Erichsen-Webster 2013 Final Exam

Some of you received a hard copy of this in snail mail, but for those who did not (and because I want a copy of it saved in this blog), here is our Christmas letter this year:

Erichsen-Webster Family 2013 Final Exam

Directions - Part I: Please respond to the following questions by circling the letter of the correct answer:

1. Eli will return from two years of service in the Arkansas Little Rock Mission in

1. Mid-March
2. Mid-April
3. Mid-May
4. Mid-June

2. Shulamith’s husband Mathew graduated this month (Dec. 2013) from the University of Utah with a bachelor’s degree in

1. English
2. Accounting
3. Nursing

     d. Mass Communications

3. Isaiah will graduate in May with a bachelor’s degree in Computer Science from

1. The University of Utah
2. Westminster College
3. Willamette University
4. The University of Montana

4. Baby Swen will become a big brother when a new baby joins the Webster-Monson Family in early

1. May
2. June
3. July
4. August

5. If you want to know more details about the Erichsen-Websters, you can

1. Add Terrianne or Gerald as a friend on Facebook
2. Email terrianne.webster@gmail.com or erichsen@warpmail.net
3. Follow Terrianne’s blog at itslegs.blogspot.com
4. All of the above

6. Seth loves music and plays the following instruments:

1. Cello and flute
2. Piano and trombone
3. Violin and harp
4. Clarinet and piano

7. Gerald’s About.com, Spanish-language website is now in its

1. 14^th year
2. 15^th year
3. 16^th year
4. 17^th year

8. Terrianne enjoys being mostly an at-home mom but also teaches a couple classes at

1. LDS Business College
2. Salt Lake Community College
3. BYU Salt Lake Center
4. Stevens-Henager College

9. Seth is a student at Union Middle School in the

1. 6^th grade
2. 7^th grade
3. 8^th grade
4. 9^th grade

10. The Webster-Monson family still lives downstairs in our daylight basement apartment, and Terrianne hopes they move out

1. In one year
2. In five years
3. In ten years
4. Never

11. The Erichsen-Valentine Family still lives in Indiana, where Luke is doing an internship for his fifth and final year of a PhD program at Indiana University in

a. English

b. Education Psychology

c. Marine Biology

d. Engineering

12. Luke and Désirée's daughter Evelyn is in

a. Preschool

b. Kindergarten

c. 1^st grade

d. 2^nd grade

Part II - Please indicate whether the following statements are true or false:

1. Eli doesn’t want his mission to be over, but we here at home are counting down the days until he comes home.

1. True
2. False

2. This time around, Terrianne plans to gain the same 10 sympathy pounds she gained during Shulamith’s first pregnancy (and had to lose afterward).

1. True
2. False

3. Terrianne thought up this idea for a Christmas letter all by herself, without her friend Trudy’s help.

1. True
2. False
   
   
   
   

4. Seth serves as the Deacons’ Quorum president in our ward and is finishing up his Star rank in Scouts and his Deacon Duty to God certificate.

1. True
2. False

5. Shulamith loves being a stay-at-home mom with Swen, enjoying every single moment of his growth and development.

a. True

b. False

6. Terrianne, Gerald, Isaiah, Eli, Seth, Shulamith, Mathew, Swen, Luke, Désirée, and Evelyn all wish you a joyous holiday season as we celebrate the Savior's birth and look forward to 2014 with renewed hope.

a. True

b. False

Answer Key: 1-A, 2-D, 3-B, 4-C, 5-D, 6-B, 7-C, 8-A, 9-C, 10-D, 11-B, 12-C 1-A, 2-B, 3-B, 4-A, 5-A, 6-A

Remember that one time when Seth got a Wii-U for Christmas?

Oh wait, that was actually just yesterday. Back story: he asked for a Wii-U last year, but we opted for other gifts instead. Once again this year, the first item on his Christmas list was the Wii-U, and my decision to get it was rather impulsive. In October, I had a bit of money left after paying the bills (a rare occurrence), and I said to Gerald, "I'm going to go buy Seth a Wii-U unless you talk me out of it in the next five minutes." He didn't. Off I went. And that was that. Next came the dilemma of how/when/where to give it to him in order that it would be a TOTAL surprise. I know some parents tell their kids what they are getting for Christmas, or least don't worry too much if they find out. I even know moms who take their kids with them to pick out their presents and then wrap them up anyway, even though the kids know exactly what they are. No judgement here; all families are different. But in my world, Christmas presents must be complete, full on surprises or they don't count as Christmas presents.

So Shulamith and I began plotting how we might handle this surprise, but every time we had an idea, it seemed like Seth was one step ahead of us. Maybe we would give it to him as his one Christmas Eve gift, which is typically something small like candy or a blanket. About the time we thought of that idea, Seth popped up entirely out of the blue with "What if you decided to give me my best present on Christmas Eve?" What??? Maybe we would write a note and put it in the toe of his stocking. We do stockings last, so it would be his very last gift. "Remember that year you put video-games in my stocking? I love it when the best surprises are in my stocking." Are you freakin' kidding me, Seth?

Aaaaarrrrruuuuuggggghhhh!!!

We had to do better. And ultimately, we did, but let's take a look at the day from start to finish. We told everyone we would start at 9:00 a.m., and he should stay in bed until then. But at 9:00, the only people awake were Gerald, Shulamith, Swen, and I. We took our traditional pictures in matching jammies and waited for Isaiah, Seth and Matt.

It didn't take too long, and soon we were all up and gathered around the tree. Seth was delighted with his "Santa" gifts: a bungee chair, Mt. Dew Code Red, and Pringles.

 We open gifts slowly, one at a time, so it takes a while. Here are some highlights:

 Mathew's new clippers

Isaiah's computer speaker

My drug of choice

Boots for Shulamith

And her Petunia Picklebottom diaper bag

Laptop for Gerald

Baby Swen's Lego

And they bought each other the same thing!

And all too soon, though I'm pretty sure Mathew would disagree, the gifts were unwrapped, and the tree was bare once again. I guess one advantage of celebrating Christmas one day late is that stores are open everywhere, and somewhere in the middle of our marathon gift opening, Matt slipped out to do some last-minute shopping of his own. And what do you suppose he brought back? Guess away.

Just as I thought we might relax, eat some delicious holiday food, listen to some chill Christmas music, possibly take a nap, ALL CHAOS BROKE LOOSE IN MY HOUSE! It was like a war zone. Shulamith came in my room to warn me: "Stay in here. It's dangerous out there!" Mathew had bought Isaiah and Seth rubber bows and arrows. No, I'm not kidding. He really did. And the result of that was the two of them chasing each other all around the house, jumping over things, shooting each other, arrows flying everywhere. Lovely.

