What’s your man got to do with me?
February 6, 2013
Dear Darling Daughters,
Today, I had the good fortune of running into some of my favorite people and just shooting the breeze together for a delightfully long time. As we were talking, my remarkable and phenomenal-mother-friend mentioned that she points out to her daughters the goodness of their father regularly and reminds them that NOT all men are as good of a guy as he is. I thought to myself, “Self! Have you let your girls know recently what the heck to look for in a husband?” I know I’ve told you how great your dad is. I hope you want a man just like him. OK – not JUST just like him because that would be a little weird to have 3 freckly, engineer son-in-laws…I mean, how would I ever keep their names straight?
But I have often worried you might pick dud husbands. I suppose this is every mother’s worry for her favorite daughters. Well, one of the worries. The list is long. But I worry about this particular subject for many reasons.
Reasons to worry your daughter will pick a dud husband
1. My experience is that life is replete with incredible women who did, in fact, pick dud husbands.
2. Picking a husband is nothing like picking out an outfit. And I have seen how you pick out outfits and fear you might try to find a man in the same way. Spousal selection is not a time to “make a statement” or “go with the trends” or to “be avant-garde.” You can’t wad him up and throw him in the Goodwill bag when the season has passed. Marriage is more like picking a men’s suit. You want good quality fabric. Excellent tailoring. Clean lines. No crazy lapels. Something cuff-link-worthy, but not required. Something that will stand the test of time.
3. Naiveté. You all are growing up in a home with a rather remarkable father. I don’t mean to brag, but seriously, I done good. And I often worry you think ALL men will be as good and kind and hard-working as your own dad. A lot are. Many many many are. And some are not – just like some young ladies are not. But when you believe someone is good and kind and hard-working and they end up being a dud, it can break your heart and leave you a whole different kind of girl.
So! What to look for in a future spouse? Let’s make a list. You girls can add to it. I know I will forget many things. This list is in no particular order – number one isn’t necessarily more important than the last number. Rank ’em how you like.
1. Is he kind?
By “kind” I don’t just mean he doesn’t hiss at kitty cats when he passes them. Does he listen to children when they tell him stories? Does he smile at the cashier? It doesn’t have to be a big cheesy grin….but if he ignores the cashier, take pause. Is he good to old people? Daddy is a flirt with older ladies. It makes me laugh. But he will often take a moment to make a little old lady smile. You can’t look at that and not feel proud that that sort of man is with you. If he is kind to others, he will be kind to you when you most need it. And you will need kindness. The world is so hard. Many times unkindness flows right at me and the only soft spot I might have in a day or week is you girls and Daddy. Make that a priority for yourself.
2. Does he communicate well?
So listen, girls are tricky communicators. No not ALL girls and heaven knows I try to give you ladies better skills than I have. But for the LOVE don’t hook yourself to a man who cannot express himself in an appropriate way. When you are thinking about a spouse, remember the hardest, most stressful, most uncomfortable things you will need to discuss in life are going to happen with HIM. Can you tell him? Will he understand? Will he want to know?
Your father and I are different as night and day about many things. Because of that, we take a lot of time to understand the other one’s point of view. There are times I can tell Daddy is bored outta his gourd at the start of one of my stories but I just HAVE to tell someone. And that man will stand there and focus and absorb it until he is interested and it fills my whole dang heart. Do you want that for your life? Maybe you can settle for the brooder or grunter-style man. I could not. I needed someone who really heard me and valued my opinion. Think about that. Daddy is my easiest relationship because we have spent years working on communicating well. You will have to work at communication and it is absolutely pivotal in a marriage – so be willing to work at it! But also, know what you need.
3. Can you be your most YOU?
I learned this lesson just right before I met Daddy. And hallelujah that I did. And I mean
HALLELUJAH!
Before Daddy I was with a boy who was quite nice and quite hunky. We liked similar things and laughed a lot. But as time rocked on, I realized I was doing all of HIS stuff. I drove across Florida for HIS race and didn’t go to the art festival like I wanted to. I sat in the back of my college classes because HE liked it better there. I listened to HIS favorite music. I’m sort of easy about some subjects and he had such strong opinions and next thing I knew, I was sort of into whatever he was into because it was just easy to not have an opinion. Or more to the point, to squash mine.
It was all OK until it came to church. I loved church. I loved my Mormonness. He didn’t. And I could see a lifetime ahead of me of having to squash that. And to be quiet about my little church successes. And to have to hold back what I was excited about on Sunday.
He and I broke up. Obvi. And one of the most refreshing things about your father, when I met him, was that he liked who I was and could see how those things were important to me and made me me. So he encouraged me to be as artsy and Mormon and nerdy as I wanted to be.
And that is how I learned that when someone can really let you be you, you can be so insanely happy. (And that’s important to remember to let HIM be HIM, as well. Don’t go all “he-can-change” on me. Maybe he can. With some other woman. You take him as-is or move on.)
4. Does he want you to be successful? Will he put you first to make that happen?
Daddy has consistently been my biggest cheerleader. Almost to a fault. When I say, “I think I should….” he listens and absorbs it and encourages me. And tells me I can do it. You want that.
I knew a gal who loved her church service. To her, it was important. To her husband, HIS was important and hers was more like a girlie-hobby. She wanted to be successful and would ask me how to get him to see the big picture. The problem is, he really thought she was a cute nice girl but he didn’t care about her success in that way. It wasn’t important to him. Dinner on the table and clean clothes were important. How do you undo that?
The answer is, “It’s supah hard.”
Maybe with a side of “Impossible.”
It’s better to start with someone who sees you have hopes and dreams and he imagines himself helping you with them. (And you better help him with his, too!)
Daddy knew things like FHE, family prayer, attending church, going to the temple, paying tithing – they were important to me. We discussed it and he was aware of how much I needed all of that in my life and he agreed from the get go to support me. He knew I could not feel like a successful mother if I was compromising on those things.
I could be more fully Mormon with your dad than I could be with the few Mormons I dated in college. Ultimately, that is because he wanted me to have that success and to live happily. It makes all the difference in a relationship.
