A mother that stands out from all the other

When I say that I have the best Mom, I mean it. No one has advised me better, loved me better than my mommy. What do I remember about my Mom?

I saw many things that others did not. I saw her courage, her compassion, her fierce, determined belief that her children can be happy. She spent hours each day homeschooling me, even though I complained, whined and sassed her at every turn. I remember her helping my brothers and sisters, loving my brothers and sisters. She did this unquestionably, even when they cursed her name, brought her unnecessary pain.

I remember my brother beating the walls, threatening her life and still her speaks her name as though it were something dirty. Why? I can't begin to understand. And with all this, she continues to love him, continues to welcome him home, continues to help him. Her many long trips to Baltimore, with an infant. Her many long trips to offer love through her actions. My mother isn't one to spew gushy words that mean nothing, she's one to show her undying, unquestioning love through her actions.

She's done what had to be done. She's made decisions that weren't easy, that caused her pain. She made decisions that made her "the bad guy" when it would've been so easy to do what wasn't good for them.

I remember all the parenting books. I remember her studying those books. Trying their techniques and learning through her own mistakes. She, in my eyes, has practically mastered the are of being a mother. I remember all the time she helped me to become the best that I can be. I remember being chased by dogs when I was little, crying and screaming and my mom throwing rocks at them to chase them away.

I remember being sick and my mother placing a cold washcloth across my forehead, sticking medicine in my applesauce because she knew I hated the taste.

All the phone calls she answered from me, all my silly complaints, my needy, fearful self looking for love from her mother and receiving it.

I think of all the miles she's driven for us, thousand and thousand of miles, I don't think any mother has driven as much as mine has for her children.

10 babies, 20 years of diaper changing, and years to come of raising angry, moody teenagers and yet she loves all of us, dedicates her life to us, never lacks in giving us attention, when we would let her.

I remember the hurt, the betrayal she's suffered and yet still she loves.

My mother is extremely intelligent, she didn't have to let herself stay in the home, taking care of us but she did.

She didn't let her past, her parents poor parenting, lack of parenting be a crutch, stand in the way, she rose above it. She gives her family the best they can be given. She gives to the family, even when their disinterest hurts, their lack of time hurts, their lack of caring hurts.

So many question large families, question how one woman can adequately raise all those kids but I don't question my mother. I wouldn't change any of the decisions she's made. I know she made them from love, from trusting God.

She's learned, she's grown and she's never quit on any of us. She's loved us.

Imagine spending years, in the house, raising babies, toddlers, adolescents . . . all at the same time.

And yet, she found time for each of us; soccer, football, tee-ball, softball, baseball, band, cheerleading, violin, piano, whatever it was, she always helped us to pursue our dreams.

I remember the many people who came up to me as a child, told me how wonderful my mother is. I understand now. I have the best mother. No doubt.

She's a beautiful, selfless woman, mother, wife and daughter of God. Happy Birthday Mom.

Where have all the genuine people gone?

Our minds are filled with Facebook, cellphones, email, phone calls, twitter. I can't help but wonder where a good conversation can be found, where a real ear turns to listen?

Sincerity seems to have disappeared, sincerity has turned into selfishness. I can't remember the last conversation I had where the person ACTUALLY cared what I had to say. I can't remember the last time --besides talking to my mother and my boyfriend -- that someone gave a damn as to what I had to say.

Its not just with me. I see it with others. I've witnessed conversations where it seemed the other person was just talking to a wall. My belief: If its important to you, then its important to me.

You want to be a good listener? Quit nodding your head at me and saying, "yes" and "cool." Anyone can say that and not be listening. Try ACTIVELY listening. Ask someone questions, make a comment.

How many people do you chase away with your insincerity? Your lack of interest?

There are some people that I don't bother opening up to, my answers and my comments are very blaze'. Why? Because they've never given any indication that they care. The best friend is someone that follows up, even when they are busy.

Its the simple things. How are you? Hows the relationship? Job? My friend J.R. proves that he cares, even though I know he's busy, by asking me how I am, what I am up to. My other best friend, Lauren, shows she cares even when she is busy.

