Put me in Coach!

When you think of great coaches, names like Mike Krzyzewski, Tony La Russa or Vince Lombardi usually come to mind. They are famous and have had successful and long careers as coaches. What was it that made them so great and successful?

I think it's a combination of things.

Coach K focuses on making individual players become better teamates.

Tony La Russa had been a player and leads by example. He had been where his players are.

Vince Lombardi was a great motivator and leader. Even if a player thought it impossible, Coach Lombardi pushed him and worked him until he believed.

They took the best of a player and made him even better.

My brother Rob is a coach.

He coaches his boys' teams and loves it. He's a great football coach.

But he's an even better 'life coach'.

He is the oldest of 7 children. He's been the Neal Armstrong for all of us that came after.

He has always just naturally led. He was the first for everything.

He has been 'watched' for 40 years. He's handled that pressure well.

From the time I was teeny tiny, I have loved Rob. I have known that he was there for me. I have never doubted that he was watching out for me.

Like Coach K, he has always tried to make people better.

When I was a very awkward 7th grader trying to figure out where I fit in, Rob was a very popular Junior in High School. He had the most beautiful girl friends that would come to our house. I'm sure they felt stalked as I lurked in the corner admiring their big hair and big shoulder pads. A couple of these lovely girls were Angie Tueller and Gina Gyllenskog. (Don't their names just make them sound pretty?) anyway, these girls had younger sisters who were in my grade and I'm sure had no idea who I was. I found out much later that my sweet brother had encouraged (begged) Natalie and Kim to be nice to me and try and include me in their cool group. I'm sure the last thing they wanted was a 'project' worthy of a John Hughes plot line but nevertheless, they included me in their tightknit group and I am still friends with those girls to this day. Those girls also helped keep me on the straight and narrow and made my teenage years not only bearable but downright enjoyable.

I love the fact that baseball is the only sport where the 'coach' dresses up like the players.

(I mean, can you even imagine Jerry Sloan in short shorts and high tops?)

But in baseball it somehow works. The manager looks like one of the team. He's one of them.

Tony La Russa was a player before he was a manager.

He knew what it was like to strike out, miss an easy play, or score a homerun.

His players knew he wasn't perfect. They also knew that he didn't quit.

He knew how to overcome mistakes.

I have sat through hundreds of talks and classes and lectures on repentance and forgiveness.

They have been true and good.

But I will never forget when I truly learned what it meant to be sorry for something.

To feel it deep in your soul.

We were having Family Home Evening and Rob was sitting under the living room window. He had hair, (it was even permed). He had on his pink izod shirt that was my favorite. We were talking (I can't even remember the topic) when Rob started to cry. I don't mean the pretty Demi Moore one tear down the cheek cry, I mean the Ugly, lip quiverying cry. He then told us about skipping out on church to go to Troy Haslam's house to jump on his tramp. I know that probably sounds silly but he was genuinely sorry that he had done that. He hadn't been caught, nobody probably would have even found out...he was just sorry.

That has been the most effective lesson on repentance I have ever had. Whenever I feel the need to repent (daily) I think, "Am I 'jumping on Troy Haslam's tramp' sorry?"

I know that Rob will always have on the same uniform as me.

That's comforting.

Vince Lombardi is the coach that people who don't know coaches still know.

He's famous for his inspiring words and the way he motivated his players.

Rob has always been motivated. He missed many camping trips to be tortured during 3-a-Days. He worked to be able to help pay for his mission. He is very dedicated and works like crazy to support his family. He is very loyal and protective of his family. He knows what it takes to be successful. And he's survived at least 6 life-threatening incidents.

He is here for a purpose.

And my kids love when he talks like a duck.

While it may sound like I think Rob is perfect..I know he is not..

But Coach Lombardi said it best:

"Perfection is not attainable. But if we chase perfection, we can catch excellence.

