It's Treat Day!

When Emily was young, she was very active. It wasn't unusual to find her climbing up the side of the refrigerator to see what was on top. It wasn't unusual for her to climb out of her crib when she was supposed to be taking a nap. And it wasn't unusual for her to disappear when we went shopping.

I would place her in a shopping cart, buckle her in, and she would somehow shimmy her way out. As soon as I turned away for a moment, she would escape and take off. This was not fun.

I would explain to her the importance of staying by my side. I would plead with her to stay in the cart. I would beg her not to run away. But, she did not listen.

I remember taking her to Beverly's Craft Store. Once again she escaped the confines of the shopping cart. Frantically, I looked for her everywhere. I could not find her. I reported my missing daughter to a store employee. Over the loudspeaker she announced, "We have a Code Yellow. I repeat, we have a Code Yellow. Three year old girl, blond hair, blue eyes wearing a striped shirt is missing." Less than two minutes after the announcement, I heard a burst of laughter and Emily popped up in the middle of a fabric display. She had the biggest grin on her face and she obviously was having a great time. I'm glad one of us did.

About two weeks later we were shopping at Target. I placed her in the cart, buckled her in, and was determined that this time I would not "lose" her. Less than ten minutes later I heard over the loudspeaker, "We have a Code Yellow. All available employees will monitor all exits looking for a blond, blue eyed three year old girl wearing a pink top." Yes, Emily was missing again. Shortly after the announcement, I saw her run from one clothing display to another. When I saw her duck under the clothes and hide, I knew that this was becoming a fascinating game. She thought it was great fun! I did not share her opinion.

In desperation, I told her, "Emily, if you can stay by my side and not run off, I will buy you a treat at the last store we visit." Emily liked treats. She was intrigued. At each store I would repeat my promise, "If you stay in the cart or by my side, I will buy you a treat at the last store." It worked! And thus, "treat day" was born. Some would consider buying a treat a bribe, but I like to think of it as a reward. It helped save my sanity and it prevented more embarassment. I could actually show up at a store more than once.

For nearly 13 years, Wednesday has been treat day at our house. My older daughters loved this tradition because I would buy them a treat even if they were in school. They would come bursting into the house on Wednesday afternoon loudly proclaiming, "It's treat day!" On their pillows would be a candy bar.

Emily no longer "needs" treats when we go shopping. She doesn't wander off and I haven't heard anyone call a "Code Yellow" in years. (I wonder if they still do that?) But, this is a family tradition that will last until she leaves home. And it may even continue a little longer. After all, I still make sure there is a treat waiting on the pillows on Wednesday afternoons when my older daughters are home for a visit.

Slow Cooker Lasagna

Mondays are piano lesson day at my home. I finish teaching around 5:30 pm. I don't particularly feel like fixing something elaborate that late, so frequently I will fix a slow cooker meal.

Recently I discovered a new recipe in Kraft's Food and Family magazine. Our family enjoyed it a lot and I will definitely be making this again. It may seem a little strange to have oval (or round shaped) lasagna, but don't let the shape of the dish fool you. This is a very easy and tasty recipe. I cook this recipe in a medium sized slow cooker.

Slow Cooker Lasagna

Prep: 15 minutes Cook on low: 6 hours Total: 6 hours 15 minutes
Serves 8

1 lb. ground beef
1 jar (26 oz) spaghetti sauce
1 cup water
1 15 oz. container of Ricotta cheese
7 oz. Mozzarella Cheese, divided (about 3 cups)
1/4 c. grated Parmesan Cheese, divided
1 egg
2 T. chopped fresh parsley
6 lasagna noodles, uncooked

Brown meat in large skillet, drain. Stir in spaghetti sauce and water. Set aside.
Mix ricotta, 1 1/2 c. mozzarella, 2 Tbsp Parmesan, egg, and parsley.

Spoon 1 cup meat sauce into slow cooker; top with layers of half each of the noodles, broken to fit, and cheese mixture. Cover with 2 cups of the remaining meat sauce. Top with remaining noodles, broken to fit, cheese mixture and meat sauce. Cover with lid.

Cook on LOW 4 to 6 hours or until liquid is absorbed. Sprinkle with remaining cheeses, let stand covered, about 10 minutes or until melted.

NOTE: For best results, do not cook on the HIGH setting.

Long Distance Wedding Planning

Jennifer trying on wedding dresses. This is NOT the dress.

This evening Jennifer, Ron and I chatted on the phone. She is getting married in less than three months. We are trying to plan the details of her special day but it is complicated. Her fiance lives in Arizona. Jennifer lives in Utah. We live in California.