By this point, I was ready to leave, which was actually great timing because Shulamith and I were about to take Swen to his first movie. The guys had all seen their Christmas movie the day before, so we were off to see Frozen. Now I want you to know just how politically incorrect this is going to be, but well, honesty trumps political correctness, and when have I worried about that anyway? I really, strongly, emphatically dislike animated movies. All of them. I didn't even like them when I was a kid, and I strategically worked it out so I hardly had to watch any with my own chidren. When Luke and Shulamith were little, my mom took them to all the kids' movies. When Isaiah and Eli were little, I paid Luke and Shulamith to take them. When Seth was little, I paid Isaiah and Eli. And it occurred to me to pay Seth to watch Frozen with Swen so Shulamith and I could see a good movie, but Seth was fully involved chasing Isaiah around the house with a bow and arrow, so I didn't even ask.

Armed with popcorn and (most importantly) large, ice-cold Diet Cokes, we sat down in the theatre. Swen was mesmerized by the giant movie screen. He lasted clear until the final 15 minutes, when he wanted to get up and move around, which was amazing considering I was ready to get up and move around after about two minutes. Seriously, it was the longest 90-minute movie ever. For the life of me, I don't see what people find appealing about cartoons. Anyway, I know how much everyone else loved this movie, so I'm obviously in a tiny minority, and what else is new? Here we are to document Swen's first movie experience:

So that was a huge digression, complete with pictures and commentary, but let me return to the original story. Remember that one time when Seth got a Wii-U for Christmas?

The plan was set in motion. Gerald would have the Wii-U, and the game we got to go with it, in the car with him at work. When he was about to leave to come home (around midnight), he would call Shulamith and me, so we'd wake up and be waiting. Then when he got home, he'd wait outside the front door and text Seth, asking him to come let him in. When Seth opened the door, he would find Gerald with gifts in arms. The plan went flawlessly, well except for the part where I nearly forgot to get the Wii-U and game out from under my bed and into the car. Someone remembered in time, but I couldn't use the front door because Seth was sitting in the living room, so I had to carry everything out the back and down the ice-covered, very slippery, steep spiral stairway that leads from our deck down to Shulamith and Matt's patio. I really thought I wasn't going to make it without falling, but fate was on my side.

And late last night, Seth received his last present, his brand new Wii-U. He was one happy kid.

And I'm pretty sure Isaiah was at least as happy as he was.

And there you have it, another great Christmas in the history of the Erichsen-Websters.

Relax, Seth. I'm pretty sure they'll all still be there tomorrow...

It's quiet here today. Really quiet. We chose to postpone our Christmas celebration one day this year, so for us, it's not really Christmas yet; it's Christmas Eve! Last night, after last-minute shopping, Shulamith and Swen and I rode Trax downtown to walk through the lights on Temple Square. Swen pretty much hated Trax, but he loved the lights. I did too!

Then, early this morning, 6:00 a.m. to be exact, Shulamith texted "Rise and Shine!" Swen was awake, so she brought him up in order to let Matt sleep, and she and I ate chocolate eclairs and watched Hostages. Possibly a new tradition?

I do love tradition. In fact, that's the reason we decided to celebrate tomorrow. Our Christmas traditions take the whole day. So today, Shulamith can be with the Monson Family, and tomorrow she can be here. Our traditions actually start Christmas Eve, when we eat something yummy, read the Christmas story from the scriptures, open one gift each, and frost cookies for Santa. That will all happen tonight. Then in the morning, let the fun begin! Recently on Facebook, I saw this question: All at once or one at a time? (meaning does your family open their gifts all at once, or one person at a time?) We most definitely fall into the latter category. One. At. A. Time. And S-L-O-W-L-Y! I control the speed by handing out the presents myself. Bahahaha! I want to see every single person open every single gift. And I do. And it take hours. Literally. And I love it. The longer the better. But I think poor Mathew nearly rescinded his marriage proposal the first time he experienced this four years ago. He doesn't particularly enjoy Christmas to begin with, and our marathon morning celebration was a bit more than he bargained for, like three or four hours more! We are SO glad he decided to marry Shulamith anyway; we love him.

Sometime in the middle of gift opening, we take a break for breakfast and then carry on. Then in the afternoon, we prepare lots of appetizers, finger foods, and sweet treats. We don't do a formal dinner on Christmas, just easy stuff, so we don't spend Christmas in the kitchen. By then most of the males in the family are fully involved playing their new video-games and wouldn't stop for something as insignificant as Christmas dinner anyway, so it's easier just to snack. In the late afternoon or evening we go to the movies. We used to struggle to find just the right movie that would appeal to everyone, but we finally gave up on that, and now we often find ourselves watching different movies in the same theatre. You can't talk in movies anyway, right?

But this year, Gerald has to work tomorrow night and won't be here for the movie tradition, so just now he and Isaiah and Seth left to go see The Hobbit. Having zero interest in The Hobbit, I am here alone. It's weird. With seven of us living here, I am never alone in the house. It's quiet. Really quiet. I wondered how I might feel about that, being all alone for a few hours on Christmas Day. Would it make me sad, even knowing that our real Christmas is tomorrow? So far, though, I feel just fine about it. I'm listening to Celine Dion sing "O Holy Night." I'm sipping a cold Diet Coke. Kitty is basking in the sunshine that streams through our front window. I'm blogging in peace. It's all good. And it's gonna get even better around 3:00 when I log onto Skype and see the face and hear the voice of my favorite missionary. By then, Shulamith will be home, and the guys will be back from the movie. We will all be here to love on Eli for a full 40 minutes. I cannot even wait! 

As you might expect, Seth was less than enthusiastic about waiting a day to celebrate and has made his feelings known multiple times in the past 24 hours. Sorry, Seth! I know it's not your favorite plan, but it's the best option this year.

And all those presents?

Yeah, I'm pretty sure they'll all still be there tomorrow.

'Tis the Season for Bits and Pieces of Joy

I sit wrapped in a blanket, essays on my lap. My semester grades are due tomorrow, and I have just a few papers left to read before I can click "submit" in my grading program and be totally done. But exhaustion has taken over, and no longer can I offer students a "fair read," so I'll stop and finish in the morning.

Thoughts of the season surround me. It has come quickly, too quickly, perhaps because Thanksgiving was so late this year? Every day has felt rushed. I haven't had the time I usually do to relax and take in the sights and sounds of the season. Maybe now that I'm completely done with school and nearly done with shopping I might find that time? I can hope.