5. Does he have Baby Daddy skillz?
Trust me on this. Not every great guy is a great dad. Not every great LDS guy is a great dad. Not every return missionary is a great dad. Not every great husband is a great dad.
I know husbands who are pretty awesome who really are not good parents. Sometimes it is just when the child is at certain ages. That happens. Maybe they are better with big kids than little kids. You’ll probably discover that about yourself, too. It’s OK. We aren’t all awesomely equipped for every last jot and tittle. That’s when you tell yourself that no kid is that age forever and you tag team the parenting.
But some men just really don’t want to be parents. And I suspect they don’t know it. And it’s a WHOLE lot of slack to pick up because you want to be a mom and he never really was all that committed to kids. A lot of things make a good dad. Maybe that’s for another epistle to you girls. But the same unselfishness and desire for success for his family are paramount. Your father will always put us first. You see it when he is tired and he still listens when really, he would have loved to have vegged for an hour in front of the TV. You see that in his not replacing that nasty old car that is paid off – because no car payment means you can have neat opportunities. Your dad would do anything for you. You aren’t an inconvenience to him or something he is biding his time with so he could make me happy when really, he cannot wait until you are gone and he gets peace back in his home. He loves you more than he loves his conveniences. You should want the same for your children. Look for someone who will love his family more than he cares about his own personal comforts and you will be happy forever.
6. Would you like to be on his team?
To quote WonderPets…
What’s gonna work?
Teeeeeeeeeamwork!
This partnership will be the greatest teamwork of your life. You are trusting your life and happiness and financial security and your very heart and mental health to someone. Find a good teammate.
When we were in college, Daddy and I had a big project to do together. We discovered then that we are a good team. What he is good at – well – often bores me. But we needed his strengths. I was good at other things that he wasn’t as strong at. Together, we had a lot of success at this endeavor. I remember as it was nearing my marriage to him, I already knew we were a good team. As my friend pointed out today about her fantastic teammate/spouse – if dinner isn’t made, he asks what he can do to help. If a baby is crying, he consoles it. If a child needs help, he jumps in and does it. A teammate doesn’t have to be commanded how to care for his family – he goes to the other teammate and asks what they together will do. There are great men in the world – men I really admire!!! – who don’t want to be on a team when it comes to a family. They might not be aware of it, though. But really, they want to go have work and social success. And they want their wives to not bother them with home and childish things. Maybe that could work for you. That would kill me. Knowing the three of you, I suspect that would kill your souls as well. Do you want someone who needs to be told what to do? I have friends who do! They are very controlling and want things a certain way and their husbands are only too happy to be commanded and left alone. For them – that is fine. Whatever you need is what you need but I think you girls, growing up in a home like ours, will want something different because that is your frame of reference. So think about that. Do you want the guy who pitches in when you need help or are you a solo act? Think about it long and hard and ask HIM what he envisions. Because 10 years into a relationship realizing he is just never ever ever going to care about this subject the way you do is awfully unawesome.
7. How poor would you like to be?
I ask this in all earnestness. Before you commit to anyone, get right with finances. In all ways. What do you imagine life looking like? Then think about how much dolla it doth take to do that. Don’t set him up to fail. In a good relationship, finances can mean nothing. In a bad one, they can mean everything. Oh, be wise.
8. Is he deeply moral?
There are many religious people who are not, in my opinion, deeply moral. I think this can cause a lot of confusion for young, religious girls who happen to also be pretty morally upright.
There are men in our church who are “culturally” LDS. It happens in all religions, actually. And to be clear it happens with men and women. We have such a rich LDS culture, sometimes people will no longer accept the doctrines, but they like – and even cling to – the other LDS-ways. Or they don’t want to disappoint their family, so they “pretend” to be something they are not.
Watch out.
Not every RM wants to have FHE and provide for his family and have prayer. Not every endowed person wants to be completely honest and live above board. Many hide things. So much more than I want you to just marry any old “religious” man, I want you to find a partner who is morally straight…someone who can’t sleep at night knowing he is an ethical dud. I’ve known women who have had horrible things done by “actively” religious men who were morally bankrupt.
How do you know if he’s just religious or if he is deeply ethical and good? You take time getting to know. You ask the questions. You become keenly observant.
9. Have you looked for personal revelation?
It’s hard when you are young and in love to not just “go with your gut.” Everything feels like revelation when you are in love. Get thee to the temple. Talk to your bishop. Ask hard questions and pour out your soul in prayer. Start now to have spiritual experiences so you can recognize how it feels and works. Fast. Take your time. Don’t do anything without having a spiritual experience knowing this is THEEEEEE guy. Because if I find out you didn’t take this up with Heavenly Father pre-wedding
I’ll beat you in the head. Right in the middle of your wedding reception.
And don’t think I won’t.
😉
I have more to say, but I think I should stop before you three tune me out.
But be as serious as you need to be about this endeavor. Take time. There is no rush. I mean, you are only 13, 11, and 8. You have a couple of years.
And should there ever come a day when you feel like an old maid because you haven’t made that commitment…well trust me when I say you will feel like an old MISERABLE gal if you rush or compromise and it goes badly. You think being alone is bad? Being miserable is worse.
In the SuperBowl of Stuck vs. Alone – go with Alone.
Why do I write all of this? Because I love you. And I’m crazy. And I worry these important conversations will pass us by in life and suddenly it will be too late to have any impact. I listened to my wise friends today and thought of you three. I want the world for you – but more than anything I want your everlasting happiness. I wish for each of you a man as good as your father and a life as simply joy-filled as mine.
Big, fat, smoochy kisses,
Mama
What it do, Boo?
September 20, 2012
A-yo!
For my birthday, I received many sweet gifts. But one favorite was a deck of slang flashcards so I could bone up on my awesome talkness. Sadly, I don’t have a place to practice a lot of the mad slang skillz I’m so rapidly acquiring. I suppose this blog will become that place for me. So – what it do, friends?
Around here, we’ve been celebrating and loving on each other and trying to just not lose what is left of our minds. In a month’s time there was a big ballet production, school started, it was my birthday, Abby’s birthday and accompanying birthday party, the Open House for our church, the dedication of our church, and Shawn’s birthday. In addition, piano and dance started, there were ballet auditions and youth trips and just too much to keep track of. But here, I will try to keep track of it. And document.