We caught up on her life and then began the series of questions that would help us know what had been accomplished recently. She shared her news, I shared ours. I then pulled out the wedding checklist and told her the "good news." We had accomplished nearly everything that should be done till that point in time. Then I shared the "not so good" news. She had a lot more tasks to complete in the next couple of weeks.

Karen helping Jennifer look for wedding dresses.

It's been frustrating to not be with her--helping her shop, choosing specific colors, helping with all the details. I am so grateful for wonderful sisters who have stepped in and been the surrogate moms as she looked for wedding dresses. I am grateful for her sisters who have offered her their love and support. I am grateful to her friends who run her around town since she doesn't have a car. I am grateful for my friends who have offered their assistance to help make this day memorable for one of my sweet daughters.

I know all the long distance planning will come together and I cannot wait to be there as Jacob and Jennifer are sealed for time and all eternity. This will be one of those "red letter days" that all mothers dream about for their children.

Dating Advice

Last night I attended a Mutual activity for one of the wards in the stake. I was asked to take part on a dating panel. The young women were asked to write any question they wanted anonymously and the "expert" panel would be happy to answer them.

The questions ranged from "why can't we date until we're sixteen" to "is it OK to kiss on a first date?" One young woman wanted to know what necking meant. Another young woman wanted to know if it was OK to date nonmembers if they had good standards and values. Probably my favorite question (that I picked out of the bag so I got to answer it first) was "How do I let a boy know I like him without scaring him off?" I thought back to my teenage days so long ago. I said, "Well, I think the best thing you can do is make eye contact and smile. Then look away for a few seconds and make eye contact and smile again. It's also important to actually talk to them occasionally. If you do that, most guys will know that you are interested and you won't be so overbearing." A few of the other adults also chimed in and one of the Laurel's in attendance basically agreed with what I said.

Today I went visiting teaching. My companion has been single for ten years. Her husband passed away after complications from surgery. As I dropped her off she said, "I wouldn't mind finding a male friend but at my age it's hard. Most of the good ones are married. I would be interested in getting to know "Brother Jones" better. But I don't know how to let him know that I'm interested."

I almost laughed. Basically the same question asked in less than 24 hours by first a teenager and then a woman who has several grandchildren. "Well," I told her feeling somewhat like 'Dear Abby,' "you probably should make eye contact and smile at him. It wouldn't hurt to talk to him either..."

Grandma Harmon and the Moon

When I was a little girl we traveled to San Pedro, California nearly every year to visit my Grandpa and Grandma Harmon--my mother's parents. I always enjoyed spending time with them. There house smelled of bananas and their backyard seemed like a paradise with wooden walkways and many plants and flowers. My Grandma Harmon wasn't in the best of health, but she was always so kind. My favorite memory of her was her love of the moon.

I remember many evenings she would take my small hand and we would go outside in the backyard to look at the moon. Her love of the moon passed off on me and I always feel a small thrill whenever I view the moon. I'll frequently point out the moon to other family members. "Now look at that moon! Isn't it beautiful?" It doesn't matter what phase the moon is in, I just love looking at it and am grateful for not only this beautiful world Heavenly Father created for us, but for the heavenly bodies he placed in our sky.

A few weeks our family was returning from a boating trip on the Delta. The full moon was just rising and it was so large. I pointed it out to Emily and she began taking pictures.


The moon helps me feel connected to family members in a strange kind of way. When Ron, Christie, and I lived in Texas many years ago, I sometimes felt homesick for family back in California. As I looked at the moon in Texas I thought, "My family is able to see the same moon that I do." I know it sounds strange, but suddenly they didn't seem as far away and my homesickness lessened.

Thank you Grandma for the wonderful gift you gave me. You never knew how those quiet moments gazing at the moon would bless my life.

Juggling Act

The past couple of weeks I've been waking up very early. Four am, 4:30 am, sometimes even earlier. The sad thing is I can't fall back to sleep. I think it's because I have so many things to do right now. I feel like I'm juggling many activities--all great activities and my brain says, "Loralee, it's time to wake up! You don't have time to sleep."

Early this morning I pictured myself wearing a clown costume and juggling lots of balls.

One ball was labeled stake young women leadership meeting. That's coming up in less than a month and there is still so much to do. One ball was labeled tri-stake dance. That's in about a months time. I arranged for the DJ (thanks Brother Michael!) but that's about it. One ball is my BYU Independent Study class. I'm taking a Psychology class right now on Leadership. I'm really enjoying it, but it does take work. Another ball is Jennifer's wedding. I guess I should say, Jennifer's reception. She has the wedding part down pretty well. Getting married in the temple sure takes a lot of stress off THAT part of the day! Another ball is running the household, another one being a supportive wife as Ron transitions to long distance commuting, and of course, one of the most important balls is being the kind of Mom that Emily and the other girls need right now.

