. We realized recently that a frequent melody she hums is the first line from "I Feel My Savior's Love". It gets a little hazy after that, but it's really sweet. Steve and I sing a couple of songs to her before she goes to sleep or if she's particularly cranky in the car or getting her hair washed. It quiets her down instantly. I guess I must have sang that song a lot for her to pick it up so quickly. It's one of the first that comes to my head.

This clip is a little long - about four minutes. I didn't want to cut her off, and then she started jabbering about something, and I couldn't stop during that, either.

Week in Idaho

We're trying to get back into a routine after being gone for a week. Sophie's been particularly moody, whiney, and sassy (yes, sassy. I have no idea what she says, but her tone of voice says it all.) the last couple of days. I hope it wears off soon.

Sophie loved the attention she got from everyone, the space she had to run around in, and of course, playing with Abby (the cat). Abby, who's usually a pretty social cat, spent the last part of the week either outside or hiding in some remote corner of the house for fear of getting hit by balls, having her tail pulled or her eyes poked out. She was pretty patient with the brave little girl who used to be hesitant around her.

Here are a few of my favorite pictures pulled from our camera. (Yes, it came out of my purse a couple of times.)

Psst, Dad. Pick me up before I make a scene.


Typical Devin face. (my brother)


I'm going to ask you nicely to give me the camera.


Fine, I'll use my mean face to intimidate you. (This never works, by the way.)


That's it. I'm just going to take it.

On Thursday my sister went through the temple for the first time. And for the first time, everyone in my immediate family (except spouses) was there together.

It was such an incredible feeling. Something that I'm sure my mom and dad had wished for all of their married lives -- to be surrounded in the temple by all of their children. Yes, we all cried. Even my sister, who's usually the dry-eyed one.

The wedding was Friday morning, which happened to be sunny and warm. Pretty lucky for an Idaho wedding. The sealer who performed the ceremony was the same man who married Steve and me. Yes, we all cried again.

The newly wedded ones. Hillie's colors were hot pink and black, which I thought turned out really cute. Adam's black shirt, pink tie, and silver vest, however, flashed me back to the 80s. He pulled it off nicely, though.


Did I mention it was sunny?


The whole family. (I'm still not sure if I can forgive my siblings for getting married within three months -- before and after-- the birth of my children. Talk about being lumpy... and no nice comment you make will convince me otherwise. It's not really fair. My sister-in-law had her baby three weeks ago and you can barely tell. Sigh. I'll quit ranting now.)


I didn't put her in her nice dress until right before the reception. We still had the luncheon to go to, and if you've seen the way she gets food all over, you wouldn't have dressed her up, either.


Here's little Carter dressed in his tux. I wish he was wearing his jacket in this picture. It has tails on it. Priceless.

The reception was at the same place as ours was held. Hillie even had stargazer lilies in her bouquet like I did. And she was wearing my veil. (aw.) It was sort of a deja vu-ish experience, only I wasn't tied to a wall greeting everyone while my stomach desperately ached for something more than a mozzarella stick.

I tried to pick out some photos that showed off my sister's hair, dress, and flowers up close. Oh, was Sophie in those pictures, too? I didn't notice. :)

Eh, not the best picture of the three of us, but it'll do. We all look like we could use a nap.


Here's the cake. If you can't tell, it has frosting swirlies all over. This isn't fondant, either. I love this cake.


Here's a good one to end on. She's such a cute little stinker.

Little Carter was blessed on Sunday. I don't have pictures of the after party. Probably because I was busy packing. Sniff. Thanks for a great week you guys!!

Side note: There are a few of you who might remember who Duane is. I hadn't seen him since before my mission. He's in my brother's ward. Small world.

Happy Anniversary! or How We Hooked Up: The Expanded Version

Five years ago today Steve and I were married -- almost three years to the day after we met. I have all of this written in my journal, but because it spans three years and lot of other things happened in between, I wanted the whole story in tact. For memory's sake. And because I refuse to scrapbook. I'm throwing in some pictures and journal entries, too (sort of embarrassing, but the whole story needs to be here, right?). Here we go. . . the longest post of my life.