Document.
Document.
Mostly just to stave off dementia.
My 7th grader. Sheesh
So all my kids started school. Abs is in 7th and returned (somewhat begrudgingly) to a bricks and mortar middle school. She is happy – a little stressed – and gets asked out by boys a LOT. What’s up with that?
The Mads.
Mads moved into 6th grade and I think has a love/hate relationship with riding the school bus. When her seatmates aren’t grimey I think that nutter kind of likes it. Middle school has helped her showcase her own steez. I laugh at how uniquely charismatic that kid is…when she wants to be.
I’ve decided to think it’s awesome I only have one elementary school kiddo anymore. And that is a complete lie. Weep.
Annie is my ONLY elementary school kid. I will admit that I was sad the day the car rider lady said, “I guess I shouldn’t say ‘Hillis Family’ come to Number X’ since you only have one here anymore.” OUCHIES. I could have kept fronting like all my kids are babies. I was dope with that. Annie has the same teacher both her sisters had in third grade and pretty much thinks she’s a rock star from Mars.
Next topic! Before I cry that my kids are all old…
Last month was sweet Abby’s birthday. The child turned 13.
Be still my heart.
And for the record, changing the subject from school to Abby being a teenager is only making my eyes burn more.
Dangitalltoheck.
Luckily, Abby’s not triflin. She’s a good, sweet girl. We had a little kickback at our house with 20-something of her nearest and dearest friends. It was a murder-mystery party and I think Abs had a great time. Her super kind friends gave her these incredible gifts like a personalized painting and an antique typewriter (since she loves to write.) I was blown away with the thoughtfulness of those young people and their parents who clearly went out of their way. In a world where we often hear how awful people are, I was moved to see so much goodness in the youth of my neighborhood. Abby is a lucky girl to have such a trill crew.
Poor little murdered beauty queen.
What a shock. Maddie posing. 0_0
Speaking of a lucky girl and a trill crew – who shows up on my doorstep halfway through the party but my awesome pal Em? She didn’t want me to get pwned and end up miserable cleaning my house until 2 am. That girl stayed until it was all dunzo – totally cleaned my dang crib – and made me laugh. Love. That. Woman.
After Abby’s special day, we celebrated the opening of our new church meetinghouse. Can I just say – that place is fresh to death? I think we were all a little shocked it was finally opened and is ours for realz. So many years we have waited for it to be completed so we could worship in it. It’s really a wonder to me that I now drive only 15 minutes – tops! – to church. It is straight fierce to have a church so close. We had a big open house to meet the community and then a dedication of the building the following day.
I cannot lie – it was beyond nerve-wracking to me to open our chapel doors and just guess who would stream in that day. I have had such poor experiences in the past that I was pretty terrified. I try very hard to be respectful of others’ religions. I think most people are the same way but sadly, I’ve had enough interactions to know you can’t count on respectful dialogue. I hoped a big billboard outside our church inviting anyone in the world to stop on in wouldn’t end up truly being us inviting a bunch of crazy into our lives. Yes. Oh-me-of-little-faith. Go ahead. Judge. I’ll wait.
I started the morning off by attending the baptism of a young friend so I was across town when the Open House began. My big girls got to the Open House early and were so excited to see who might stop by. They had handed out invitations to many of their pals. By the end of hour one, they were texting me disappointed that no one they had invited came and my heart was sinking to see them so sad. I was texting them that I hoped they would still be a positive influence and that they would find ways to help others. But my heart wasn’t entirely in it. I wanted to be there for my girls and to love on them and explain that sometimes people are just busy. As I left the baptism and was traveling to them, I was pouring my heart out in prayer that these girls would still have a good experience even if no one they knew walked in that door. Or more especially, if only crazy people walked in that door.
And – prayers were answered. In a pretty off-the-chain way.
By the time I arrived, the big girls were happy and busy. Not long after her texts to me, Maddie met a girl her exact age whose family came to see the chapel. They spent forever together just walking around and talking about church and school and life in general. Maddie shone. She was so thrilled to share what she believed and to meet a friend her age looking for a church. Annie hung out with little kids she met that day (or knew already) and Abs did her Abs stuff in her Abs way and was a giggly, happy, teen. I saw Shawn meeting people and chitter chattering. I could see my prayers being answered in that my family was having a positive experience, even if it wasn’t the experience they had envisioned. I was super satisfied to see my peeps thriving in this environment, but still, I wanted so much to fit in. Everyone was busy with their pals or their assignments and I was kind of just floating out there with no real purpose there. More prayers.
So while I was praying and floating (ok – that sentence is weirdish – sounds like it should be in The Old Man and the Sea) – I noticed this cute little lady who had walked in a side door. She was squeezing her way into the cultural hall past a ton of Boy Scouts. She looked so confident that I thought she was fo-sho my friend’s LDS mother who was thinking of stopping by. I went to introduce myself and asked if she was my friend’s mother only to find out no….
…she was just looking for a new church and lived across the street and was wondering…
….did someone have a few minutes to show her around and talk to her about what Mormons believe?
Umm. Yeah. I guess so. I mean, if she insisted.
My heart soared. As Helen and I walked around, I remembered how much I love meeting new people and how much I love sharing what I believe in a safe way. I enoyed hearing what she does and what she believes and building on what we both think is true. As time went on (we spent about an hour together) Helen asked me if she could learn what a Sunday was like for Mormons. Sure thing! We had an entire presentation on it and I sat with her and just enjoyed making a new friend. Helen was warm and by the end of our time together we were hugging and laughing like old pals. I was so thankful for Helen.
My experience with Helen lead to a lot of introspection. I was reminded that there are times you just want to tell people your junk in a safe way. You don’t want them to wonder about you and Google what you believe or have them ask their friends what they think you think about things. You want the chance to share your beliefs. Helen was my chance. I was so honored she made the time to come out and visit with us. More than anything, Helen reminded me to ask people about themselves and let them share. All Helen did was walk across the street and visit a church. But she did it on a day I really needed someone to walk across the street and visit my church. I thoroughly enjoyed chillaxin with her.