Its not that I'm looking for proof of your friendship, I just won't treasure your friendship as much as theres because they're sincere people. I like to think I am sincere, I try to be.

I may have a boy friend, I may be stressed as hell but still I am always there for my friends, for strangers, for anyone who may have need of me.

I sense that you're there but how fully are you really there? BE sincere. Give me your ear. Yes, you're helping others but how sincere, how genuine is your caring?

BE the sincere person. Listen. Act. Listen.

Facebook: Tracking the stressed, the depressed and the suicidal

Yes, Facebook is a great way to social network but what other purposes does it have?

Needy, lonesome people commit suicide. Lonesome, lonely people get on Facebook. Are you seeing the connection I am making?

I sure hope so. I feel that Facebook can be used as more than just an outlet to stalk old boyfriends, brag about your current boyfriend and post wedding photos -- I'm currently doing all those things, yes, even the wedding pictures . . .

Facebook currently has over 500 million members, 1 in 13 people on earth use Facebook. Over 30,000 suicides occur a year, that is approximately 83 suicides a day. 14 million people suffer from depression and only 20 percent of people who suffer from depression are diagnosed.

Do we want to leave these million suffering? Isn't there a way to fix this problem? I hear stories of Facebook being used to bully, to inflict pain on others. With people posting "fat" comments, "ugly" comments and other demeaning things on people's walls. But Facebook can provide an opportunity to reach out to those that need to be reached. Its an an opportunity to find those who are reaching. I see the constant statuses, depressing statuses. I see morbid pictures. I hear their cries. I should answer those cries.

And, of course, this goes for all the new, modern technology that we so eagerly embrace. There is a lot you can do with what you have, with what you have been pointlessly been using.

And I'm not saying to just look for the suicidal, the depressed. Oftentimes, you can find those that are stressed, those that are hurting, those that have traumatic experiences, those in need of help.

This is a great way to really be a friend on Facebook, be a real friend, use it for something worthwhile.

I really don't think I'll ever fall in love. I just don't have it in me. I really don't. I've tried, tried, tried and I can't seem to fall.

Facebook: An easy way to cheat on your significant other.

Facebook: An easy way to cheat on your significant other.

You can be talking to someone on Facebook, maybe a stranger, maybe a person you've met in passing, maybe an old boyfriend, maybe an old lover and suddenly you start feeling those feelings again, or you feel new feelings.

Whatever it is, you feel something; probably close to itching on your innards-- at least that’s how I used to feel when I would meet someone new who was hot, talented, and had potential to be my newest hearth throb. Of course I use past tense because I have this AMAZING boyfriend --that is way better than yours will ever be-- and now I resist those urges (yes, I am totally hyping up, bragging about and rubbing in your face this whole boyfriend thing)

But like I was saying, it becomes exciting. You both have profiles pictures that make you look way better than you really are, you make your lives sound like you're the President or Charlie Sheen and it doesn't necessarily feel like cheating since you're just "harmlessly" chatting on Facebook.

But be careful. It may not even start with a casual Facebook chat, it may be a comment on a picture, your status, something to set it off and there you go.

We read about how Facebook is a "self-esteem" booster. Well, how great is it that this hot man is boosting your self-esteem?

Just remember this "hot" man knows you're in a relationship or married (it is displayed in your profile info) so why is he talking to you?

All I'm saying is, be careful. Facebook can be an easy way to cheat, whether you care to admit it or not. Flirting, overly chatting with a person of the opposite gender, going throught their photos to check them out.

All of this is some minor form of cheating and I'm sure common sense tells you this. So, those of you who are in a committed relationship: (myself included :P) Be

Wedding means Maryland

I'm going back to Maryland . . . for a day. Guess there are even more perks to having a boy friend. I would've been heart broken to go home for a day and then leave again but now I have something to miss in Utah.

Wow, can't believe I just said it. I will miss something in Utah. I mean Jamba Juice is something I always missed but . . . not really. Now, I really have something to miss.

