Lessons My Parents Taught Me

1. Work and Work Hard

Above all else, my parents taught me how to work. That's a perks of growing up on a farm--there is always work to be done. Some of my earliest memories are of riding in the back of our big, red tractor with my dad and Dayna. There were these two, little flat "seats" behind the driver seat that Dayna and I would sit on. I can remember sitting back there with my buck teeth just grinning because I was so happy to be out with my dad and big enough to ride with Dayna on the "seats." There were always little treasures to be had thrown in the back as well: a half drunk coke, a tool or some sorts to fiddle with, and of course a measuring tape to see if we couldn't kink. As I grew and graduated from the tire well seats to the driver seat, I spent many hours driving that tractor through fields, an accidental creek or two, and maybe over a couple pipe valves, but even after a long summer day of haying, I can promise you my dad had been up earlier and would still be going when I called it quits. There were many nights I feel asleep to the slow chugging of the baler working on through the night because the bales are always tighter with the dew on them.

2. How to "eye ball"

My mom literally does not own a solid set of measuring cups or spoons. She does, however, have a conglomeration of cups and spoons that could maybe pass for a measuring set. One of the cups has a crack along the bottom, so you better not need to measure any liquid, and one very helpful child accidentally chewed a measuring spoon in the garbage disposal so it's a now a teaspoon minus a little of the top... However, it doesn't seem to matter to my mom that my dad and I one time took her good measuring cup--without the crack--and her kitchen whisk to mix powder milk for a couple bum calves without mommas (and I'm sure we probably never returned them). She taught all her daughters to cook, but she didn't do it with any spoons or cups. She would dump a little salt in her palm and toss it in or mix in flour till it looked right, and even though my mom taught me well, my bread never turns out as beautiful as her's. I'm glad she taught me how to eye ball it every once in a while. 

3. Cut Once, Measure Twice

The other day I was watching "The Pioneer Woman" on Food Network, and she was taking lunch to her family as they were building a fence. I almost had to shut the TV off and write her off. What a pathetic fence. They didn't use the fence stretcher right. Their dancers were crooked. They didn't tamp the posts right, and their auger holes were most definitely crooked. Since my dad spent most of his summer hours haying, that meant he spent most of the winter hours fixing fences. I truly would like to know the miles of barbed wire my dad has spread across the frozen fields of the Paris bottoms. We once spent a whole fall and winter at the "facilities" building the most impressive alley way and chute. It came complete with an alley way backstop and sidewalk so I didn't have to jump across cable reels to hot shot the cows. And, I'm sure we made my dad proud when Dayna and I helped him build a short fence at the barn. To this day, I don't think I've laughed so hard as I did that day carrying boards with Dayna in the falling snow.

4. You'll Work Your Whole Life
 I got my first job the day I turned 16, and I still remember my parents telling me I had my whole life to work; they knew this because they have worked hard their whole lives. First, I truly cannot remember my dad ever taking a sick day. Whether it's sharpening saws or feeding cows, he is always on the job. Second, I am so grateful my mother worked. I know she didn't always enjoy working, but she always went to work.  I think of her hard work ethic every day lately. I am not where I planned to be in my working life right now, but I am, however, extremely grateful for a job that pays well and allows me to commute with Steven every day, but I'm not exactly happy with it. Everyday I think of my mom and how hard she worked at jobs that definitely weren't her ideal, but she still went and I never heard her complain...that is something I'm sure Steven wishes I would do now and then! I'm not sure what my mom and dad would do if they could choose their ideal job, but I do know they would work just as hard as they do now.

5. Stack Wood
My dad is also one of the most giving people I know. Many times he helped our neighbors with wood for the winter or a bag of food he'd often take from our own freezer. He always made sure we had plenty in our family, and then he'd turn to others and share. Often times I was annoyed or put out that I had to unload wood or food at another's, but there was one time in particular that changed my attitude for good. One night he had brought home a huge stack of wood to be delivered to an unsuspecting home, and I complained the entire time I unloaded it. About the time I was done, my dad told me to stack some up by the door. I was definitely not happy about this. I saw no reason why I had to not only unload the whole stack, but now I had to stack it by their door?! Come on. The next day I was stopped by a young woman who asked if it was me and my dad who had unloaded that wood. I wasn't quit sure what to say since to this day I still don't know who all my dad would help, but I nodded. Crying, she explained that she had chosen to work an extra shift that night because she didn't want to go home. She knew she had no more wood to heat her house on this winter night; however, at the end of her second shift she made her way home, and as she was opening the door of her house she noticed the wood stacked beside it. If my dad hadn't felt the need take a couple extra logs up to her doorstep, she would not have noticed the wood stacked beside her house. Each time I see an outstretched hand on the streets of Boston I think of my dad, and how he never passed up an opportunity to help another. 