The next day was the chapel dedication and the best part of that was to see my husband looking SIGNIFICANTLY less stressed out. Now it was all the stake’s dealio and Shawn sat with us, relaxed, and got home early from church (although he still managed to spend the entire day doing church work on the computer which I still don’t understand but I have learned you can’t always shake the spot when you are the bishop. Whatevs. It’s all good.)
Not long after the Open House was Shawnie’s birthday. We had a whole big day of fun planned for him. But seeing his stress level lately, I knew something had to give. So at the last minute, I tried to book this cruise I found. I was telling our friends I was waiting to hear from someone to watch the kids so I could officially book it and they said they would keep our kids. No need to look anymore. They were all in.
0_0
Ummm, those kinds of things don’t happen to us! Ever!
But praise be to the Lopez family that it did that day! John and Amy kept our kids from Friday to Monday. Other friends drove kids to them, taught classes for us, filled in on Sunday, and were just rock stars picking up all of our general slack and loose ends. Our pals did what it took so Shawn’s awesome birthday didn’t get salted. The kids didn’t want to leave the Lopez home. They were in heaven! We were in heaven on the ship. It was low key and sweet and just a good reminder that I married
the
best
guy.
I loved celebrating him and really having such a much-needed break myself. I try to be all tough, but the truth is, I need breaks. I need a lot of alone time that I don’t get anymore. And I will happily give all my alone time and personal space up if it means I continue this magnificent life that I have. But this weekend, it was nice to be just a party of two. No one to hyphy.
And while I was glad to just be a couple for a few days – I was NOT glad to see this picture outside our stateroom.
Seriously?
What the whaaaaaaaat?
Was someone trippin when they thought that was a good idea for cruise ship art? Like, woah.
So that is the summation of the last month or so. Life here is not perfect. Life nowhere is perfect. But it’s still a good life. It’s filled with a lot of happy and a lot of compromise and worry and a whole mess of seriously, ridiculous crazy. But it’s our crazy. And I love it. And I love my slang. And I especially loved practicing my slang on you. See the key below so you can be awesome like unto myself.
Peace out, homeys.
Your awesomely convenient slang-key
A-yo – an informal greeting like “Whassup?”
Boo – your boyfriend or girlfriend (or in Amy’s case – your friend-friend)
Chillax – to pass time in an unstructured way
Crew – an intimate, loyal group of friends
Crib – home
Dealio – the situation
Dope – cool
Dunzo – finished, completed
Fierce – awesome
Fo sho – for sure
For reals – truly, really
Fresh to death – truly superlative
Front – to put on a false appearance
Grimey – characterized by deceit
Homeys – friends
Hyphy – entertaining, exciting
It’s all good – it will be fine, don’t worry
Kickback – a social gathering (usually small or low key)
Nutter – a crazy person
Off the chain – fun, enjoyable
Peace out – goodbye
Pwned – thoroughly beaten, trounced
Roll deep – travel with a large group
Salt – to prevent something from occurring
Shake the spot – to go away from, leave, or depart
Steez – style, charisma – that which is uniquely one’s own
Straight – alright, okay, fine
Triflin – wasteful, lazy, or otherwise pathetic
Trill – genuine, authentic
Trippin – doing something crazy
What it do? – a greeting like “Hello – what’s up?”
Whatevs – “Whatever!”
Maddie Hillis – on Friendship
August 4, 2012
A talk (for church) by The Mads
Good morning boys and girls. I was asked to speak today about how having good friends can help you choose the right.
In today’s society many people crave fame and popularity. And to get to where they want to be, those people might push you down or try and make you more like them. Mean people who demand things their way are everywhere and sometimes they make it look so cool that some people will want to be like them. I’ve found it is better to find kind friends who aren’t focused on being better than everyone else. You want to find people who will build you up, support you, and help you strive to be your best. They will also influence you to choose the right and do what God would have you do, not what society would want you to do.
In the Priesthood Session of the October 2000 General Conference, President Gordon B. Hinckley spoke on developing friendships. He said
“Every boy or girl longs for friends. No one wishes to walk alone. The warmth, the comfort, the camaraderie of a friend means everything to a boy or girl. The friend can be either an influence for good or an influence for evil. The street gangs, which are so vicious, are an example of friendships gone awful. Conversely, the association of young people in the Church and their mingling in school with those of their own kind will lead them to do well and to excel in their endeavors.”
I believe that even in a world where people want to be better than you, cooler than you, more popular than you, there are still those people who will make you feel good and help you stay on the right path and help you make good choices so you can live with God again.
You know Mads, I think so, too. Amen, kid.
- Mads on our waterfall hike in Georgia.
To find and be found
June 12, 2012
Quite often, I feel I am in the thick of thin things. I am regularly caught running around doing a hundred non-essential things, excusing myself from the one or two important things that most need doing. I worry I am teaching my children to act similarly – to sometimes replace needful with want-ful.
Want-ful. Hmm. Maybe I’ll find a better word than that.
There are nights I am absolutely consumed with the thoughts of my poor parenting in that regard; worry that I am raising light-minded people is a pretty regular companion of mine. Then there are weekends like this past one.
To be brief, we had a potentially tragic situation happen in our ward. In a matter of hours, as a ward family, we went from lounging on the beach and laughing together to participating in a search/rescue mission and praying together. Surreal does not even begin to describe the situation. Similar such events knock me out of my thin-things-mode. As I see the best in others and what good people are capable of when they come together, I am reminded of what is important in life. I remember why I have covenanted to do certain things. My perspective shifts without the normal loads of prompting and cajoling it typically takes me. Together we all started working – some of us to truly exemplary and grueling ends – to try to make some goodness happen in a grim situation.
So in the midst of a tense and emotional dilemma, it was time for Annie’s happy
little
baptism.
Shut the front door.
Really? With aaaaaall the tragedy and sadness and misery surrounding our ward family, we were going to celebrate?