Oh and I will totally miss my amazing internship with Deseret News. This weekend will be so busy that I probably will want it to end. But, at least I get some of my Saturday with Brandon and Michael.

And then I spend a day in Maryland, a day in North Carolina and then straight back to Utah. Crazy, crazy.

Oooooohhhh read my blog!

I want hits, so maybe if I drop names or words like Amanda Bynes, Nick Cannon, Ryan Seacrest, 7.4 earthquake, Notorious B.I.G, Oprah Winfrey, Chronic Pain management, interest rates then you will read my blog? I just took all these words/names off of Yahoo's trending list

No? You've thought about clicking out of here by now, right? First you should check out some of my previous posts and you should read my next post, which will probably brag about the surprisingly, amazing guy I am currently dating. Yep, I'm throwing that blog in here.

Think I'm gonna call it, "My BF is better than your BF :P" so, keep your eyes open and you can tell me if yours is better and then tell me why, cause I won't believe you.

Cheating is not so bad . . . for men . . . load of crap

The article is entitled "How Women Cheat Differently" and he seems to be just making some nice observations on how when a woman cheats its worse than a man cheating. This may very well be true but I feel like the author of this article is a cheater or potential cheater and he's lessening the seriousness of a man cheating.

Why? Because his focus is all about how men are thinking more with their 'junk' when they cheat and women are focusing more with their heart.

Again, this may be true. But this article was written to simply lessen the fact that a man has cheated, that a man cheats the most, that men are pigs. This man's article is just him trying to get back into bed with his wife and excuse his cheating.

Lets take the focus off of men and the fact that they cheat more and focus on how serious it when women cheat and how excusable it is when men do.

So, if you are man and you've cheated this is the perfect article to share with your wife or girlfriend after you cheat on her. And as for the guy, who wrote it, looks like his wife let him get off after he fed her this hogwash.

Government will use Facebook, Twitter to warn of terrorist attacks

The threat of terrorist attacks remains a reality in the U.S., to the point that the government has decided to turn to Twitter and Facebook to post warnings when serious threats develop.

While the Department of Homeland Security was reworking its five-color coded terror index — which needed tweaks due to criticisms that it was too vague and hard for the public to understand — department officials decided that if a situation is serious enough, Facebook and Twitter will be used to alert the public.

Of course, before an alert can be posted, the notification process will first include providing information to members of Congress; then counterterrorism officials in states and cities; then the governors and mayors; and then the public.

In determining the seriousness of a situation, the five-color terror index will be replaced with a two-category system: imminent and elevated.

The alert system that would include Twitter and Facebook is expected to be in place by April 27, according to Fox News.

To see the rest of the story click here

Death in your passenger seat

One time I forgot to feed my hamster. I forgot to feed my hamster for a whole week. By the time I noticed my hamster hadn't been fed, his ribs were poking out and he was barely breathing.

He died, and I cried. I believe I was thirteen. Yes, it's sad that I didn't notice my hamster, forgot my hamster and was the cause of his death. I still feel guilty about it.

But, I would hope that if a dead woman's body were composing in the passenger seat of my car, I would notice. It's like that gruesome story, "A Rose for Emily" where her dead fiancé's body composed in her bed, where she sleeps, for years.

Obviously this man must have some problems, if he can just drive around aimlessly, while his dead friend decomposes next to him for three days.

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Padded bikinis make your child a potential rape victim

If my sisters ever wore a padded bikini , I'd flip. If I ever saw anyone dressing their daughter in a padded bikini, I'd flip.

Why would you want to be fake? Are we teaching our children, our youth that putting or adding things to your body is OK? I don't think it is, actually I know it isn't ok.

Sometimes I worry that even make-up is too much. I'm putting stuff on my face tha makes me look like a different person, may even make me look insecure. I know that push up bras, padded bras are all very deceiving, shallow and speak of low self esteem, of insecurity.

Plus, putting a padded bikini on a child is liking asking that child to mature a little faster, grow-up a little faster. Its like putting a sign around their neck that says "Rape me." You want your seven-year-old to wear a padded bikini? Then be prepared for teenage boys to hit on your daughter.