6. I am Who I am Because You Worked
My mom was not a stay at home mom, and for that I am grateful. Because she worked, she taught me to be very independent. I learned to do a lot of things because my mom wasn't doing it for me! Don't get me wrong, she still did more for me than I would be able to count, but I had a lot of independence because there were times where I had to do it myself, and I'm glad I did. I know my sisters helped me a lot as well. Dayna was my after school buddy, and I'm glad we had that hour between hopping off the bus and chore time to sit together and watch cartoons...even if we did fight every once in a while. I'm glad she taught me and my sisters (Theron is still questionable ;)) how to do my laundry, make the occasional dinner and get my homework done without asking. But you can be certain, she was always there to bring the forgotten book to me at school on her lunch break. We were independent, but she always still knew what we were doing. 

This was actually a picture from that very night

7. Dafne & Job
While I was growing up, my parents never pushed the church. It was simply expected. They set an expectation and let each of us choose to follow. I am truly grateful they lead by example in the church. They never skipped church to get an extra weekend day, but they were never ostentatious about it either. They are quiet followers of Christ who teach by example and actions without any flourish or attention. I would see this in my dad when over the years I'd catch him up at all hours of the night reading his scriptures--sometimes with just a small lamp on and other times with a recorded Jazz game on. One night in particular almost 4 years ago exactly, I found him up late rocking Dafne. We got started talking about my recent MS diagnosis, and he turned to the story of Job to help me put into perspective what a trial is. I still find immense comfort in the story of Job when I need strength to persevere or just to remember that night listening to my dad talk about the deepest of life's greater trials while rocking his grandbaby.

8. Love is Gross
Lastly, my parents taught me what love and marriage looks like. It looks gross. Just kidding! But honestly, they are grossly in love with each other. They kiss a lot. And hug a lot. And hold hands all the time. Or if my mom's feet are cold, he'll hold those too. And they still cuddle--even if their grandkids are snuggling up in between them now! They definitely have had ups and downs throughout their 36 years of marriage, but they always come out stronger as a couple...even if a few sandwiches get punched in the process! 

I am so grateful for my parents and the love they show me, my sisters and brother, and each other. They have taught me so much more than what is listed here, and they are still teaching me today. They are truly the perfect parents for me. Happy (late) Mother's and Father's Day--I love you both. 

Beware The Rant

I'm seriously giving you fair warning that this post is purely a rant and will have no greater purpose or sentimentality except to rant about the stupidity of others, which happens to be one of my favorite things to do.

First, yes, I should be studying and not writing this, but, the more pages I turn, the angrier I get about something I read early this morning. Second, I love Steven but curse him for getting me into reading the comments on articles!!

I read this article this morning on The Boston Globe about Mitt Romney's charity boxing match last night. I thought it was one of those feel-good news stories about Massachusetts' former governor continuing to do good in the world and raise funds for his son's work with CharityVision to give vision aid to impoverished areas across the globe. In fact, this 2 round boxing match, which, face it, was probably more entertaining than the "boxing match of the century" Mayweather vs. Pacquiao, raised $1,000,000 for CharityVision! How could you not, as a Massachusetts resident, be proud of your former governor and presidential candidate for putting himself out there, taking a few punches and raising money that will significantly improve the lives of so many?! However, there always will be those that must take the negative road, and one incredibly negative people definitely got to me this morning. He made this comment on that article:

It's not the comments about the LDS church that bother me, because, if you, sir, did "get" the LDS church, you would not make those comments. They're simply the same run of the mill mockery that has always fallen on the church, and has obviously never hindered the church, so that, besides proving he is a religious bigot, means nothing. However, I was astounded at the small minded and discriminatory comment about Mitt Romney's wife. 

Ann Romney was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis 20 years ago, and she has made and is making an incredible impact in the lives of every other person with MS. In fact, right now she is working with Brigham & Women's Hospital to create a Center for Neurological Diseases that will strengthen the efforts to find cures for not only MS, but for a myriad of other neurological diseases that are left largely unknown in terms of cures, reversal and modification. She is out there raising money, along with her husband, to cure diseases and bring medical help to the #50MillionFaces who battle neurological diseases. She is quite possibly one of the more influential and hard working first ladies, gubernatorial or presidential, that the United States has seen in years! And you, Mr Eastbrewster, have the audacity to say that because she needs a car elevator, which by the way I can find no evidence of her ever needing or using a car elevator for assistance, she has somehow embarrassed her husband? Because logically from your eyes, any person with a spouse who has any physical ailments is obviously an embarrassment. In which case, Mrs. Kennedy must be so embarrassed. 