While I was wrestling in my mind with what to do I immediately thought….we are all rallied around this suffering family and we are coming together as a unit to serve someone because we covenanted to bear one another’s burdens. We said at our baptism that we would not only keep our own salvation in the front of our thoughts, but that we would also care for others so they can improve and progress and have our same blessings and make the same promises.
So yes. Search parties or not, Annie needed the opportunity to do the same. She had been wanting to and understood what she was promising in baptism. She was ready for that. And in her own way, she is ready to bear the burdens of others. And to postpone that for the “perfect time” only meant it would be longer until she learns and grows in this significant way.
And frankly, to paraphrase more than one friend – we all needed a little “happy”.
So off we went to the baptism. And I think we can agree – we all got some happy on.
With three girls, I made the decision they should all suffer similarly wear the same dress to be baptized in. Let’s hope I can work this same magic with wedding dresses someday. It was an emotional thing to realize this was the last time I was getting this little dress ready for one of their baptisms. I hope they will be sweet and share it with their children someday – maybe passing it around the family for baptisms. And in case they don’t and all hate one another and no longer make good choices, I also have a second white dress for each girl for the “after the dunk” fun that each can share with her own daughters.
Mostly, I bought the second dress for each child because, while I am hopeful, I am also a realist. (bwah ha ha haaaaaa)
Annie was delighted to see so many family members there and we took all the obligatory pictures, said the obligatory things, and listened to the obligatory (but well-done!) talks. Shawn baptized Annie and I don’t know if it was because she is the last or if it was the tenderness of an emotional weekend, but he was a smidge choked up. It caught my heart seeing my baby and my boy together in the font. By now, he is a pro at baptizing little girls in this fluffy dress and I had to wonder if part of him curses me for finding the fluffiest dress out there to baptize our daughters in. (Mind you, I don’t wonder enough to actually ask him as I don’t want to be pained by his answer, but I do wonder enough to – ya know – keep wondering.)
Annie was hysterically funny to me post baptism. She kept saying, “I want to to do that again!” I tried to explain how taking the sacrament each week reminds us of the baptismal day but she wasn’t satisfied with that. She shivered and kept saying, “No – I want to go in that WATER again!”
Personally, I vote we fill up the font and let the kids play for ward activities if it satisfies a need of theirs, but I suspect that’s not going to happen.
Soon we were off for her confirmation with Shawn and her grandfathers. So sweet. And seeing her skip back to her place after her confirmation really was
indeed
the PERFECT
amount
of happy.
Our outstanding Primary President welcomed Annie into Primary and presented her with a Book of Mormon we had all signed for her as well as some other precious items. Feeling Carrie’s love for the children warmed my heart all the more. Then it was Shawn’s turn to address Annie and I will admit, I wondered how that would play out. We are more than a smidge sarcastic in our family and I wouldn’t have put it past him to just say, “We’ll handle this part at home.” 0_0
Instead, he reminded Annie that while she can repent of her sins at any time, the sacrament is a time for her to remember her baptismal day and her covenants. As I reflected on that, I found myself transported back in time to my own baptism – and other times I have made covenants – and realized that while I no longer remember every detail, I remember the most important parts and am grateful for the command to relive that time often again in our minds. I’ve been learning in the Book of Mormon this year how important it is to bring significantly spiritual things to our remembrance often and as I get older
and find myself more ladden with thin things
I find I am grateful to do something “deep.”
Even if it is only for a few minutes on Sunday, I need to take the time to reflect on spiritually significant moments in my life. My soul needs it. My family needs it. Really, the world could use a good dousing of it, in my opinion.
Then Shawn went on to share how even people in ideal adoptive situations often search out their birth parents as they age. There is something innately in us that desires to know where we came from and who we are like. We want to know how our biological parents have made us who we are. It is rather universal. And we are spiritually longing for the same things. Many search and wear out their lives in reflection on where they spiritually come from. And Annie – at just 8 – is lucky enough to know. And as she grows – hopefully – she will learn more and more about where she spiritually comes from. She has the ability to learn more about her spiritual parentage and how it makes her who she is. Most importantly, she will decide what to do with that knowledge.
I couldn’t help but think how we were searching for our friend much like some people are searching for truth. Or family. Or significance. Searching seems to be such a huge part of the human experience. And in our searching, to find something that changes lives…
well…
that’s a great blessing.
It’s some happy.
We continued to receive good news throughout the rest of our weekend. Our friend was found safe. In many ways, a search there stopped. Annie’s search for more knowledge about her divine nature is continuing. My search for balance and a more fully developed spiritual core continues. We all search. And to find – and be found – is a treasure beyond comprehension in many ways. It’s a thick thing in a world of thinness. And I’m grateful to have found myself in a weekend just like this one.
Nan. The Banana. Anners. Anna.
May 24, 2012
You loved having your OWN punkin.
Dear Annie,
Today, you are eight. Eight is a good age. It’s a two-handed age, but not a tweeny-you-will-soon-hate-your-parents-age. Eight is when you get really proficient at telling jokes and when your clothing selection is less Garanimal-y and more I-wish-I-was-a-tween-but-not-yet-hating-my-parents-y. Eight is when you are baptized and when your friends start to last and when you can do all the cool things in Activity Days at church. Eight is happiness.
You are a joy. You make me laugh almost every day. You are a very hard worker – nothing about Annie Bananie Hillis is lazy. At least, it is not lazy yet and I hope it never comes. You have no problem admitting you do not understand something which is refreshing. You are endearing. You have a way of making others feel like they are accepted and valued. In a conversation, you laugh in all the right spots and you love the people in your world. You are good to everyone. You play as well with boys as with girls. You are kind. Your relaxed, daydreaming nature makes you very easy to spend time with – but it also makes you quite possibly the slowest child in the history of mankind to get ready in the morning. Even that little foible reminds me it is acceptable to slow down sometimes and that everything has a way of working itself out – so I can appreciate that quality. (Just not always right before school. Or during homework sessions.)
Don’t tell your sisters this, but I have probably learned the most about myself in helping raise you. Here is something you will know for yourself someday. For now, take my word. When you have one child, at first, you are exhausted. As time goes on and you have slept more than two hours at a time, you pretty much think you are a rockstar parent. You quickly get a handle on the routine. That is because one child is manageable. Typically, you can meet all of that child’s needs. You can set goals and make plans and then just work them out. You can make one kid’s hair look cute at all times and keep all the grime out of her fingernails when she is in public.
