My Supposed to be Surprise Party

While I was at Time Out for Women, Mario and the kids decided to throw me a surprise birthday party for my 39th birthday.  They went to my favorite party store-The Dollar Tree and bought lots of princess theme party stuff.  The twins were especially excited.  But knowing nothing about the party, I announced to the family that I thought we should go out of town for a couple days and visit an Amana colony and an Amish community in Iowa.  No one seemed to excited to go.  But I persisted since it was my birthday.

Well, Mario was agreeable but then finally told me that they had planned a party for Saturday night.  I was surprised.  Mario has never done anything like that in the past so I had no idea.  I asked if we could move the party to Sunday evening and we could still go out of town.  Mario agreed and we packed our bags and just had to wait for kids to get out of school on Friday to leave.  Mario and I decided to fit in a temple session before the kids got out of school and while sitting in the Celestial room, I felt that we shouldn't go on our trip.  I don't know why, but when the spirit speaks, I try to listen.

So the party went on as planned but one family couldn't make it so I invited a couple other families to come.  So we had close to 30 people Saturday night.  It was a lot of fun to get together with friends.  It was sweet that my family planned it for me and I feel slightly guilty that I almost ruined it by insisting that we go out of town.

The Gift of a Piano by Eric

Eric didn't really want me to put this on my blog.  But it's my birthday and I think it's a perfect gift.  So here it goes.  Hopefully he won't take it down.

Eric Perez
English 10 Honors
Mrs. Roberts
25 April 2013
                                                         The Gift of a Piano
       Making music is more than just a hobby or a way to make money; it is a form of art that has personal meaning. It becomes a part of who you are and helps you develop into something better. For me, the ability to play piano is a gift, given to me first by parents, and later I gave to myself.
My family, from my grandparents, inherited the first piano I ever owned. I was only one-year-old, much too young to even know what a piano was. It was an antique, upright piano with faded wood and chipped keys. It sat against the wall of my house in Florida and went with me to Guam, where it remained an unused instrument, something that should never exist.
       Finally in Hawaii, at the age of seven, I was old enough to learn to play. I envisioned myself playing like people do in movies or on television or in songs. My parents found a teacher, Ms. Solomon, and my lessons began. She was nice enough, came to my house every week and spent half an hour with me, teaching me what fingers to play the dots on lines and how to make them mean something.
      I quickly learned that learning to play an instrument wasn’t an easy or fast journey. Discouraged by the effort required, seven year old me decided that piano was something to be hated, not loved. I would fight my mom every time it was time to practice. I was convinced that she was making me play to make me suffer. Piano was a punishment for some unknown crime. Little did I know that it would be easier for my mom to let me quit playing.
     Teachers changed, skill levels changed, but constant fighting with my mom to practice continued for the next seven years. Finally my parents and I came to an agreement, where I, as the victim of their torture, got the worse side of the compromise. I could quit piano once I became an Eagle Scout. So I became an Eagle Scout, but my parents would bribe me with things I wanted, from paintball guns to new phones, to keep taking lessons for a few more months. Of course, a fourteen-year-old boy can’t resist the temptation of new paintball equipment, so I continued lessons until we moved to Nebraska.
     When I finally left my Arizona teacher, I never found a new one in Nebraska. I decided that I was done with playing music. Somehow, contrary to how I should have felt, I ended up loving piano the second I quit taking lessons. Finally I had the freedom to play the songs I wanted, at the pace I could handle, at the time I wanted to play. I was playing more than ever, moving from song to song as quickly as I could find new music. My parents, noticing my sudden interest in my “new” passion, asked if I wanted to find a new teacher. I immediately shot that idea down; I was my own teacher.
     All those eight years, I had kept the same antique upright piano, with its keys more chipped than before and its legs breaking from so many moves. That year, around my birthday, I got a new piano. It was a shiny black, beautiful baby grand piano. I would like to say that I stayed loyal to my old piano, but I couldn’t resist the sound of the new one. Never since that day have I played my old piano.
Playing piano, though I don’t talk about it often, is not a useless skill. My piano, sitting in the front room of my house, is usually the first thing people notice. This becomes especially useful when I invite girls over and the first thing they ask is if I play. Being a teenager, I don’t feel the least bit bad about showing off the skill I’d worked the last eight years for. Those eight years were a struggle, with me not realizing how valuable the gift of music is, but now playing piano will always be a passion of mine.