I truly pray for the sake of your significant other, Mr. Eastbrewster, that she never falls ill to anything more than the common cold, because she'll apparently lose all support from you. It's clear your vows stop at "sickness and in health." Having experienced a touch of this in my life, it makes me further appreciate my sweet husband who, even before we got together, comforted me one time with the council that everyone will have some sort of health problem, but at least I know what mine is now. I think it takes true character to think like that. To not waiver because you're scared, to not doubt because of the "what if," to not step out because it might be too hard is, to me, the pure essence of selfless love and Christlike faith. And maybe if the star of my rant, Mr. Eastbrewster, did "get" the LDS church, he wouldn't look at a woman, who has most likely done more in her spare time than he has done most his life, and think she could possible embarrass anyone. 

Now, let's look what Ann Romney did during this boxing match--

Before the fight

Her sideways, neon Batman hat!

And gold chains!

Where was Ann during this fight? She is in her husband's corner. 

All photos: iJReview

Walk MS

My day was a little extra special today. Steven and I woke up at 7am this morning, which is ridiculously early for us on a Sunday, and we met up with Nick, Kristi, baby Evan, Lisa and George. We headed for the city, which let me just tell you makes me so angry. Why on earth does it take over an hour to make it to work in the morning, but on a Sunday morning it took 15 minutes to go farther in to Boston than normal!? Traffic is quite possibly the most annoying moment of day (tied with people being too close to me on the subway, people talking loudly on the subway, Chinatown subway stop, well, let's just say everything that involves the subway). Thankfully, we avoided the subway today, and made our way to...Boston University Parking and Transportation Office...which needless to say was not the "parking garage" we thought we were going to. PS this was Steven's bad directions. He's never allowed to call me "the nagigator" again. 

After our short detour to the Parking Office, we joined many other orange clad people at Nickerson Field for Boston's Walk MS. I signed up for this walk in early February; however, it took me over a month to tell anyone or invite anyone. This was my first experience joining any sort of MS event, and I was quite honestly very hesitant to do so. 

I walked (and drove...) with double vision and choked down metallic tasting diet coke for several weeks before finally visiting the eye doctor. Yes, I realize now my first choice of doctor wasn't quite what I was looking for, but I think a part of me was nervous something was wrong, and the eye doctor seemed the least threatening. Besides, who knows! Maybe he'd give me some double-vision-reversing glasses and I could go back to work! That first appointment started a domino effect of doctors appoint that accumulated in one very odd neurologist, who only made eye contact with my left ear, that I had Multiple Sclerosis. 

At first, I was really mad. I think if you look close enough at my car's steering wheel, you will see palm indentations from very angry drives home from my left ear obsessed neuro. I didn't want to talk about it with anyone, and I may or may not have scheduled my lumbar puncture at the same time as my sister's cesarean section birth so my dear mother would be busy with the arrival of sweet Dafne. You could say I was in a bit of denial.

The road from there to here has had its ups and its downs. Sometimes I forget I even have MS. Other times I can't sleep at night worrying about giving my babies MS, or not being able to see them when they're born, or hold them, or walk with them. When we were first dating, I was worried Steven didn't fully grasp what being with me could possibly entail, but, even before we were dating, he always explained that everyone at some point will have a something; no sense in fretting over the inevitable. Three years later and every day I am shocked at how he still truly does believe this. He is my rock that I didn't know I would need, and I am so amazed at the bravery and trust he doesn't even know he has. 

The last couple weeks have been so humbling as the support and love flowed in from literally all across the country--Maine, Idaho, Hawaii and more! I was scared to ask for people's money, and even more nervous thinking about what people might say, but within the first couple days the responses I had received were incredible. To see the unquestioned support from so many helped me not just deal with MS, but it helped me see I have more options than I have seen in 5 years. 

It was a beautiful day, and I walked every step of that 5K holding my husband's hand, and I've never felt better. It isn't just about raising money for research, but it is about the inspiration and love you feel about MS that you may never have felt before. 

If you didn't get the chance to donate earlier, my amazing family decided that since they couldn't join me today in Boston, they would join Walk MS SLC on April 25th. I was truly touched by their involvement, and I can't wait for them to have such a beautiful day as I have had today. They set a $1,000 team goal, and every donation helps! Click here to donate: Team Walking Wallentines