Despite non-stop activity from the time I step out of bed in the morning until I fall back in at night, a few bits and pieces of joy, a few beautiful "Christmas season 2013" memories have resulted, and others not so beautiful, but still worth recording. A couple weeks ago I got this bee in my bonnet that I needed to make Eli a paper Christmas tree complete with paper ornaments with personal messages and pictures from all his friends. Frankly, I often feel terribly inadequate as a missionary mom. You should see what these other moms do. One mom hand sewed an Advent calendar with an embroidered scripture messages for each day. Another one sent 12 individually-wrapped gifts, so her elder would have a new gift to open on each of the 12 days of Christmas. Another mom wrapped her missionary's Christmas box with pictures of him from all 20 Christmases of his life. Another one sent a fully-decorated tree for her elder's apartment, along with a variety of other festive decorations. And here I thought I was doing great just to get Eli's gifts packed up in a brown box and delivered to the UPS office in enough time that they guaranteed delivery by Christmas.

But back to the paper tree. Okay, may I speak freely here? You are my friends, right? And you know me. Some of you know me well. Some of you have known me for a long, long time. The next time I get some crazy idea to do a craft project, I need you to intervene. I need you to tell me straight up: "Terrianne. You cannot do this. You can do many things, but you CANNOT do THIS!" I am counting on you. Don't forget.

So I posted on Facebook, on Eli's wall and on mine, that I needed personal messages and permission to steal FB photos from anyone who wanted to participate. That was the easy part, and the response was incredible. Eli is loved by many. But then I had to actually make the tree. Help! I bought green butcher paper, and before literally butchering it, I attempted to draw the shape of a Christmas tree. I tried on one side and then the other, then again on the original side, but nothing looked even remotely like a tree. Finally, Shulamith took over and drew me a tree, and I cut it out. Done. Then, putting aside my personal hatred for all things sticky, I glued the photos onto the ornaments (red stockings), and Shulamith wrote the greetings on the back.

Then, one by one, I taped all the photo ornaments onto the tree and thought, "Wow, I did it!"

And I felt incredible joy for about three seconds until I realized there would be no practical way to mail this thing in its current form. It would not roll up; it would not fold up. The stocking ornaments were not flexible enough. In that moment I mostly wanted to give the entire thing to Swen to tear up into tiny pieces and then throw each piece into his favorite toy on earth: the garbage can. And I came just this close to doing exactly that except I felt sad for all the friends who so willingly contributed. Tears streaming down my face, I carefully un-taped each stocking photo ornament from the tree, and then drove to the store and stuffed the whole thing, folded up tree and ornaments alike, into a mailer and sent it off. I was not happy with this. I'm still not.

Fortunately, not every day was this frustrating. One bit of joy came when Seth and I (with intermittent help from Shulamith) decorated our Christmas tree. I have some advice for all those who want it. If you're going to have a capstone child seven years after your other four, make sure you have one as kind and delightful and overall wonderful as Seth Webster Erichsen. Just sayin'. I sat with my feet up, Christmas music playing in the background, and unwrapped our precious family ornaments. Seth took them, one by one, and as we discussed the history of each, placed them strategically on the tree. Once he finished, we dimmed the lights and sat frozen in time for a few seconds admiring the beauty before us. Bits and pieces of joy.

Last Sunday, I had the privilege to speak in Sacrament Meeting on the Restoration, a perfect topic for a missionary mom and also for someone who spends many hours out helping the sister missionaries. The few days leading up to Sunday, I decided to invite a couple of our investigators to church. Of course the sisters already do that every week, but I extended a special invitation since I would be speaking. Both agreed to come. One actually did! What a thrill to be seated up on the stand and to see him walk in with our Ward Mission Leader. Bits and pieces of joy.

Another occurred just a couple days ago when the first real storm of the season came our way. I struggle mightily with the air quality (or lack thereof) here in the valley. My allergies react terribly to something called the "inversion." I don't fully understand the science of it, but I sure do know when it's happening, and it's been awful this fall. I cough and cough and cough. My sinuses ache. My throat tightens. And of course my anxiety tells me I'm dying of some exotic disease. But somehow precipitation clears out this crappy air, and Thursday morning I walked outside to a classic winter wonderland, took a deep breath, and felt miraculously better. Bits and pieces of joy.

Then just yesterday, Shulamith and I took our sons to visit Santa.We weren't sure what Swen would think of the guy in the red suit, but Seth was willing to help in any way he could. Theirs is a blessed relationship, Seth and Swen. I didn't know how Seth would react to new baby in the family, having been the "baby" himself for 12 years. But he fell in love with Swen right from the start, and the feeling is completely mutual. They are tight for sure. In fact, Seth holds the record for getting Swen to sleep in the shortest amount of time, just 10 minutes. "How do you do it?" we ask, we who have spent 40, 50, 60 and more minutes in that room trying to convince Swen to go to sleep. "I just stand by his crib and sing him 'ba, ba, ba,' and he lies down and goes to sleep." Well of course you do! Shulamith, why haven't we ever thought of that? Ha! Swen wasn't at all impressed with Santa, but we still got this great picture.

With just over four days to wait, may we  all slow down just a bit, long enough to focus our eyes on the manger and the birth of him who would forever change the world, one heart at a time. May we look past the hustle of last-minute shopping, holiday food prep, and countless other Christmas tasks, that we may have time to discover the bits and pieces of joy.

A Mother's Arms are Filled with Many Things

Around 10:00 on Thanksgiving morning, just as I finished watching the Macy's Parade and dreaming of the day Shulamith and I can visit New York City and see it in person, I headed out to the convenience store down the street to get a newspaper for the Black Friday ads and Diet Cokes on ice for Shulamith and me. For the record, we generally wait until later in the day to drink Diet Coke; in the morning we really try to drink water. But holidays are exceptions, right? Right. It would not have occurred to me to take Shulamith's baby with me on this little jaunt, except that for some reason, he really wanted to go. He wanted to go so much that he literally followed me down the stairs, sliding on his tummy like toddlers do, and then attempted to follow me out the door, waving bye-bye to everyone in the house. Well what could I do if it was that important to him? I picked him up and put him in the car.

Inside the store, I put him down to fill our drinks and grab the newspaper, and as I was paying, I wondered just how difficult it might be to get back out to my car with two large Diet Cokes, a giant newspaper filled with Black Friday ads, and Swen! Just as I decided I would need to make two trips, a kind man behind me said, "I'll carry those drinks out for you," and he picked them right up. On our way out to my car, he continued, "A mother's arms are filled with many things."