FHE

The temperature finally climbed back up to 68 degrees today so we ate dinner on the back porch and then continued our FHE activities at the park. I realized that if we were in Florida and it were 68 degrees, we'd probably be bundled up in blankets. But 68 degrees here (and in Monterey) feels great. It was Eric's idea to come to the park for FHE which surprised me because I don't think I would ever have asked to go hang at the park with my family when I was a teen. But Mario plays tag and all kinds of crazy games with the kids so they love it.

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The Good and the Bad

I was so thrilled when Zach brought this to me this morning before church:

Then we sat through Sacrament meeting and he was no longer on my good side.  Nor was his twin.  As a punishment for being super wiggly, loud, and distracting during church, I told the boys they had to write 100 sentences when we got home.   I probably wouldn't be so mean if this was a one time occurrence but unfortunately it is not.   I'm convinced that they take full advantage of being the youngest and want to act like they are 4.

They immediately sat down to do them and after 2 hours, Zach had 84 done and I took pity on him and let him stop.  It's been 3.5 hours and Nate is still working.  I am hoping that next time they decide to be distracting in church, they will remember how much their hands hurt after writing all these sentences.  Zach just told me his hand didn't hurt, so maybe next time I'll have to make the sentences longer and add another 100.  I thought it would be super mean to have Mario write out a Spanish sentence and make them copy that.  Oooh.....that would be tough!  They'd have to keep looking how to spell every word.  Plus there would be accent marks.

Overlooking Things

Ok, I admit...I complain when someone doesn't do what I expect or want them to do.  Maybe nag is a good word for me.  But the last few months I came to realize something...Mario never criticizes me for anything.  He must be very good at overlooking all my faults.  He never complains if I leave all my hair and makeup stuff all over the bathroom counter (which is daily).  He never complains if I make oatmeal for dinner because I didn't plan anything else (even though I am home most of the day.)  He never complains when he comes home to a house that isn't clean (even though I am home most of the day.)  When our kids were younger and I didn't get something clean or done, I would apologize, even though he didn't say a word about it.  After my apology he would say something sweet like, "I'd much rather you spend your day playing with the kids then cleaning the house."  And I would think to myself, "Well that's not exactly what I did all day, but I guess I won't admit that to you."

Now my kids are all in school and I have 7 1/2 glorious hours all to myself.  But I sometimes don't get to all the cleaning (especially all the laundry folding.)  But he still doesn't complain.  I almost wish he would because I am starting to realize that I am the only one that complains.  I got in my car that had 1/8th of a tank of gas.  He had told me on Saturday that he'd fill it up.  He must have forgotten.  I wanted to immediately text him and tell him that he forgot.  But this time, I decided to let it go.  I mean, the poor guy went all last week with two loads of laundry unfolded.  I think he even ran the second load through the washer and dryer himself.  The least I could do with all my kids in school is fold the laundry.

So I decided to follow his example and overlook the empty gas tank.  I know I complain and it's a really bad habit.  When I lived in Monterey I wore a bracelet on my risk for several days to remind me that if I didn't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all.  Maybe Mario and my kids would appreciate it if dug that bracelet out again.

I am going to try harder to follow his example.  He is a big reason that we have such a happy marriage. And no, Mario didn't hack my blog this time.  I actually wrote this all myself.  I hope my kids will learn from his example and not mine.  I know they will have happy marriages if they are more like Mario and overlook faults.  

