Discretionary Caution Observed

I am feeling remotely free for this small space of time...a benefit to all who read this post because I am about to admit something that very few people know and even less want to find out about. I usually use discretion...not wanting to enhance the common opinion about me...but like I said I, for the moment am feeling free. Congrats.

I am fascinated at watching and observing how people handle things that come up in life. How they handle grief or change or hardships or blessings. I love to watch the resiliency in some and feel sad for those who don't handle things well. Oddly and even more fascinating to me is how I handle the above. I am not so great with change, hate grief, could give up hardships and I lackadaisically handle blessings.

The most poignant memory for me (and here come the beans spilling all over the floor) was a bed full of laundry. I remember, being fairly newly married, walking into our mobile home bedroom and seeing our bed with hundreds of thousands of clothes laying, heaping, and needing to be folded and put away. I remember the hate boiling up. Is this what my life had come to...a meaningless heap of laundry? I considered walking away. I pondered ignoring. I hoped for help and despised the reality.

But then came the resiliency. I squared my shoulders, straightened my shirt, replaced a fallen strand of hair, and became a talk show host. Yep. The third grade imagination came at me with full force. It was Chersten's Sharing Show...an eclectic mixture of ideas and expertise to help with the hum drum of daily life. I began the hour expressing my disdain for laundry and how I had found a way to fold and organize my clothing in a way that was not only satisfying to me but to the very clothes I had once had bad feelings for. I showed how to fold the fitted sheets, and the shirts, and how to properly hang those dress pants for optimum non wrinklage. The show was well received...I was an icon in the folding industry and best of all the hundreds of thousands of clothing items were all put away nicely, organized, and with love.

The sad thing, is that this has translated over to many aspects of my life. I also have a cooking show, an organization show, a cleaning and scrubbing hour, and many more I choose not to divulge.

We all handle things that come up in life very differently, mine just happens to be a little schizophrenic in nature.

Oh my gosh...I can feel the free feeling seeping out of me...I must hurry and publish this
before I wimp out.

a simple card...

I once got a card in the mail with a beautiful Thomas Kinkade picture of a cottage and a light house on the front. On the inside of the card, with beautiful cursive writing, I read the following:

"Hi Chersten,
This is a picture of your future home along the Oregon Coast" (I have always wanted to live by the Oregon Coast)
"I just wanted to send you a little note and thank you for who you are and what you do for Jared. We really enjoyed having Taelor. He has such a neat personality he gets from his mother.
At any rate, we love you, respect you and appreciate you.
Love Grandpa Wright"

This was from my father-in-law.

My father-in-law passed away this summer after a two year battle with brain cancer.

He was my seminary teacher in high school. He always knew how to make you feel good about yourself because he would compliment you in such a casual way that you would go away feeling better about who you were and not realize why.

He was faithful and kind...willing to do anything for anybody.

He could lighten the mood with a single comment...sending people who had just moments before been heated to smiling despite themselves.

The card I received was a simple expression of his love for others, his willingness to accept others with open arms, and his thoughtfullness. To be honest, heaven doesn't seem quite so far away any more and knowing that he is there makes death not seem so tragic.

I am grateful that I had "Bro. Wright" as a seminary teacher...that will never change.

But now, I feel overwhelmed and humbled that I was able to have Chadwin Spencer Wright as my father-in-law...and my friend.

Mom of the Year

For some time now, I have been in the running for the mom of the year award. Some doubted and some speculated....but today it is official. I have long deserved it.

How? you ask.

Please refer to the April 10th post. It tells all.

It happened again.

A masters degree...

Jared has graduated with his master's degree. I am so proud of him. Here are a few pics.

Halli Droppings

I remember when my uncle got my brother to eat a deer dropping by telling him they were deer vitamin. To this day I don't know why that would entice him to eat one, but he did.

Today I had a flashback.

Halli's digestive system as of late has been rebelling against all of the solid foods I have been feeding her. I will stop there...no further explanation needed right? After I changed her diaper, I had to run in the other room to find something Jared needed in a hurry. When I came back into the living room, I found that Halli had opened that diaper (do you see where this is going?) and was eating...yes eating her "Halli droppings". This picture is very similar to the look I had on my face when I saw the atrocious scene.

Did you know you can find out quite the plethora of info from poison control? Apparently it isn't so bad to eat...never mind.

For the love of red vines

The Gottas and the Wannas

There is a dilemma I face each day. The dilemma is as follows: trying to find the balance between the gottas and the wannas.

Each day I do a lot of gottas, but wish I were doing the wannas, but if I do the wannas, I feel guilty that I'm not doing the gottas. You know what I mean...gottas include washing, cleaning, sweeping, paying, shopping, wiping, dressing, mopping, organizing, planning, sanitizing, folding, exercising and many other "ings".

The wannas are much more colorful and full of fun. Eating a bowl of ice cream, attacking that book I got from the library, taking a nap, working on the blog, talking on the phone, shopping for stuff we don't need, sitting down to play the piano, reading the funnies in the reader's digest, painting toenails, going out to lunch, and so on.

Now, this is the part of the blog where I sum up the problem and bundle it into a neat little solution...but to be honest...I don't have one. It is just one big gotta/wanna mess.



I better go clean.

Our Christmas card...if you will

Taelor's view

I think it is fasinating to see things through a child's eyes. The following picture is how Taelor feels the people and animals present at that first Christmas were positioned. You know...I think he just might be right.