Indeed they are. In this case, he meant that literally, and it's true literally; it's often so very true. Our arms are filled with dishes and laundry and irons and toys and homework and backpacks and lunch boxes and missing socks and, of course, babies! But it also occurred to me that this man's statement is also true figuratively. A mother's arms are filled with many things:

Sometimes, they are filled with worry. Yesterday was the first real storm of the season, and we awoke to a blanket of beautiful white snow but also treacherous driving conditions. I immediately thought about Isaiah, whose car doesn't handle all that well in the snow, driving to school and work and wherever else he needed to go. I texted him. I did. I try really, really hard not to bother my adult children with texts and calls. I rarely initiate contact with any of them; I figure they'll get in touch with me if they want to. But in this case, I deviated from that standard and texted Isaiah. Because I was worried. He texted right back saying he was indeed out and, yes, road conditions were awful, but he was being careful. A mother's arms are sometimes filled with worry.

Other times they are filled with angst. It's not exactly the same as worry. It's that feeling of dread just before our children are about to perform in a recital or play in a soccer game or cheer at a state tournament or dance in The Nutcracker. We so desperately want them to do well, to excel in their chosen activity, and most importantly to feel good about it. We say a silent prayer for them, and we sit frozen on the edge of our seats. I experienced this feeling just last night at Seth's holiday piano recital. He had worked so hard on his two pieces, and I wanted that effort to be rewarded with his best performance. It was. He played beautifully. But as always, I sat with my hands clinched together, praying for every single note to be correct. A mother's arms are sometimes filled with angst.

Other times they are filled with pride and joy. Whether its our kindergartner dressed as a shepherd in the Christmas pageant, our 3rd grader playing Ebenezer Scrooge in his class production of A Christmas Carol, our 8th grader representing his school at the state spelling bee, or our senior in high school singing a solo in his high school's production of Brigadoon, nothing fully describes the joy that fills our bodies from head to toe as we watch our children do whatever it is they do. Even when we don't get to watch in person, the feeling is the same. Just the other day, a church member from Tennessee, whose friend is taking the missionary discussions, posted a picture of Eli at church with this gentleman, and included these words: "I'm so grateful I can trust my friends Elders Webster and Hadlock to teach my friend, Tom, the truths of the restored gospel." Yes, sometimes a mother's hands are filled with pride and joy.

Other times they are filled with sorrow. As the saying goes, "A mother is only ever as happy as her saddest child." If we could, we would shield them from all of it. All the pain. All the disappointment. All the fear. All the judgment. All the danger. We would gladly take it all ourselves if we could only protect them. But of course that's not possible, so instead we live it right along with them. We hurt when they hurt. We cry when they cry. We are their advocates always, their soft place to fall, their forever friends.

Always, our hands are filled with gratitude. Though it is the hardest job we will ever do, much harder than we ever imagined, motherhood is the best job, the very best, and every day we give thanks for the opportunity to raise these precious children. And always, our hands are filled with hope because no one sees more clearly the potential in these beautiful little people than we, their moms. And always, our hands are filled with love, a love like no other, a love we never before thought ourselves capable of. For sure, it's the closest thing in life to understanding God.

A mother's hands are filled with many things.

I Am Thankful, Indeed!

 It is now nearly 11:00 p.m. on Thanksgiving night. The house is quiet, other than the occasional shout from Seth's bedroom where he and Isaiah are playing video-games. I am tired. It's a good kind of tired, the kind that comes from a full day of fun, but I'm tired nonetheless. This will be my final "thankful" post of 2013. I'm thankful for many things this day. For one, I'm thankful for sweet sister missionaries, who stopped by today just to take this photo (above) for us.

Also, after moving our Thanksgiving dinner and celebration to a different day for the past three years in order to accommodate various schedules, I'm thankful we got to have Thanksgiving on the "real" day this year. Moving the day worked out okay, and I expect we will do it again some year if need be, but this year it was just really nice to celebrate Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving. Really nice.

I'm thankful for extra help cooking! Shulamith and I always cook Thanksgiving dinner together, but today we had extra help from her baby, Swen.

I'm thankful for food that actually turned out. This doesn't happen often. See, who says Shulamith and I can't be "Mollys" if we want to?

I'm thankful for this pretty table. When you only set the table about once a year, you have to make it count.

I'm thankful for Black Friday sales, which for some reason now begin on Thursday. And yes, I realize there is quite a lot of controversy surrounding the retail industry choosing to open its doors on Thanksgiving afternoon, rather than waiting until Friday morning. How do I feel about this? I guess I wish they would wait until Friday. However, my conviction was not strong enough to keep me out of the stores today. You see, I have five children for whom I need to buy Christmas gifts, on a limited budget. And a sale is a sale is a sale! So about 5:30, Shulamith and Swen and I braved the crowds in attempt to get just a few outstanding deals. Here we are waiting outside Target in a crazy long line:

We will still go tomorrow morning, just not as early as we usually do. We will still get hot chocolate at Starbucks. We will still get breakfast at McDonald's. We just won't do these things at 6:00 a.m. We will shop and eat and laugh and shop some more. We will listen to the first noon Christmas concert of the season. It will be good. It will be very good. And it will be soon since it's now already nearly 11:30. I'd better go to sleep.

Lastly, I'm thankful to every one of you who reads my blog. It makes me happy that others enjoy what I write. Happy, happy Thanksgiving to all! 

The Power of Intermittent Reinforcement

Psychologists tell us that intermittent reinforcement is the strongest of all types. Indeed, it keeps the casinos in Las Vegas thriving. It keeps the convenience store in Malad, Idaho, just over the Utah/Idaho state line, in business, with Utahns eager to buy lottery tickets, which cannot be purchased in Utah. But since I don't gamble or buy lottery tickets, I never fully understood the power of intermittent reinforcement. Until now.

You see, I own this "possessed" computer. It turns on when it wants to. When it doesn't want to, sucks for me. It doesn't matter if I have a set of grades to enter, or an email to write to my missionary, or my bank account to balance, or a blog post to upload, or some simple Facebook time to waste; if the thing doesn't want to turn on, it won't. And just how long will it be before it comes on again? Who knows? It might be a couple minutes. It might be a couple hours. It might be a couple days. But always, at some point, it comes back on. Yep, intermittent reinforcement, aka "hope."

Intermittent reinforcement provides hope. It worked before. It will work again. I just need to keep trying. I won before. I will win again. I just need to keep playing. I totally get it now. Twice in the past few months, Gerald has texted me, "It's totally dead now. Forever. Seriously." But both times it has mysteriously resurrected, and yes, it is the very computer I am typing on right this second.