Sunday, September 3, 2000 - Moscow, Russia

I'd been in Russia for a couple of weeks getting used to the culture, the smell, the food, and desperately trying to fight homesickness. I was with 10 other girls on a semester-long stay in Moscow to teach English with the International Language Programs (ILP). That Sunday we'd decided to go to church at the Russian branch and almost doubled their attendance. That night a few of us decided to meet at the church with the other members and ride a bus to a baptism being held in another part of the city. When we got there, the missionaries looked a little wary. Steve told me later it was mostly because we were a bunch of American girls - who most hadn't seen in over a year - and they didn't know why we were there. We cram onto the bus. ILP girls sat in the back, the members sat in the front, and the missionaries stood, a little cramped, where they could find standing room. The missionary standing right in front of me happened to be Steve.

Neither of us wanted to be too chatty for obvious reasons of him being on a mission and me a single girl, but we did talk a little. Steve wanted to know who we were and what we were doing there. So we talked about that, and a little about him. You know, the basics . . . "Where are you from?" "How long have you been on a mission?". Our conversation stayed pretty low-key, but I guess we'd made a good impression on each other.

Nat's Journal: September 10, 2000

"I went to the Russian branch again today. I suppose it doesn't matter where I go to church as long as I go, but I wanted to stay at the Russian branch instead of going to the International one because I wanted to learn more Russian and see what the Church is like in "infant" stages. But, I think a bigger reason why I wanted to go is the reason I shouldn't go. There's a missionary that I sort of have my eye on. I know i shouldn't go after a missionary (AND I WOULDN'T!) It's just that I'm afraid of distracting him from what he's out here doing. I don't even think he's noticed me that much (oh, yes he had), but we've had a couple of fun conversations (at the baptism last Sunday). I was really torn at where I should go for church, but I've decided to go to the International branch. I feel good about that."

I ended up going to the Russian branch most of the time anyway. Mostly because there was a girl we had been trying to get to go to church with us who lived in our building. Besides the casual, "Hey, how are ya?", I think Steve and I had maybe two more conversations the entire four months I was there.

This is one of my favorite pictures from being in Russia. These are some gardens in St. Petersburg. Hmm . . . that girl on the bench looks familiar. :)

The months went on and my experiences there (Steve aside) were some that I'll never forget. December rolled around, and it was time for us to leave. Ali, a girl in our group kept one of those books, similar to what a lot of missionaries have, that gets passed around right before transfers. Everyone writes a little something in it, leaves pictures, and contact information. So, Ali decided to pass her book along to the missionaries and Steve wrote in it, leaving his information with her. On our last Sunday as we were leaving, Steve came up to me and said, "I wrote my address in Ali's book. You can write me if you want."

At first I thought Ali was a giant flirt and was sort of embarrassed that she'd passed her book to them, but if it wasn't for her, and for Steve giving me the OK, I would have never kept contact with him after I'd left.

This is the only picture I have of both Steve and I while we were in Russia. From the left: three missionaries who I don't remember, Steve, Elder Parker, Ali, Elder um, going home soon, Brother & Sister Ballif, then Charlotte, Stacy, and me on the bottom.

After Christmas Steve was transferred to a different mission. The Romania-Bucharest mission includes a little Russian-speaking country called Moldova. Instead of sending Russian-speaking missionaries there, they pull missionaries from other Russian missions when they need them. Steve was chosen to go, and because the rules are different in that mission regarding email, I was able to write him that way instead of sending real mail. Every week I got a copy of the letter he wrote his family with a quick note at the top for me. And every week I wrote him back -- very cordially, no flirting. I promise.