With so much going on, I'm not sure if I am doing anything well. If I drop a ball now and then, try to understand that I'm doing the best that I can. And I'll promise that I'll pick it up as soon as I can and keep on going.

When You Least Expect It

For nearly a year, our family has been experiencing stress. Last October 2008, rumors began circulating at my husband's place of employment about pending job cuts. Ron was told that about eight jobs at his level would be eliminated. We began fasting, praying, and attending the temple, pleading to our Heavenly Father that he would be safe. We also cut back on our expenses, built up our savings and food storage and looked at each purchase very carefully. We asked, "Is this a need or a want?" If it was a need, we would get it. If it was a want, we didn't. Last Christmas there was very little under the tree compared to previous years. We could not justify spending money we might need to live on later.

Ron began searching for a new job "just in case." He had his first interview in January. The next day, one of his bosses called him into his office and told him that he knew he was concerned. "It's not you," he was told. We rejoiced. We went out to dinner for the first time in months and our prayers became ones of gratitude.

Less than six weeks later, Ron was told a different story. His job would be eliminated the end of June. There would be no severance. He could choose to be put on paid administrative leave with benefits so he could begin looking full time. He took them up on that and beginning in April, Ron only went into work once a week. Unemployment in our part of the country stood close to 15%. It was not pretty.

I had many sleepless nights. I would lay awake worrying. We turned increasingly to Heavenly Father--pleading for His help. Our daughter, Emily began praying that her dad would have a job by June 30. We fasted frequently and went to the temple nearly every week. As I began spending more time searching the scriptures and earnestly praying, my faith slowly increased. I began to pray with greater conviction, "thy will be done. I know thou knows our needs. Please help me feel of thy love." I always did.

For Mother's Day this year, Christie gave me Hilary Weeks CD, If I Only Had Today. As I listened to her music over and over in the car, one song in particular brought me hope. I had Ron and Emily listen to the lyrics and said, "This will be our song someday!"

Let me share with you part of the lyrics. The song is called, "When You Least Expect It."

I've quit counting the hours I've prayed for answers,
But I can't help wondering how long I will have to wait.
And why is Heaven silent while I'm running out of words
I keep on knocking but nobody hears me standing at the door.

Then through the shadows
Beyond the doubt
Heaven sends the answer.
I can't believe it
But I can feel it
Deep inside of my heart.

And that's when it happens
When you least expect it
And you know God has heard every prayer.
That's when it happens
Love breaks through the darkness
And Heaven surprised you
When you least expect it.

That's what happened to us. After two months of true unemployment, a surprising job offer came. Ron had interviewed with a college in July. He was told he was not a finalist the beginning of August. The job was nearly forgotten and then the end of August I received a phone call from the office of the college president. He wanted to interview Ron later that week. The interview went well but Ron was concerned that he had not answered a couple of the questions as well as he could have. Soon after returning home, he e-mailed the college president a thank you note and clarified a couple of his answers. Less than 15 minutes after sending off that e-mail, the college president called and offered him the job. Ron started the following week. Truly, Heavenly Father has heard EVERY one of our prayers. He has heard the prayers of our extended family and friends as well. We know that this is our miracle and we are very, very grateful.

Mamoom

Several years ago, one of my darling daughters nicknamed me "Mamoom." It became a term of endearment and reminded me of of the days when my daughters were little girls and I was there "mommy." I was the one that could kiss their boo boos better. I loved being a young mother--baking cookies, taking them on "field trips" to the library, the park, and the neighborhood pool. I absolutely loved holding them close, singing to them "Jumbo Elephant" in my not so perfect voice, reading them stacks of books, and whispering to them that I loved them and I hoped that they would always remember that they were daughters of God.

Now my darling daughters are nearly all grown. Christie has been married five years. Heather has graduated with her Master's degree. Jennifer is completing her degree and will be married soon. Only Emily is home and within a blink of an eye, she too will leave home. When I feel a little homesick for my "mommy" days, I remember that being an older mother isn't bad either. There are no diapers to change, noses to wipe, or schedules to keep straight as I shuttle four daughters to all of their activities. There are other perks as well. It's fun visiting with them on the phone and hearing about their daily activities. I love being with them, even if it's not as I often as I would like. I am amazed at the talented young women they are. They rarely call me mommy anymore, but I love being their Mamoom.