This is SO frustrating. I need a computer that works, not some of the time, not most of the time, but all of the time. And were it not for intermittent reinforcement, that is if I didn't know it would eventually come back on, I would have replaced it months ago. Earlier today, I nearly tossed it out the window with the sentiment "WOULD YOU JUST DIE ALREADY?!"

So Saturday, Gerald and I went to Best Buy to look at alternatives. I'm drawn to the new tablets that convert to laptops. Way cool! We looked at the Microsoft Surface Pro, but Gerald also thought I should check out the Asus Transformer T-100, which is brand new. Best Buy had received stock but had not yet set up a display, so I have to wait a couple days to try it.

It's okay. Because for right now, my computer is working. Until it decides not to.

Intermittent Reinforcement - clearly the strongest of all types.

Speed Dating

One of my missionary mom friends recently wrote as her Facebook status: "I just got home from speed dating, aka middle school parent-teacher conferences." I laughed out loud. I had just that night returned from "speed dating" myself. I had circulated the gym of Seth's middle school, visiting seven different teachers, each for between 5 and 10 minutes, and then moving on. It was tiring enough for me; just imagine how exhausting it must have been for those poor teachers, who had been at school since 7:30 that morning, making a 12-hour day. Yikes!

As I was walking from "date" to "date," I overheard one mom say to her husband (I presume), "Let's go see the P.E. teacher. Maybe we can find some good news there." In that moment, I stopped momentarily and thanked Heavenly Father that all my children have been such good students. I honestly have no idea how it would feel to encounter bad news at a parent-teacher conference. I knew Seth was doing well academically because we already had his grades from the first trimester. Nope, he didn't quite reach his goal of all A's; he got one B+ in Utah History because it's "so boring." Ah well.

More important than grades, though, it was pure delight to hear all the kind comments from Seth's teachers. One "date" after the other, they spoke of a wonderful kid, so cooperative, so helpful, with such a great attitude and mature sense of humor. Yep, that's my Seth! The whole experience was any mom's dream. I was particularly interested in two "dates":

Because Seth had a difficult experience last year in P.E., and because this year has been so much different, I was anxious to "date" his P.E. teacher. I walked up to his table, sat down across from him, speed dating style, and said, "I'm Seth Erichsen's mom." Without even a pause, he replied: "Seth! Superstar athlete. Best kid ever." Wait...no. No. "You must be thinking of someone else," I countered. "He's definitely not a superstar athlete," to which he responded, "In my class, if a kid shows up, dresses out for P.E., maintains a positive attitude and tries his best every day, he's a superstar athlete to me." Enough said.

I quickly moved on to my final "speed date," the science teacher. I was especially interested in "dating" her because of Seth's constant, unadulterated praise. According to Seth, she is the "best teacher in the entire world," the best one he has ever had in any grade in any subject the whole eight years he has been in school. Now you'd have to know Seth to know that this says a lot, a whole lot. Seth does not just hand out compliments willy nilly; he is not easy to impress. But this teacher clearly has his attention, and I wanted to know why. Aside from the fact that he finished the trimester with 104.5% in her class, I could see right away why he likes her so much. She was energetic (even at nearly 8:00 p.m on "speed dating" night) and so enthusiastic about her curriculum that even I was interested in science, I, a full on, right-brained, touchy-feely English major!

About then the clock struck 8:00 p.m., and the "dating" was over. Until next time.

Here Ya Go, Gerald and Shulamith!

I always get the sweetest positive comments about my blog posts from both Gerald and Shulamith. They are my cheerleaders; they read every word, and they always like what I write. Unfortunately, this was not the case with my most recent post. "Why not?" you might ask. Turns out they felt left out because I didn't mention the two of them in the list of what I was thankful for. I explained that it was just one "thankful" post, that there would be others. I also reminded them that I didn't mention all our family members in that post either, only Seth. But apparently, these explanations were not sufficient.

Therefore, here is my second "thankful" post, a tribute to Gerald and Shulamith, because truly, I am grateful beyond belief for these two people.

 Let's begin with Gerald:

Most of all, I am thankful for the kind and gentle father he is to our children. They will never know memories of a dad who dealt harshly with them, not ever, not in any way. They know for sure that always, from the time they were tiny right up to now, they have his unwavering and constant support. They never have to wonder whose side he's on as they face an often unjust and unkind world. He is on their side. Always. He is eager to help them with whatever they need, whenever they need it, even with math assignments in the early morning. Just today I awoke to find him and Seth at the kitchen counter working through Seth's math homework. Shulamith claims she would never have made it through high school chemistry without her dad to talk her through the problems and formulas. I can edit their essays till the cows come home, but higher math and chemistry I cannot do.

I'm thankful for his willingness to work so hard to support our family, so I can be primarily an at-home mom and raise our children, even when that means he needs two jobs. That is a rare gift these days. Even now, when our youngest is 13, I value the privilege to work only very part time.

I am grateful for his natural spelling ability. Not kidding. I tell my students when they are in the market for a spouse, they should first consider character,  personal testimony of the Gospel, commitment to righteous principles, sense of humor, and yes...physical attraction. But they also might want to consider adding spelling ability to the list. I can't begin to tell you how handy it is to be able to say "How do you spell _______________?" and instantly have the word spelled for me. Seriously convenient!

I am also so thankful for his knowledge and understanding of all things political. Whenever I have a question or need something explained to me, he can do it in a way that I understand. It helps that we agree about politics; it would be tough for me to be married to someone with differing views. 

I am thankful for his testimony of the Gospel and his constancy in living its principles.This has provided a solid role model for our children throughout their lives.

Now to Shulamith:

I am thankful for the sweet, funny, optimistic person that she is. The glass is always half full in her world. I am not like that, and I admire it in her.

I'm grateful for her amazing problem-solving skills. Whenever I have a problem, she has the answer. She somehow always knows a way to work it out perfectly. The girl is seriously Olivia Pope II. (Note, if you don't watch Scandal, you should!)

I'm forever grateful for her help raising my children. That might sound funny, but I honestly don't know how I ever had children before I had her to help me raise them. When Isaiah was born, she was five. From the very start, she was my little Mommy's Helper, and it was the same when Eli was born two years later, and to this day she feels quite "motherly" toward both of them. When she was 14, I had Seth, and she was automatically his second mommy. I hope I have been able to partially repay her this past year and a half with her own little baby.

Mostly, I'm thankful she grew up to be my best friend. Neither of us was blessed with sisters, although I gave it my best shot to get her one, so I think we fulfill that sister/friend role for each other. It's the best. Our days are not that exciting, mostly just the normal stuff of living, but everything we do is more fun together.

So there ya go, Gerald and Shulamith. You are now included in my "thankful" blogs.