Braces and Going to the Temple

Mario became the 4th member of the family to get braces in the last four years.  A friend from church is the orthodontist on base and he agreed to put braces on Mario, all free compliments of the Air Force.  Mario had braces and the headgear as a teenager but he broke his retainer and so his teeth quickly became very crooked again on the bottom.  In fact, we pretty much had the same bottom teeth.  But I had mine fixed 4 years ago.  He looks like a teenager again and we make fun of him every chance we get.  Poor Mario.  I am super excited for him to get them off in a year.  He's having a lot of regrets getting them but I think in a year, he'll be very grateful.  Besides, when it's free, who can resist?!

I have taken on another tutoring student.  The mother is persistant and was able to get her public school to agree to let me come in during the school day to tutor her (because we are both busy in the evenings.)  So come next week, my days may be filled with lots of tutoring. So as I reflected on the fact my free time was dwindling quickly, I thought that I really should have taken more advantage of going to the Temple on Friday mornings (the only weekday morning it is open) while the kids are at school.  Mario and I love to go in the evenings together but I feel bad leaving kids and also I don't really consider going to the Temple a date night.  I guess that's dumb and I should be really appreciative that we can go and it is so close.  Our goal was to go weekly, but lately we seem to get so busy.  We are really only able to make it once a month usually.

But anyway, I woke up Friday morning determined to go to the Temple for the 10 am session.  I got showered and dressed to go.  I had a few errands to run after taking kids to school and before the session.  While running errands, my cell phone calendar alert went off.  Oh no!  What did I have scheduled?  Visiting teachers coming at 10.  Darn.  I really was so excited about going to the Temple that morning.  I thought about calling them and canceling, but I decided that I shouldn't take that opportunity from them.  I went home and waited and waited and waited.  By 11 am, it was apparent they weren't coming.  I decided to go to the noon session.  I jumped in my car and realized that my Temple clothing were in Mario's car and that car was at the mechanic.  Darn.  Well, I would do Initiatories instead.  I got about 10 miles down the road and decided I better call the Temple and make sure that there was an open slot.  No such luck.  Darn again!  I wanted to cry as I drove home.  I felt certain that Satan must have been trying to keep me from going to the Temple that day.

After being home for a few minutes, my VT called and offered a very sincere apology.  She had to take her son to the ER for a shoulder injury.  Of course, I couldn't be upset with her.  Even if she didn't have a good excuse, I have forgotten in the past too.  I was determined to make it to the Temple that day.  Mario convinced me to wait until this morning to go.  So I got up early and left.  Mario wanted to go with me but he had just gone on Wednesday night with the youth.  I told him that I really wanted this time to go by myself and not feel rushed to get back outside to call the kids and make sure they hadn't killed each other yet.  He agreed and he planned a morning of chores for the kids.

It was wonderful having that time alone in the car driving the half hour to the Temple.  I put on some soft church music and reflected on how blessed I am to have such a wonderful husband that treats me so well and that I love so much and also my four beautiful children that Heavenly Father has entrusted us with.  I love each of them so much and I am trying to be the mother that Heavenly Father wants me to be.

I loved my time in the Temple.  I loved that I could take my time in the Celestial Room to pray.  I am so grateful that Mario and I took the time to think out this move to Omaha.  We are so blessed to have a Temple so close.  I feel we were wise in our decision to move here.

I want my children to know that there may be days like yesterday where it seems like there are many things keeping you from going to the Temple.  Don't give up.  Make it a priority and just go.  No matter what...It will be worth putting the wordly things aside for the moment.  You can't get that same peace anywhere else.

Pot Of Gold and Lamborghini

The boys wrote these in school.  Do you notice what they have in common?

I think I like Nate's the best because I'm missing Hawaii these days as we are still having winter weather in the middle of April here in Nebraska.  We got teased with 70 degrees last week.  But it sure didn't last long.  We had lots of freezing rain and snowflakes the last couple days.

What a blessing to have lived in paradise for 3 years.  If you consider Guam to be a paradise too, then that would make 5 years in paradise.