Then, the second kid comes along and you eat your words. And swallow your pride. And choke on your hubris. That second kid has a way of
rocking
your
world.
And if you are lucky, you get an Annie as a third kid. By the time that third precious lamb is emerging from the womb, your words have long since meant nothing – and largely come out of your mouth in terse little exasperations. Your pride has been trampled into humility. And your hubris is now just a little wad of hope that maybe you weren’t wrong about
every
last
parenting
detail.
With that tiny bit of hubris-turned-hope – you were born. I no longer thought I knew much of anything except how to keep children alive. But I did have that little speck of a wad of hope that I could at least do that much with you. Side-by-side, you and I did “third kid” together. And you took a beaten down old mama and made her fall in love with motherhood all over again. You were the perfect baby. Never in the history of babies was one as perfect as you. You never cried or fussed or demanded much at all and because of that, I was able to do all sorts of things I never would have been able to do with a fussy baby. Because of your easy nature, I was able to accept pretty hefty challenges to serve in the community. And serve I did. And because of that, I realized that – while I wasn’t perfect – I was capable of doing many more things than I ever dreamt of. And later – when you were a little more labor intensive (OK, a lot more labor intensive) – I knew I was capable of finding answers because you and I were pros at finding answers together. And when you really began to bloom and no longer needed as much assistance or time and I began to feel lost in the world, I remembered your infancy and all I managed to do with you tucked in a carseat next to me. And I knew I was capable of doing tricky things again. And that I didn’t have to be so afraid of starting down new paths.
But can I tell you this? I only knew I could do hard things right then because I remembered doing hard things with my perfect third daughter right
by
my
side.
Annie – in many ways, you taught me what I was made of. Thank you.
So Annie – thanks for being in our family. Thanks for being the kind of kid I needed when another kid was coming to this family. Thanks for teaching me and helping me grow. You are a wonder to me. I love you big time. Forever. And I especially love your eight-ness.
Love,
Mama
16 Years – And What Do You Get?
April 27, 2012
meee meee meee meee meeeeeeee – Go ahead and get your Brady Bunch on….
Here’s a story
of a girl named Amy.
Who was busy collegeing it up on her own.
She had hair of brown
except when she dyed it.
And she was (rebound-ingly) all alone.
Here’s the story
of a boy named Shawn(ie)
who was busy auditing class after class after class.
He thought of being a perpetual student
until he caught sight of this lass.
It was one day when the girl pledged his fraternity
that they knew that it was much more than a hunch.
And it’s true – they somehow formed a family
And that’s the way that they became the Hillis bunch.
Can you picture my family in those little color blocks now rolling our heads around looking at one another?
Shawn and I just celebrated our 16-year wedding anniversary. I am not sure when we got so old.
Maybe some folks out there are wondering how to make a marriage last. Well don’t come asking around here because I haven’t a clue. For all the poking he does at me, the truth is, we have lasted because Shawn Hillis is just plain easy to live with and be married to. Still, because I know some people are looking for insider secrets, I asked the kids to field some questions about the Shawn-Amy relationship.
And for what it’s worth – I’m once again reminded – don’t EVER ask my children their opinions unless you want unadulterated honesty.
Here goes.
Why do you think Daddy and I have managed to stay married so long?
Abby – Because you don’t take each other deathly serious. You don’t overreact.
Maddie – Because you and Daddy sleep on different sides of the bed. And you have a really big comforter – which is good on a big bed so that each person gets some comforter.
Annie – And because you laugh at his jokes.
Maddie – And you watch his movies and stuff.
Annie – And you don’t care what he does.
Maddie – And you both have a sense of humor. Sort of. Except sometimes when you don’t think things are funny.
Annie – You and Daddy get together happily. You just be yourself but you also listen for what Daddy kind of likes and you listen at what he is saying.
Do you think I like Daddy? Do you think Daddy likes me?
(Saint) Abby – Yes and yes. It’s quite obvious actually. You are always kissing and laughing.
Annie – Yes. And I know that because I have seen you smooch him on the lips and him carry you around.
Maddie – No, I don’t think you like each other because you are totally different. Daddy likes mayo, milk, eggs, and Mountain Dew and other stuff you don’t like. And you can’t like each other because you like different foods.
Annie – I think Daddy likes you more. Because he keeps smooching on you. And he walks in the door and says, “Hi Honey” and then he smooches on you. Mama – are you writing what I am saying about the smooching?
Do you think we will be married for much longer?
Abby – Yes because you guys loooooove each other!!!
Maddie – No, because you have 3 kids. Kids make a marriage harder and drive parents to insanity. And you are already kind of insane. At this rate, I only see three more years in your future. And if something happens, I’m living with Daddy because he’s got the dough.
Annie – Yes, because you guys love each other. And because you smooch. But if you guys get divorced I will live with Daddy IF he gets a new car.
Abby also chimed in that if we ever divorce, she would move in with me, but I’m pretty sure that was a pity vote. I long ago resigned myself to the fact that they all like him best.
There you have it. The truth is out about us. Shawn and I don’t like the same foods but apparently we suck face way more than the kids approve of. Who knew?
Happy anniversary, Shawnie. It’s getting better every year, don’tcha think?
Mads
April 22, 2012
Maddie turned 11. 11 going on 30, that is.
Maddie - age 4.
Things to know about Maddie this year:
She loves pandas
pie
polka dots
and several other things that do not start with letter P.
Such as
Hunger Games
sock monkeys
super soft blankets
root beer
eating – especially chocolate
listening to the radio (and making family playlists of good music)
shopping
her freckles (we have attempted counting them)
duct tape
socks (preferably mismatched and polka dotted)
Tilly’s
making up dance moves in the kitchen (to date, she’s invented the roach, the giraffe and the chipmunk)
cooking shows on TV
fro yo
Reesee
homemade brownies
Tyra Banks
texting
and texting
and texting
and texting
and
the socializing part of school. Lunch, recess, and getting there super early to hang with friends are all things she loves.