Thankful, Just Not Every Day

Many of my Facebook friends are sharing something they are thankful for as their statuses each day in November. While I think this is a wonderful idea and I love reading what they write, I opt not to do that myself. I am thankful. Just not every day. Wait, no. That's not right. I'm thankful every day; I'm just not going to post about it every day. There we go. Whew!

Instead, I will just do it whenever I happen to feel like it. Maybe even now.

Tonight, I'm especially thankful for Seth, who lies across the room from me on the couch, all set to read scriptures whenever I'm ready. Together, he and I have read the Book of Mormon this year, well almost. We will finish on Dec. 31st. Both of us have learned much and grown closer to the Savior and to each other.

I am also thankful for the sweet dog who lies next to him. Kitty is the most patient creature I know. Never does she complain, even when Baby Swen (who is learning body parts) pokes her in the eyes and nose and mouth and says, "eyes, nose, mouth."

I am thankful for persistent, hardworking students, who have been emailing me back and forth all evening, working to get their thesis statements crafted and approved so they can draft essays. This is not easy for them, and they don't give up!

I am thankful for the Internet, for so many reasons, but most importantly so I can email my missionary every Monday, so he knows I love him and think about him always.

I am thankful for the vast array of technology, including the Internet, which makes it possible for me to be in touch with my friends, even though they don't live near me. I still feel isolated sometimes, but not nearly as much as I would without all these wonderful tools.

I am thankful for Christmas music, which is already playing at my house and in my car (my own Pandora Christmas station) and on my piano, as Seth learns his music for the Christmas recital.

I am thankful for a long walk in the rain yesterday morning. I was able to be out for an entire hour, and it never stopped raining. How lovely!

I am thankful that See's was sold out of maple pecan bon bons tonight when Seth and I stopped by, because I am on my healthy eating plan between my birthday and Thanksgiving, so I couldn't have had one anyway.

I am thankful for my warm, comfortable bed and for sleep, one of my very favorite activities. I think it's time now.

I will write more about the many things I'm thankful for. Just not every day.

The Wrong Side of the Door OR Making New Halloween Traditions

This was the second year I have not taken a child trick-or-treating. Last year, Seth asked if he could go with his friends. He was 12 and in the 7th grade. It was time. So dressed as a fairy in a pink tutu and looking every bit as ridiculous as that sounds, off he went with a group of his friends from church. I waved goodbye, longingly, the words "Be safe; watch for cars!" on my lips. For 25 years in a row, I had taken one or more of my children trick-or-treating. How could it be over?

One year later, I'm still not fond of this whole deal. It doesn't feel right. But instead of whining any further, I decided to take control of the situation and make some new Halloween traditions. I am moving forward. Halloween can still be fun, right? Who am I trying to convince? Yep, myself.

First tradition, breakfast at Einstein's to start the day. With a blueberry bagel in one hand and a nana in the other, Swen was momentarily distracted from the garbage can. He prefers garbage cans to just about anything else in the world.

Next stop was Target to do some early Christmas shopping. Oooh, I am so excited! I know, I know. Lots of people don't even want to hear the word "Christmas" this early, but for me, the season cannot come fast enough. The music, the decorations, the lights, the presents---I love everything! Wait. Okay, yes. It's still October. The spotlight is Halloween and new traditions. Stay focused, Terrianne. We headed home to get Swen down for his nap. Once he was sound asleep with Gerald upstairs to listen for him, we were off to our next new Halloween tradition: massages. Ahhhhhhh!

How relaxed and refreshed do we look, even with oily hair (mine, that is; Shulamith was smart enough to tie hers back) and wearing workout clothes? If I were wealthy, massage is a luxury I would indulge in regularly. I am not. Instead, we do it maybe twice a year, and from now on, Halloween will be one of those times.

We ate lunch and arrived home barely in time for me to go teach one lesson with the sisters before the next new tradition: trick-or-treating at the mall. This was my only chance to be with Seth for just a bit before he left for a night of intense candy retrieval and consumption. He looks in pretty bad shape here. His "back story" is how he was hit by a car and thrown 30 feel into the air. I think this is a tribute to the time back in December when he actually was hit by a car, though he escaped that incident virtually unscathed.

All too soon we were home again, Seth was gone, and tiny goblins of all varieties were ringing my doorbell, one after the other. It was so weird. Each time I answered, I thought, "I'm on the wrong side of the door. I'm supposed to be out there on the sidewalk watching my kids trick-or-treat. This is all just very wrong."

Forward. New Halloween traditions. I can do this.

It is now 9:30. The doorbell has ceased ringing. I sit in a way too quiet home, my lighted witch glowing in the window, my depleted bowl of candy on the coffee table. I await Seth's safe return, anxious to hear his Halloween tales, every last one. Seth. My baby. My very last child. My brand new teenager, who no longer needs his mom to take him trick-or-treating.

Knocking with conviction OR "This is what being on a mission is all about!"

Many of you are probably thinking, "Why is she writing about missionary work yet again?" It's true, three of my five posts so far in October have related to missions. I wasn't intending to post this today, or to post anything at all for that matter. But then I received Eli's weekly p-day email.

As you know, I've been helping out our sister missionaries a lot lately; almost every day I go out and do something with them. Though I always had some idea what missionaries do, never until now did I fully recognize the entirety of their commitment, the endless hours walking up and down the same streets, riding bikes, knocking on doors, talking to people with a boldness that I, myself, lack. Last night we were out fairly late (for them), around 8:30. We went to the door of a lady we talked to last week. She was sweet and receptive, but her daughter, who lives with her, told us the following day that Pat wasn't interested in the Church. The sisters would like to hear that from Pat directly, so back we went last night. I might have been a bit hesitant after the conversation we had with the daughter. I might have knocked lightly. But not Sister Gonzales. She walked right up to the door and knocked with conviction. When no one answered, she did it again. No fear. Only the purest desire that all may have the invitation to come unto Christ.