"After all the cheer have died down and the stadium is empty, after the headlines have been written and after you are back in the quiet of your room and the championship ring has been placed on the dresser and after all the pomp and fanfare have faded, the enduring hting that is left is the dedication to doing with our lives the very best we can to make the world a better place in which to live."

Happy Birthday to my favorite coach.

Thanks for making the world and the people in it a little bit better.

Love you!

Shopping karma

So it never fails that I pick the wrong line at the store.

Doesn't matter if the lady in front of me has 2 items or 102 items,

I always end up waiting.

It's like some evil witch put a curse on me when I stole a

candy bar at the checkout when I was 7.

(to this day I can't eat a Snicker's without a twinge of guilt)

I will always pick the wrong line to wait in.

This summer as I watched my cute girls pretend to shop at the

children's museum I realized that my horrible curse has been

passed on to my innocent children.

Such a tragedy.

The one where I'm humbled.

So this morning I woke up to get ready for church. I looked outside and saw the several new inches of fresh, heavy snow. My shoulders fell a little and I just wanted to get back into my warm bed. The thought of getting my five little ones ready and out the door by 8:55 a.m. was daunting.

I was having an unusually bad hair day. I didn't love my outfit. Olivia didn't like how I did her hair and Ethan didn't like my breakfast choice of cold cereal. Lindsay couldn't find her other dress boot and Tyson would not let Makenna get him dressed. I was frustrated and half thought to myself...would anyone even notice if we just stayed home?

Anyway, we got it all together and managed to get to our bench with a few minutes to spare. (even though I got snow in my shoe and now my toes were cold.)

As I sat there trying to keep the kids noise level at a dull roar, I heard a plunk and then a dragging noise. Again, and then again. I turned around to see a beautiful woman with silver hair pushing her walker down the aisle. She wore a pretty red coat and comfy shoes over her nude colored hosiery. She was assisted by another white haired beauty and came to sit in the row in front of us. I found out that these ladies were the speaker's mother and grandmother.

She was 96 years old.

As I sat behind her and looked at her newly curled hair and noticed her wrinkled hands, I wondered what efforts she had put forth to get ready for this special day. She had to drive in that horrible snow and then get from the car to the building using a walker.

I was instantly overcome with gratitude for the opportunity I had to be there at church to worship the Savior and feel of the spirit. My hair didn't seem as bad and I didn't feel quite as frumpy as I had before. I thought of all the people in the world who walk for miles to get to church. People who go to church alone without any family. People who don't even know about Jesus Christ. I was sufficiently humbled and I'm so grateful for the sweet little stranger who strengthened my testimony simply by making the decision to get out of her warm bed.

Anticipation

So my sweet 9 year old Makenna found an old roll of film in a box the other day.
She held it up and with the utmost sincerity asked, "Mom, what the heck is this?"
I tried to explain it and then finally just went and got the memory card out of the digital camera and she knew what I was talking about.

Uhm....holy cow!!