This year, Maddie has a hate-on for…
safety patrol-ing
Maddie didn't last long as a safety patrol. She was completely put out by the entire endeavor and quit. I think her words were, "If they want people to boss little kids around, they should hire grown ups to do that job. I'd rather talk...."
homeroom
tight shoes
burnt cookies
bad-smelling-anything
Harry Potter No. 7
whining
homework
rainy days
and being bored. Ever. Anyplace.
Maddie has kept herself busy this year by scootering all around the neighborhood and reading 6 of the Harry Potter books. I was pretty sure she would be the last person in America to read the books, but she finally caved. She waited so long to read them as she didn’t find the Harry Potter craze at all enjoyable or attractive in others. She only acquiesced about reading them so she could get a wand. She still isn’t in love with HP. In fact, I think he somewhat annoys her. She read the Hunger Games series as well and has managed to not wake up screaming from night terrors about it (like her mother.) She started taking piano lessons on her 10th birthday and she says if piano-playing were an Olympic sport, she would be all in and trying to get a gold medal. Mads still dances and went to her first dance convention and met famous people I had never heard of but who meant everything to her. Still the kind of kid who entertains herself, my middle child always has a little plan or scheme. She is forever “up-to-something.” Currently, she is in the kitchen conducting a side-by-side taste test comparison of gluton-free and sugar-free brownies.
She voted for sugar-free.
Maddie is insightful. I have to remind myself she is 10. Well, now 11. She has opinions on everything from how people should run their businesses to what constitutes hoochie-mama attire. Don’t try to bully anyone while she is around – she will not stand for it and really cannot stomach rudeness in people. She can espouse what makes a good human (in her opinion, that is) and what is about to go wrong in a friendship. Maddie is filled with opinions on every subject and while it’s not always appropriate for her to share these opinions in public, I find myself often agreeing with her assessments when she whispers them to me privately.
And when Maddie whispers you one of her insights during dinner, be prepared to snort water out of your nose.
Just saying.
Which reminds me – Maddie is funny. Just really funny.
I think our home would be significantly more boring without Maddie. It would also be quieter, cleaner, and less noisy, but
significantly
less
interesting.
She has a way of keeping us all at the ready.
Happy birthday Mads.
Family Night Funnies – Recalculating
April 18, 2012
Ever think you are on the right track in what you are teaching your children only to find out they are kind of wonk?
The children, that is, are wonk. Not the teachings.
I am trying to raise decent humans over here. But there are times I question if what I’m teaching is sinking in at all.
Take tonight, for instance. Every week we have Family Night and here are some lines from this evening’s attempt.
Annie – So, what if we do not want to stay on the straight and narrow path? Let’s go curvy.
Maddie – If our spirits have a form, mine must look pretty goooooooood.
Shawn (while the children were hysterically laughing during the prayer – sigh) We thank Thee for the gift of humor but we are sorry Maddie cannot be reverent during a prayer.
Seriously? The man used prayer to chastise a child? His own child? (While chuckling.) Like THAT was going to calm the children down?
I’m sure you can imagine the giggles that erupted over a prayer like that. I was thinking, “Why are we praying? Should I just give up now?”
If the kids grow up to be delinquents, please know I gave it a good try and I went down fighting. Maybe I just need a new strategy…tonight, for sure, we needed a do-over.
Bombs and snakes on vacation? Oh my…
April 12, 2012
Recently, Annie and I were inseparable buddies on a little vacation we took. While we were together, I was reminded just how funny Annie is. The shame of it all is that Annie doesn’t realize she is hysterical.
Take this for instance. Go there in your mind with me. Visualize.
We are at the pool. Ducks are floating in the pool.
Which begs the question, why are ducks in the pond cute while ducks in the pool are sick-nast?
I digress. Let’s visualize again. It’s shady and lovely. Breezy. Waves are crashing at the nearby beach.
Annie (whispering): Mama – we have to make the ducks go away.
Me: Must we?
Annie (still whispering): Yeeeees. I have a plan.
Me: Annie – why are you whispering?
Annie (you guessed it – whisper voice): So the ducks don’t hear my plan.
Me: Annie – even if the ducks heard you, ducks don’t speak English.
Annie (ever so quietly): But they understand human? Yes?
Me: No.
Annie: Just in case, let’s be quiet. I have a plan.
Me: To get rid of the ducks? Ok, what is your plan?
Annie: When I point at you, make a scary noise at that duck. Try to sound like a loud
scary
snake.
-thud-
Me: Annie, snakes aren’t loud.
Annie (deep in thought now): Riiiiiiight.
Me: How about if I sound like a loud BOMB? KA-BOOM!
Annie (clearly exasperated with me): Do you think a duck will know to be scared of a bomb sound, though? I know they know snakes, but bombs?
Right-o. What was I thinking?
Earlier in the day, Maddie held up both of her hands and asked Annie how many fingers she had up.
Annie guessed 20.
Playing with Annie is really a kind of endless fun. I hope she is always this entertaining. Her sincerity is endearing and her happiness is contagious.
But thank heavens we have one more year until FCAT.
Hello beebees – please live and let’s have fun.
March 25, 2012
Some people feel they were born to do be a doctor or an actor or a whatever-er. Many know what they want from life when they are very young and anything they try doing that is not to that end causes them misery. I have heard it described – those all-consuming feelings of what needs to happen – as someone’s “life’s passion.”
I’m really not so much that way. I get passionate about things for stages. It’s been music and art and all kinds of esoteric things I adored. I sort of rotate through passions….each one capturing my heart for a while. There has only been one thing I ever really
really
REALLY
wanted to be and I knew if I got the chance, I’d work hard at it. In spite of all my changing interests and goals, I’ve remained committed to wanting this one thing and knowing – since I was a pretty young girl – that it was my calling in life. I wanted
to be
a wife and mom.
I know, I know. Wifeliness and motherhood are some people’s back-up-plan. To me, they were the goal.
Finding a husband wasn’t super hard for me (and let me just say that I wish a nice Shawn-type-boy for everyone.) I married a person who loves me and I don’t have to work tremendously hard to make this marriage-thing work with him, because he is easy to be with (mostly. he he he)
Before you think I’m gloating, please know two things.