Gerald and I always said that we would never force a kid out on a mission. Missions are difficult enough even when you want to go. The days are long, and there is much rejection. But the blessings are exponential! We were thrilled when Luke decided to serve, but we for sure waited until it was completely his idea. Eli has always desired to serve a mission. From the time he was a little boy, this was his goal, his plan, his expectation. So just days after his 19th birthday, he entered the MTC. That was 19 months ago, and it has been everything and more than he hoped for. The love he has for the work, the gospel, the people of Tennessee, his companions, his mission president, his family at home, and the Savior, grows with each passing day. It radiates through his weekly emails. On Saturday he had the privilege to attend the Memphis, Tennessee Temple with two people he taught and baptized over a year ago, when he served in Blytheville, Arkansas. I would like to share with you his thoughts about that:

"The temple was AMAZING! Words cannot even describe how I felt there. Getting to see two friends experience the blessings of the temple; there's nothing better. There were 5 people there going through for their own endowment. A couple who got sealed right after the session, a young man preparing to go on a mission, and Phyllis and John. I will attach pictures to this email of them. This is what being on a mission is all about. Sharing with people the joy that I have felt from this gospel by helping them make sacred covenants. I don't know how else to describe it except amazing! Wonderful! I did not see Sister Lowe there, but I saw lots of other people from the Blytheville Ward there to support Phyllis and John. Something else that's awesome is that Phyllis's brother James, who I baptized, will hopefully be sustained and receive the Melchizedek Priesthood at Stake Conference next month and is preparing to go through the temple shortly after. So Stake Conference is November 10th, and they are planning on having him go sometime in November. Transfers are on the 20th of November, so if he goes through the temple before then, or if I stay in Arlington or get transferred somewhere somewhat near the temple, I'll get to go with him!! That was a mouthful, hopefully that all makes sense.  

So the best part about the temple was after the session, Phyllis came up to me in the Celestial Room with tears in her eyes and said, "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." I got tears in my eyes too. I'm so glad I am on a mission right now! I wouldn't rather be anywhere else! It's like that plaque you have says something like, "A missionary is someone who leaves his family for 2 years so that others can be together with their families for eternity." Hopefully someday Phyllis will be sealed to her daughters and her deceased husband. There's a bunch of family history work that she can do now too so that her ancestors can receive saving ordinances as well. The church is true!!"

I wonder if some of my missionary mom friends have tears in their eyes just as I do. 

And I promise, next post will be on a different topic than missionary work. Thanks for hangin' in there with me.  :-)

Why are there so many rules?

A couple days ago I was out with our sweet sister missionaries. It was Sister Faumuina's last night with us; she would transfer to Murray the following day. If you click on the above link, you can see a picture of her, the sister on the left. We spent much of the evening dropping by various homes, so she could say goodbye to investigators and friends. One investigator in particular was curious about where she was going and why. He had many questions:

• Can you come back and visit? (Not unless I happen to be called back to this area.)
• Can I call you on the phone? (No, but you can call Sis. Gonzales and her new companion.)
• But you'll still be coming to this same church building on Sundays, right? (No. I'll be attending a ward in Murray.)
• Can I at least give you a hug goodbye? (No, just a handshake.)
• WHY ARE THERE SO MANY RULES?!

I smiled to myself when I heard him ask this question. I am a person who doesn't much like being told what to do. I'm very thankful for the gift of free agency, and I very much like using mine. Let me elaborate. I dislike being told what to do so much that if I'm at a stoplight and someone honks at me, I proceed to drive just as slowly as I can (yep, about 5 mph) for as long as that car is stuck behind me. I know, right? Incredibly mature.

Why are there so many rules, he wanted to know? I went home that evening and began to ponder. Why are mission rules, in particular, so rigid? Why can I only talk to my son twice a year? Why does he have to keep his hair so short and wear a white shirt and tie every day? Why does he have to get up at 6:30 a.m.? I could go on and on. I decided that, while many if not all of these rules surely have a genuine and worthy reason, and if I thought hard enough, I could maybe even figure out what it is, perhaps the most compelling reason for all the rules is the principle of obedience.

Yep, simple obedience. When we learn to be obedient, especially when doing so involves sacrifice, we become more like the Savior, who in pure obedience sacrificed his very life for each of us. Tonight, Sister Gonzales and her new companion and I visited again with this same investigator. He is an awesome guy, and the sisters would very much like him to commit to a baptism date. He explained that his unwillingness to commit is largely because of his issue with green tea. "Why can't I drink green tea? It's good for me!" This man lives a healthy lifestyle, eats well, exercises regularly, and truly cares for his body. And he's convinced that green tea is healthy.

In all honesty, I can't tell you whether it's healthy or not. I've never researched it. I know it's against the Word of Wisdom, our church's law of health. And I choose to obey. For me, following this part of the law requires little sacrifice because I've never actually tasted green tea, so I have no idea if it's good. But I hope I would choose to obey regardless. When we choose to obey, and particularly when that act of obedience requires sacrifice, we strengthen our resistance to temptation, we fortify ourselves spiritually, and we grow to be more like Christ. That's plenty enough reason for me.

Nope, I don't like to be told what to do. I never have, and I likely never will. But I'm willing to obey, even when that sometimes means making a sacrifice, because the blessings of obedience are worth it. I hope and pray that this particular investigator, whom I have come to truly care about, will soon decide that the blessings of baptism are well worth any sacrifice, including living the Word of Wisdom, even when he doesn't fully understand the reason for every part of it.

That said, I still don't recommend honking at me at a stoplight.

Like Brother, Like Brother

On this cool, October morning, Seth awoke at 7:30 a.m., showered, dressed, and waited patiently until I got up at 8:00. I don't think I've seen him awake before noon on a Saturday in at least a year. Why this day? This day was the release Pokemon X, a 3DS game Seth pre-ordered using his precious babysitting cash. I took him to breakfast at Kneader's, then on to GameStop, where I waited in my warm car while he waited in a cold line for the store to open at 9:00.

He comes from a long tradition of video-gamers. I remember Christmas of 1999. It was the first year a video-game system found its way into our home, in this case the Nintendo Game Boy Color. Eight-year-old Isaiah had wished for it with a child's desperate longing, never imagining one could ever really be his. But I was on a mission, and it took exactly that to get one of these things; they were extremely popular that year! I had visited several stores, and the story was the same: when a shipment of the hand-held Game Boy Color consoles comes in, every one of them is sold in less than an hour. What was a Christmas mom like me to do? And a pregnant one, at that! Yep, Seth was with me on this endeavor, though he knew it not. I was about three months' pregnant at the time.

After searching countless stores with zero success, I finally appealed to the mercy of a kind salesman at GameStop in the mall in Burlington. "My eight-year-old really wants one of these. And he has no idea he might get one. And it will be the best surprise ever. Is there any way you can help me?" He took pity and offered to take my name and phone number. As soon as a shipment came in, he would call me. If I could get over there before they were gone, one would be mine. I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday when that phone call came. They received three units: one pink, one yellow, and one teal blue. "I'm on my way. Be there in 10 minutes. PLEASE save me either the yellow or the teal. I don't think he wants pink."