Spring 2001

This went on for about four months. Then one week he wrote me, asking me to send him a picture. Heh. His excuse was that the girls in the English classes they taught were really flirty and he needed a picture of a girl so he could tell them he had a girlfriend. I thought, "Psh... ya right." But I sent him one anyway. Later (like after we were married) he told me that he really did have a problem with flirty girls, but the bigger reason for the picture was so he could see which girl was writing him. I had been writing him for four months and he didn't know which ILP girl I was! When he got the picture he told me that he was hoping it was me, but he wanted to be sure.

This is the picture I sent him. It was the most recent picture I had. You'd think the girls back in Moldova would have been suspicious because it wasn't a picture of Steve and me. By the way, I'm with Devin and Hilary.

Meanwhile, I was finishing up spring semester at Utah State and seriously considering a mission, which is a story in itself because I was dead set against going when I got home from Russia. The homesickness almost did me in. Here are a few thoughts I had at the time:

Nat's Journal: April 11, 2001

" . . . Another thing I've thought about, or person, rather, is Elder Perry. . . .he comes home in July, I think, which is right around the time I can put my [mission] papers in and go. You can only get to know a missionary so well when you're a girl, but I felt a connection with him that's carried over since I got home and has gotten stronger. He is so focused and dedicated on his mission -- he's amazing! Anyway, what I'm trying to get at is . . . I want to see him when he gets home, but he lives in California. I don't know if he's even given that a thought or thought about dating me when he gets home -- he's got more important things to do."

Summer 2001

I finished the semester, moved back home to Idaho and decided to put my mission papers in. I got my call on June 21 to serve in the Austria Vienna Mission. I was scheduled to leave in September. This next journal entry is basically me thinking as I'm writing. Kind of random and so like a girl. Haha.

Nat's Journal: August 12, 2001

" . . . Elder Perry, well, now I can call him "Stephen"- which is way weird - got home last month. AND he's coming to Utah in two weeks to see his favorite [mission] companion come home and go to a mission reunion - which he invited me to. PLUS -- since I'll be endowed by then, he wants to do a session at the Salt Lake Temple. AHHH! I think being there and seeing him in all-white would probably do me in. OK, that was my first thought and I wondered seriously if I'd still go [on a mission] after spending a few days with him as a regular person. Then I thought . . . if I stayed home on the chance that we would date seriously and it didn't work out between us, I would really really regret not going [on a mission]. My heart usually rules my head in situations like these, but my head is gonna have to buck up and take control this time."

I went down to Salt Lake at the end of August -- the day after my mission farewell at church and two weeks before I was to enter the Missionary Training Center (MTC).

Nat's Journal: September 4, 2001

"I found Stephen's cousin's apartment and knocked on the door. When Stephen opened it we were both a little shy. We didn't know whether to hug or shake hands so we did neither. He hadn't shaved his goatee off. It was rather cute. :)"

After spending a couple of days hanging around temple square, and basically getting to know each other in person, it was time to say good-bye. Again.

"When I woke up Wednesday morning I was sick to my stomach. Not physically sick, but emotionally. I knew that in a few hours we'd have to say good-bye. Maybe forever -- who knows? We went out for breakfast then got pics taken in front of the temple. I helped them load some stuff then he walked me across a busy street to my car. We hugged for a second then when we parted he reached over and kissed me on the cheek, and I did it back. As I was pulling into traffic I glanced over and he looked back and waved. I do miss him, but I don't 'pine away' for him. I'm trying not to let my hopes get too high in case he's not around when I get home."

Fall 2001

I reported to the MTC on September 12, 2001. Yes, the day after 9/11, and yes, the same day we got married two years later. Leaving on my mission during the wake of 9/11 is another story.

From the left: Elizabeth (Greenhalgh) Marsh (my companion), Elise Fluckiger, Erin (Langston) Lowther, and me.

I loved Austria. I loved the simplicity of the life of a missionary. All we had to worry about was sharing what we loved most -- the Gospel. We never worried about having jobs or a social life or going to school. And everything we owned fit into two suitcases.

This was taken somewhere in Vienna. From the left: Andrea (Petrilli) Gehmlich, Becca (Storrs) Rowe, me, and Becky Christensen.