Number One – I know I’m very blessed to have a good husband. I count it as a treasure.
And Number Two. If it makes you feel any better to know my life isn’t completely perfect (which I hope you are not that way. Don’t be that way. Bitter is so unattractive and no life is perfect. But in case you do roll that way…) please know that, sadly, my womb hates being inhabited.
In fact, my entire body hates being inhabited by a baby.
Amy+Babies=Hospitalization, Bed Rest, and Tons of Cruddy Meds
And in some cases, really dinky babies.
It took a while (by LDS standards) for me to do a good job growing a human. We were in such an ugly place in our lives and at that time, I thought our luck would have to soon change because it had been so bad for so long. I think 8 or so of my other friends were pregnant and unexpectedly and without a lot of fanfare – I was too.
Really? Me?
I remember thinking that finally – after so much heartache – life would be more what I’d always hoped, and now, I would be a mama! Everything was changing for me. I was about to be part of the Mom-Club. I was going to talk diapers and sitters and how important an epidural was to achieve true birth-zen. I’d be the one hanging out in the church Mother’s Lounge on that sweet pink swivel-recliner that smelled oh-so-faintly of formula.
Of course, things – at first – didn’t turn out quite like I’d expected. Abby was my 2 pound baby. Her early arrival was a shocker to say the least. I remember thinking in the aftermath, “So much for the tide turning for us. Of course I’d have the nearly-dead baby. What else would happen to someone like me?”
Such dark, lonely times those were.
But at her birth, she was a tough little thing. So strong and really beautiful. She was clearly a fighter and while I regrouped and began to realize that maybe – against the odds – all would be well, she just lived and grew, peacefully, in a NICU.
Until, that is, she stopped growing.
It had been a week and Abby hadn’t gained an ounce. That’s a long time in preemie-world. We tried holding her less so that she never had to fight to maintain her body temperature outside of her isolette. Then we tried not touching her at all except for the most perfunctory things. Shawn developed a program to calculate how she should be growing. And every day we could see how she wasn’t following any healthy projection. The neonatologist met me and gave me the scary news. It looked like Abby might have failure-to-thrive. It wasn’t uncommon and there wasn’t anything to reverse it. Sometimes babies just give up.
I was devastated. And it was maybe the loneliest I have ever felt in my life. My happy dreams were interrupted, yet again. I realized I might never realize my “passion” in this life.
I immediately found a nurse and told her from then on out, when family called, to not give them updates on Abby and to tell them to contact the parents to see how she was. Then I sat in front of her isolette and cried.
I cried and cried and criiiiiiiiiied. I wallowed, blew my nose on gauze (I kid not – and it’s not absorbent in case you were wondering) and cried some more.
And then, I realized just how sick of it all I was. I was sick of being sad. I was sick of seeing everyone have what I didn’t and feeling miserable. I was sick of feeling sorry for myself. I was sick of people feeling sorry for me and of all the awkwardness. I was sick of stuffing it in and trying to make everyone else comfortable while they made excuses for our situation. I was sick of worrying that my only memories of this little person might be her life in the corner of a hospital.
And seeing as I was her mother, I felt it was time we had a discussion about all of this.
I scooched up close to her and opened the porthole to her isolette and decided to give her a very nice piece of my mind. I explained that all I wanted in life was to be a wife and mom and really, she and Shawn were as close as I’d managed to produce, to date. He was holding up his end of making my dreams come true and that just left her. I explained that while she might not like life in her plastic palace at the moment, there were good things to come and she and I deserved the chance to do them together. I told her how much I wanted the opportunity to show her I could be a half-decent parent. I explained that I had been planning for years on how I would cover topics like dating and nutrition and finding the perfect bathing suit. I swore that while I was stinky at doing my own hair, I’d learn how to do hers for her sake.
I had plans for our relationship that I shared with her in detail. We would decide together which was indeed the best Disney princess (there were fewer then) and I had been looking forward to her first Primary Program. I promised to not embarrass her at school but did explain that while I planned on us having a lot of fun, she needed to know I intended to be reasonably strict about important things. As I sat there for what felt like hours – but was probably minutes – I poured my heart out to her telling her how I wanted to do things with her like take her prom dress shopping and teach her to not hunch when she danced with the inevitable shorter-boy. And while I would happily do those things with some other kid that I might have to adopt, I really did want to do those things with her. Because I thought I might really love her in way I never loved anything else. And I might not recover from not having her around.
The next day, Abby gained weight.
I like to think she knew who was boss.
There are a lot of things I no longer remember about our conversation that day. (Can we call it a conversation when it was so one-sided on my part?) But I do remember many things. I remember the color of the chair I perched on the edge of and the way I sat with my back to the nurse’s station because I knew they might judge my wanton gauze usage. I can still see my knock-off-Doc Martens-ed foot on the crib railing of the boy next to her so I could keep rocking that baby while talking to my own. I remember the shine of the plastic around her and I remember saying, specifically, that I would take her to her Young Women’s General Broadcasts. Every year. I had heard another mom mention how she loved doing that with her daughters and was so sad it was her last one with her youngest daughter. When she said it I thought, “I will do that with my daughters, if I ever have any.”
So last night was the Young Women’s General Broadcast.
Abby’s first.
Our first.
And we did it. We ate ice cream together and watched the broadcast in the dark and she snuggled me. Which she never
ever
evah
did in the NICU.
And instead of failing to thrive, I think she is proving she is thriving. And I love her.
That’s us on our way out the door. We were so serious, as you can see.
Not everyone gets to do what they are passionate about. Dreams are broken. Reality sets in and passions don’t always pay the bills. Sometimes, a girl just never meets her Shawn and like marriages and relationships, many, many babies do, indeed, fail to thrive. Wombs stay closed. Disease comes. Heartache sets in. Not every story is a happily ever after in this life.
But last night, one mom lived her dream. With her girl.
It was a good night.
It is a good life.
I could have done without the dog leaving chewed up flip flop all over the pool table room today,
but it’s still a good life.
Hillis Hilarity 