I was in my car and on the road in a matter of seconds. Ten minutes later, I held in my hands what would be the best surprise of Christmas morning: a shiny, teal blue, Game Boy Color. It would be the last gift Isaiah opened. I wouldn't even put it under the tree ahead of time. He would think he had opened everything, and then I'd bring out this one last gift. It went flawlessly. The surprise was everything and more than I anticipated. Isaiah looked at me with those giant, ocean-blue eyes with thick, dark eyelashes, his mouth wide open, and once he could speak, said in astonishment, "A GAME BOY COLOR! YOU GOT ME A GAME BOY COLOR?"

For the next three months, he played, but never by himself. Sprawled over him constantly was six-year-old Eli, straining every muscle he had to see the screen in Isaiah's hands. Isaiah was so patient. He never told Eli he couldn't watch. He never pushed him away. He never complained. March 13th was Eli's seventh birthday. He had a face full of chicken pox and had been home from school all day, miserable and itchy, a sad way to spend a birthday. But you should have witnessed the attitude transformation when he opened his only present, a bright yellow Game Boy Color. Let the gaming begin!

That was 13 years ago. Since then, Isaiah and Eli have bought, sold, and traded a wide array of gaming systems, along with countless games. I can't begin to remember all their names, but one stands out in particular. On November 19, 2006, Nintendo released its latest and greatest game system: the Wii! It was anxiously anticipated by gamers everywhere, including my two teenage sons, then 15 and 13. In order to get one on that very day, you had to pre-order it and then go to the store, take a number, and wait in line all day until midnight when it was released. Yep, Isaiah and Eli did just that. Walmart, my least favorite store on the planet, had set up an entire room in the back just for these people who would be squatting there all day. I stopped by several times, bringing sustenance to my waiting children in the form of candy, soda, and a McDonald's dinner. By midnight, I was home in bed, but even then it took the boys three more hours to get their game system because they had to wait for their number to be called. Eventually, they made it home, but of course they couldn't just put the thing away and go to bed. No way!

Seth was born into this world. Wait, actually he was part of this gaming world even before he was born, as he unknowingly accompanied me in my quest for that elusive Game Boy Color for my Isaiah-pie all those years ago. No surprise, Seth joined right in just as soon as he was old enough to hold a controller. He can play with the best of them and does so regularly. This new game he bought yesterday is played on the hand-held Nintendo 3DS, a few generations past Isaiah's first Game Boy Color.

I'll say straight up that, personally, I don't love video-games. In truth, I've never played one but I don't think I'd like them. I don't like animated-type stuff, and I really hate violence. Plus, I'm painfully awful at games of any kind; from board games to card games to electronic word games, I totally suck! When I play games, I lose so badly that I often wonder if I am mentally challenged but no one has had the nerve to tell me? So it's not likely I'd excel playing video-games, and in addition, they are crazy addictive. That said, video-games have created a bond among Isaiah, Eli, and Seth, which has now extended to Mathew. Though spread out 14 years from oldest to youngest, they are connected. For that, I am thankful. Admittedly, I get frustrated with the constant gaming, but even so, I do not regret going to the store on that cold day in 1999 and begging that nice GameStop salesman to save me a Game Boy Color.

Like brother, like brother.

What Eli says...

So this is really just an addendum to my post from yesterday about missionaries, but when I received Elder Webster's email this afternoon, I couldn't resist blogging one paragraph in his own words. Lots of missionary moms create entire blogs just for their missionaries, where they post all their letters, along with pictures, etc. I don't do that; I just have this one blog, which Gerald calls a "mommy blog" although I don't always only post about my children, right? Anyway, even if I tried, I could not replicate the "voice" in Eli's letter today. He cracks us up:

 "Halloween is an awesome holiday, but at the same time it sucks. Because once Halloween hits, then boom! It's November already, then Thanksgiving, then all of a sudden it's Christmas season! Then it's Christmas, then bam!! 2013 is over. And then Elder Webster is sad, because not long into 2014 he goes home. It just seems that once Halloween hits, then the rest of the year just zooms by. It's crazy."

 

What is the deal, Elder? You NEVER want to come home? Shouldn't he be at least a little bit homesick by now? It's been 18 1/2 months! We miss him. Anyway, I thought you might enjoy Eli's perception of Halloween and why it's an awesome holiday but also sucks.

Gettin' My "Missionary" On!

Several years ago, around 2009-ish (?), we were living in Billings, Montana and members of the Skyview Ward. Back then, there weren't as many sister missionaries as there are now, so it was super exciting when two special young ladies came to serve our ward, Sisters Engstrom and Buchanan. Because they were female, they needed sisters from the ward to drive them places, go on exchanges, fellowship investigators, etc. Hooray! I happen to just love this sort of thing. They were both awesome missionaries, but Sis. Engstrom finished her mission and went home shortly after coming to our ward, while Sis. Buchanan was brand new, so we got to keep her a bit longer. I had the opportunity to get to know her family a bit (through Facebook), and just recently, I was able to attend her wedding reception.

Fast forward four years. With the change in age requirements for missionaries, the number of sisters serving missions is increasing dramatically! Pictured above are two amazing sisters, now serving our ward here in Utah, Sisters Faumuina and Gonzales. How cute are they!? And once again, sisters from the ward are needed to help them. Lucky for me, I'm available almost all the time! They invite me to go with them often, and it's always the best part of my day. Today we visited an awesome guy, who is working to get approval from the city council for his very large home to be used to house troubled teenage boys. What a worthy pursuit! I pray he is successful. Tomorrow evening, we get to meet once again with a family across the street from my house, a mom and dad and their 14-month-old little girl. Missionary work is the best!

Of course I'm not a real missionary. I don't have a name tag. I don't have a bike. I don't get up at 6:30 a.m. (thank heavens!). I can watch TV and use the Internet and go to movies and have a job. But in case you haven't heard, we do have a real missionary in our family, serving in Arkansas/Tennessee. I haven't written too much about him lately, and it's high time I did. Elder Webster has been out just over 18 months. In his words: "I'm at my 18-month point. That means I only have six months left. Which sucks." Yep, he really likes his mission, and he doesn't want it to end. He and I aren't exactly on the same page there; I, personally, CANNOT WAIT for it to be March.

Yesterday we received an actual snail mail letter from Elder Webster. Rarely does that happen; usually, we just get our weekly p-day email. He took the time to hand write us a letter this week because something wonderful happened that he wanted to share. Four individuals, whom he was involved in teaching and baptizing early in his mission, are now preparing to go to the temple next month. He asked the mission president if he might be allowed to attend with them, and President said yes! Elder Webster is beyond thrilled. How incredible for him to see firsthand the fruits of his labor. We are overjoyed for him and so proud.

Meanwhile, I keep trying to do my part right here. I love to help our sisters, and it means even more to me knowing there are kind members in Tennessee doing the same for Eli.