I remember my first camera. I was maybe 14 and I got it for Christmas. I felt very grown up.
I recall learning carefully how to load the film into the camera. I also learned (by mistake) that you must not open the camera until the entire roll of film has been used. I took my little camera with me everywhere. But I only took it out for special occasions because you know, it only had 24 exposures. (sometimes you even squeezed 25 out of it.) It usually took me about a month to fill up the roll. (I didn't want to waste any of those precious exposures on just anyone or anything). Sometimes it would be so long that I would actually forget what was at the beginning of the roll.
Anyhoo, then you would take the roll of film to the store where you would fill out an envelope with your info on it. You would carefully slide the film into the envelope, seal it up and put it in the slot. Then you would wait 7 days while it was sent out to be developed at some other location. Finally, you would pedal on up to the store to retreive your photos. You'd hand over your hard earned baby-sitting cash and then you would start to undo the package even before you were out of the store. You would eagarly flip through the glossy prints only to be dissapointed that the picture you sneakily took of that cute boy you liked was out of focus. Oh man, the one of you and your best friends at Lagoon has half of your heads cut off. And that one where your hair was really cute that day and you looked super skinny?......yep, your eyes were closed.
And then there was that blasted red eye. Future generations will probably come to the conclusion that most people who lived during the last half of the 20th century were possessed by demons and surrounded by some hazy darkness.
And then, if you had to make a copy of a picture...yeah, you had to search through all of the negatives until you found it and then had to go and repeat the process all over again...and pay for it again.
Enter the Digital camera.
My four year old not only knows how to take a picture, he can look at it instantly and edit. He decides right then and there if he should delete it. He can tell if Daddy was looking off instead of at the camera. He knows immediately if Lindsay's eyes are closed. He can ask Olivia to smile instead of make a goofy face. He can take as many shots of the same pose as he wants. He is armed with a memory card. And then you take it to your computer, download, edit, enlarge, and print. You can even send a copy off to Grandma. It's relatively instant.
"Oh, you have to have an 'I am Special' poster?....tomorrow morning? No sweat. Let's head to the office and print off your life in 5 minutes."
No waiting.
But also no anticipation.

I vividly remember waiting in line for 20 minutes to buy tickets to Jurassic Park. Then we waited another hour and a half in line before it even started so we didn't end up on the front row with a headache and vertigo.
Now you can buy your movie tickets in your pajamas, 3 weeks before it even comes out. You show up 2 minutes before it starts and find your seat. It's convenient with 5 kids that's for sure.
We can order something and have it shipped to our home OVERNIGHT.
That's like...mind-boggling when you really think about it. Things used to take weeks or months.
It's all very convenient and fast and gives us more time to hurry up and quickly do other things.
The last time I was getting my oil changed, (at Wal-Mart...don't tell Greg.) the guy in front of me was like freaking out that it was going to take them 20 minutes to change the oil in his car.
"I can't believe it takes that long." And he threw himself into a chair and pulled out his phone and laptop and spent his time in the virtual world.
I sat in my chair and watched a little 70ish year old couple wander aimlessly around the windshield wipers and floor mats and giggled at the mental picture of Greg and I shopping for car accessories in 40 years.
I flipped through a golf magazine and hoped that Ethan or Tyson would grow up to be a professional golfer. (Lots of money, low risk of injury...good choice). I watched Tyson study two ants crawl around on the floor, (I know, gross). He was fascinated.
Now I'm not implying that my time was spent more wisely than the other guy's. I like my electronic life as much as anyone. I just enjoyed my stay at Wal-Lube a little more I think.
So my question is this.
Are we losing the joy of anticipation? The excitement of waiting for something. The appreciation that comes after receiving. The simple virtue of patience.
Is it so wrong to slow down and just....*gasp* wait?
I guess it's a good thing we still have Christmas and the first day of school right?
Oh, and the Tooth Fairy...she's always good for some excitement.
(when she shows up. We have a crappy Tooth Fairy.
She has severe memory loss, she's totally inconsistent and she's kind of a cheapskate.)

Hello?.....is anyone there?

(the instructions on this phone go as follows:

EMERGENCY TELEPHONE

Dial 999 for constable and Police, Fire, and Ambulance).

Obviously the instruction printing people did not get the memo to the
emergency phone making people.
But what about the guy who puts the instructions on the phone?
What's his excuse?
Hopefully, you have not just been attacked by a bear.
Hopefully, you are not bleeding profusely when you come upon this beacon of hope.
I really shouldn't judge.
This sort of thing happens to me quite often.
You know, you pack your 1st grader's book report in your 4th grader's back-pack.
You show up for the neighborhood party with your
potato salad the night after it happened.
You tell your husband "I'm fine Honey, I promise"
and then get secretly annoyed when he
doesn't pick up on your "I'm bugged" attitude.

How many times have I offered to be there to help someone
but then left the attitude of a wrong number?
We don't even mean to or know we're doing it.