Winter 2001-2002

We weren't allowed to email the first few months, and Steve wrote me occasionally by hand. He was pretty busy and all. Especially since he had a girlfriend by then. Don't worry, it's fine. It's not like we exchanged vows before I left. Things were pretty lax. I was actually kind of funny how casually he said it in his letter:

Letter from Steve: December 8, 2001

". . . Yep, I moved out here to Utah. I'm going back [to California] in a couple of weeks to see my family, friends, and girlfriend again."

And my reaction, which turned out to be sort of a spiritual experience for me:

Nat's Journal: December 25, 2001

"That morning I was worried because I was in a bad mood. (Sometimes I wake up grumpy because Sis. Appel snores all night, and I can't sleep. Anyways. . .) I knew that if I felt like that I wouldn't be able to teach with the Spirit. So I prayed and asked Heavenly Father to help me overcome this and then I studied my discussion and looked up more scriptures. That morning I got a letter from Stephen (finally) and he mentioned his 'girlfriend'. Hmm. Normally something like that would have ripped me up, but I was still happy. The fact that he has a girlfriend doesn't bug me at all. I was so excited that I wasn't upset, I couldn't stop smiling for 20-30 minutes. Then at our appointment that morning the Spirit was so strong. It was incredible."

Of course I wanted details about her, and I must have asked him because in his next letter (two months later) he wrote a whole paragraph about her. But, there must have been a serious relationship talk between the time he wrote the letter and when he mailed it because he added a P.S. to it with some comments about them sort of breaking up.

When we were finally allowed to send email, he wrote a little more frequently -- especially the last few months. He also wrote and told me that he'd enlisted in the Utah National Guard. My first thoughts were, "Psh. I told myself I'd never marry anyone in the military." Funny how things work out.

Spring 2003

I came home on March 14, 2003. Because my parents had moved while I was gone, I had to speak in my new ward and then in my old ward the next Sunday. Steve and I got in touch after I got back and because he was living in Provo at the time, it was easy for him to drive up to visit.

Nat's Journal: March 23, 2003

"Stephen is coming up this weekend! I have to speak in my old ward and he wanted to be there. I'm kind of nervous because I'm still weird and more awkward than normal around boys. And because I don't really know what he's thinking . . . but probably the same thing I am. We're still just friends, but we'll see if there's anything else."

Needless to say, he made a good impression on everyone. Especially me. :)

Nat's Journal: March 30, 2003

"When I'm with Stephen, I don't feel all giddy and girlish. I feel content and comfortable -- like the Spirit is there (such an R.M. thing to say. Ha.). He gave me a big hug and kissed me on the cheek. He is so sweet! He got along great with my family. Especially my dad. He listened while my dad told him all about the Crater (family land used for grazing that my dad takes care of), and even kicked back and watched some basketball with him."

Summer 2003

With almost weekly trips back and forth between Idaho Falls and Provo, we managed to see each other often enough to realize things were getting serious. Here are a few thoughts I had a couple of months later. (This was good for me to reread, by the way. I forget things that I learn, which is why I write them down, but it doesn't do me any good if I don't go back and read them again. :))

Nat's Journal: May 13, 2003

"So yesterday I was waiting for Hilly to get out of dance class and thinking about all of that stuff about Steve. (Apparently I'd been nervous about something.) I noticed my scriptures sitting in the backseat of the car, so I reached over, unzipped them, and a few minutes later I found myself reading in Doctrine & Covenants Section 132 - The Eternal Marriage section. I'm not sure what I was looking for -- maybe a verse that said something like, 'And ye shall marry he who thou lovest.' Actually, I don't recall even seeing the word 'love' anywhere. It talks a lot about making covenants - almost making marriage sound like a business contract. I don't remember which thoughts came first -- that's how the Lord works sometimes, how He answers our questions. A few quotes I'd heard before came to mind:

'When the Lord commanded us to love each other, He knew we had control over it.'