Grandma Bay, Amish, and General Conference

My parents came the day before Easter and were planning to spend a week and a half with us in Omaha before heading out to Utah for their mission.   Mario and I were planning a short getaway to Kansas City and to Jamesport, Missouri to visit the Amish community.  But my grandmother was hospitalized and then released but needed around the clock care.  So my parents needed to head back to take care of her in Missouri.   They plan to cancel their mission and stay with her until they can convince her to move back to Florida with them.   They headed back to Missouri on Wednesday morning and by Wednesday afternoon, I decided to head down with the twins to visit my grandma too since I haven't seen her since last July.  

It was a long 6 1/2 hour drive and I hate driving.  My sister teases me that I took 4 days to travel from Tucson to the Grand Canyon a few years back.  The boys and I got in at 8:30 that evening and were able to spend a few minutes with her before heading off to the hotel.  Then we went back and visited her the next morning before we went to Meramec Springs that is just down the road from her home.  The boys had a great time at the park.  Then we went back to my grandmother's house and visited a couple more hours.  It was so good to sit and visit with her.  I have such fond memories from my childhood of going to her house to spend the night, picking berries off her bushes, and also going to eat Sunday dinner at her home during the years they lived close by.  I thought that she looked great considering all that she had been through with having to be hooked up to oxygen and the recent hospital visit.   It was sad to say goodbye but she looked so good, that I am confident she'll be around for a while longer.

I decided that I better break the trip home into 2 days so we left late that afternoon and drove up to Independence, Missouri and visited the church sites there.  We got a hotel and the next morning we toured Liberty Jail.  The boys and I really enjoyed our visit at the jail.  There was a strong Spirit there. After the jail, we took off for Jamesport to see the Amish.  I am obsessed with the Amish.  As a child, I was obsessed with  the Mafia so anyone that criticizes by Amish obsession should just appreciate that I am no longer into watching Mafia movies.  I love Amish books and the people in general.  I love how they are so forgiving.  I love how they don't have to deal with all the trash that we have to deal with today in modern society.  They are such simple, loving people.  Mario always jokes that I am ready to convert.  Ha!

The boys were excited to go with me to visit their community.  We arrived with no plans or agenda.  We pulled into the tiny town and I saw a few Amish buggies and a few stores, but they looked very "English."  So I found a pamphlet at City Hall and called a tour guide.  He met me about 30 minutes later and took us on a tour of the whole town.  We quickly found out that there aren't many Amish within the city limits.  You have to travel a couple miles out of town to see all their farms.  We watched the children play baseball at recess.  We visited an Amish thrift store.  I thought about buying an Amish dress and telling Mario that I decided to convert.  But Zach found a vest that he wanted so I bought that instead.  I found one for Eric too.  We went to a couple bakeries and bought lots of yummy treats like donut holes, cookies, and pies. Everything was so fresh and good.  We went to a furniture store and one day I plan to buy some (when I have my Venice home paid off) and we aren't moving every couple years.  The furniture is pricey but so beautiful. The only thing I bought at the furniture store was a wood cutting board.  I bought some baskets at one of the bakeries.   The boys got so excited when the first couple Amish people spoke to us.  They thought they talked a little funny.   To me, it was a dream come true to visit their community.  I wish that I could have been there with Mario, but the boys were a good substitute.  After bringing home some of the baked goods, Mario got excited to go there himself.  So hopefully we'll be able to make it over there before we leave Omaha in a couple years.

Today was filled with conference talks at my house.  I remember when I was a kid, I didn't enjoy conference. My parents only made us watch the Sunday morning conference.  As an adult, I look forward to conference in April and October.  I can't get enough of the talks. I need all the advice I can on being a better wife, mother and Christian.   What a blessing to have the Priesthood on the earth and to have inspired leaders to give us messages that are perfect for our time.  I love cuddling up on the couch with my paper and pen (and lots of conference snacks-picked out by Eric this year). So as you can see, I pretty committed to my church.  Despite what Mario thinks, I am not converting to Amish anytime soon.