We say things like,
"Let me know if you need me to bring something."
instead of, "I will bring a salad or do you need a dessert instead?"

"You're having surgery? Let me know if you need help."
instead of, "Oh, you're having surgery?
Would you rather have me over on Wednesday or Thursday to help?"

How many times has someone been "bleeding" for help but didn't
call me because they didn't think I was sincere in my offer?
I would be willing to help anyone, I really would
but do they know that I would?
I'm going to try this more often so hopefully,
people will KNOW that when they call on me for help,

that I will not only answer the call, but that I will
be happy to drive the rescue truck.
Here's to being in-tune.

Not today Bird!!!!

"Perseverance means to continue in a given course until we have reached a goal or objective, regardless of obstacles, opposition, and other counter influences...Perseverance is a positive, active characteristic...It gives us hope by helping us realize that the righteous suffer no failure except in giving up and no longer trying."
--Joseph B. Wirthlin, "Never Give Up", Ensign, Nov. 1987, 8

"Gimme, Gimme"

Whatever her mama put in her cereal....I need to get me some.

I'm a little more like the little sister in the background.

Here's to 'liking' everything today.

Self-esteem, your table is ready.

So lately I've been feeling a little blah, blah, bleeh about myself.

My hair is giving me this "you're not the boss of me" attitude and I just can't regain control. Not that I'm not used to this. I get it every single day from Olivia. She recently perfected the "over the shoulder, eye-roll as she's walking away" look.


She's five. No kidding I did not prompt her. I simply asked her to clean her room while I was holding the camera and this is what she did.

Every day is pretty much a really bad hair day. Right around 4 months after I have a baby, my hair decides it no longer wants to be a part of my life and packs it's bags and storms off in a childish huff. It's an ugly break-up for everyone involved. It falls out by the handfuls and it causes me daily stress and anxiety.
But, as bad as I think it is, it is not this nightmare.







On top of that I just can't seem to shake the extra baby poundage. I know, I know...I can hear you saying it. "You've just had your 5th baby, relax, give it a minute, you'll lose it, don't worry." I know all that and it sounds good and all but in the back of my mind there is this annoying little creature running around saying things like "neener, neener..you'll never fit into that fav swim suit again" or the equally depressing, "hello, meet your new best friend, the swimsuit cover-up. You'll never go anywhere without her."




If only that little creature would run around in other people's minds as well.



I've also felt a teeny tiny bit...okay TOTALLY, COMPLETELY disorganized with my time. It's noon or later sometimes when I finally hop in the shower. And don't tell, but sometimes I jump in and *gasp* I don't wash my hair. And then there are days when I simply throw on some clean clothes and spray myself with Fabreeze and then avoid close proximity with anyone who smells like strawberries or coconut.

Still, I am not attracting insects who's sole purpose in life is to eat as much rotting matter as possible before they die.
You can go throw up now.......really...I'll wait.




And then there's the brain damage that has apparently occurred. I find myself having difficulty with the simplest of tasks. And it seems that recently they started introducing Rocket Science to 2nd graders and trying to pass it off as simple math. How dare they. And my memory..don't even get me started on that. Uhm...what were we just talking about? Hmm.
But at least I get to be stupid and forgetful in the privacy of my home in front of small children. This sad lady got to be stupid and do so for a much larger and harsher audience. Poor thing. I wonder how many times Regis asked her if that was her final answer.


For quite a while after I have a baby I feel like I look pretty Frumpy most of the time. I try my best but I just don't feel like the Fashion Diva I would like to be.
But then just when I'm afraid I've hit rock-bottom with the fashion sense and good taste......





Yep ladies. That's just what you think it is.
My question is this. SERIOUSLY???




So even though I'm feeling a little like a slug at the moment, at least I can be grateful there's not a snot-nosed 7 year old boy standing over me with a giant salt shaker.

Hope you feel good today.
Here's to common sense and good taste.