'Don't pray to marry the one you love; pray to love the one you marry.'

Then I thought about wedding vows and promising to love and cherish each other. It occurred to me that it's more of an active love -- not passively waiting and expecting to stay in love forever. I know I've been in and out of love and crushes and that feeling comes and goes if I don't do anything to 'nourish' it. Then I thought about how important faith is in a relationship. Having faith in each other. Then I felt a bit guilty for thinking that Steve would just dump me later. I guess my fear of being hurt killed my faith. I guess the question isn't whether or not I 'truly' love Steve or if he loves me, but whether or not we're willing to keep the love alive. As far as I'm concerned -- I could see myself spending the rest of my life with him."

As far as Steve dumping me . . . I don't think that was on his mind. I found a few journal entries he wrote around this time. Luckily this story isn't just about what was in my head. :)

Steve's Journal: June 2, 2003

"I love being around her. As I was leaving, I thought to myself, 'I don’t like doing this, I don’t want to have to leave her like this too many more times, in fact, I don’t want to do it at all.' I would love to be around her all the time. What I haven’t figured out yet is how long she has felt this way – because I’m pretty sure she feels the same that I do – I think she saw something back a long time ago, when I still had no clue. Even the first and second times that I went to see her after she got home from her mission, I had no clue where things would lead. And right now, I’m not completely sure, but if things continue on the path that they’re on, my mom can probably FINALLY leave me in peace about, 'Are you engaged yet?' I’ve really grown to love her. Don’t ask me how, but I’m getting to the point that I don’t want to be without this girl. I do love her."

One interesting aspect of our relationship is that we never had a DTR talk. We never verbally agreed not to date anyone, or how serious we were, or the possibility of us getting married.

Steve's Journal: June 13, 2003

"At work, the guys thought it was the strangest thing that we haven’t talked about marriage not one time and yet I’m so sure about this. They’re like, 'Aren’t you going to ask her what she thinks first?' I’m like, 'Nope, I already know.' And I do, there’s not a doubt in my mind. We hint to it so much, and it’s something I’m sure we both want, I have no doubts that she’ll say ‘yes.’ At work, they say, 'Man, you’ve got more guts than I had.' Ya, well, some people just know. I’ve prayed about it a few times after I got back from her house last weekend, it’s just made me more and more excited about it. Everything I’ve been through the last few months has pointed me toward her – I know it’s right and I’m so excited about it."

A week later Steve bought a ring.

July 4, 2003: Idaho Falls, ID

Nat's Journal: July 6, 2003

"We were down by the Greenbelt waiting for the fireworks to start, playing cards and listening to Wayne Richards on 97.3 (the station that choreographs music to the fireworks) and suddenly he starts talking about a guy named Stephen who was in love with a girl named Natalie from Idaho Falls. Right about then Steve made me stand up and he got on one knee. He was totally nervous and shaking a bit. I'll never forget the way he looked at me. He told me he loved me and said something like, 'I don't know how to do this', and he asked me right there to marry him. All I could say was, 'I love you' and I reached down and hugged him. I think he had the ring out and asked me if I wanted to see it. He slipped it onto my finger and then he's like, 'Is that yes?' and I shouted, 'YES!' Then he picked me up and swung me around in a big hug."

We had originally thought about a December wedding, but opted (at the end of July) for September 12. There was a possibility of Steve getting deployed that fall and we wanted to make sure it wouldn't interfere with the wedding. (At that point, I think I was in denial. I really didn't think he'd ever have to go.)

By the time we nailed down a date, there wasn't time to get professional engagement pictures taken, so a friend of mine went with us to drive around Idaho Falls looking for something a little picturesque. The pictures weren't digital, so they don't look as good scanned in. We hadn't joined the 21st century yet.

Luckily our photographer had joined the 21st century. I couldn't have been happier with the pictures she gave us. All 1500 of them.

Happy Anniversary, Sweetie.

And here we are now -- five years, four addresses, two college diplomas, and 1.5 children later.