Children need to enjoy being children and wait till they are actually developed and adults need to focus on RAISING their children and not dressing their children. The End.

They've blessed my life and so many others

A lot of things have happened in the years that I've been away at school. Things I haven't been able to truly take in. The greatest thing? Death. I haven't been home in a while, not for a long while. What does home mean for me? It means my family and this means my home ward, I've always considered them family.

I haven't been able to take in the events that have ripped through my ward these past few months. We had a very . . . alive ward. I don't remember there ever being death or hardly ever. And when someone did die, it was someone I didn't know or hardly knew but lately . . . there have been some people I have always held a dear and will continue to hold a dear place in my heart.

To one of the most recently deceased, Vicki Brown, your happy presence will be missed by me. Vicki Brown's life wasn't easy, probably one of the hardest lives to live in the ward. But she always smiled, always had a special smile for everyone. I won't forget the last time I saw her. There was so much joy and happiness in our exchange. And I will never forget spending the day wrapping presents with Vicki a couple Christmas' ago. I remember going with my visiting teaching and we'd go visit Vicki Brown. That was when I first truly met Vicki and I've loved her dearly since then. I will never forget her stories of Ricks and I will never forget the love I most admired between Vicki and Sam Brown. Such love is a testament to all of us that this Church is true.

I will never forget when Patriarch Zane Mason laid his hands on my head, when he gave me my long procrastinated patriarchal blessing. I will never forget the sailing trip he took us on last summer, I'm so glad I chose his sail boat. I will never forget my joy at seeing him in Idaho Falls last Spring. Such happiness I needed at that time. He was a piece of home and I hadn't seen home for such a long time. I remember when I first saw Patriarch Mason, I believe I was five, and for years I thought he was the Prophet. I will never forget the Sundays he would come up to me and tell me how beautiful my mother was, how she was someone to be admired. I couldn't agree with him more.

John Everett, truly an amazing man who left a completely wonderful family behind. He always boosted my self-esteem. As a teenage girl, who thought she was ugly, I didn't feel so ugly when John Everett made sure to always hug me and tell me how beautiful me I was. John was always great with people, great at understanding what they needed at that moment, whether it was loving words or playful ones. His kindness was immense. I know he is missed. I know from the way his grandsons talk of him, the love the ward felt for him. I miss his kind words, his kind face, his kind soul.

Frederick Fischetti was a quietly kind man. I remember I used to babysit for the Fischetti's. I was at first intimidated by Brother Fischetti. He was a strong man, with a strong presence and even when he was sick, he was strong. It was a couple years after I started babysitting, when he was in charge of Sunday School that I saw such greatness in him. His testimony was one I'd never forget. His comments in class were always deep, one's that touched the hearts of those in the class. He was a quiet, strong, kind man that loved his family very much. His actions always spoke of that to me.

Frank Smith, such a viral, strong man. Even during his last days he had a strength that was unbelievable, an ability to hold on to life, to appreciate life and make the most of it. I remember Diane Smith's stories of Frank. He was a great husband, a great father and his kindness will never be forgotten. I know my parents admired him and always enjoyed visiting Frank and his family. We were so excited when they moved into the neighborhood, it was great to have members of the Church so nearby. The simple sweetness of the Smiths was so very refreshing in a world filled with so much fakeness, such a kind, loving family. There were a lot of people who cared and loved Frank, I saw that during his last days here on earth.

Sandy Rose, when I was little I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the ward. I always thought there was a quiet, radiant beauty in Sandy Rose. Her testimony was strong, I always felt that in her words, in her deeds. Her style was simple, her actions poignant. Sandy Rose was an extremely intelligent woman and while I didn't know her too well, I remember she loved gardening, loved her calling in the Family History Center and she was always so willing to help, to love those around her.

I would also like to mention Jon Caless, he passed a couple years ago but I will never forget Brother Caless. I was shy when I turned fourteen and started attending youth activities. I didn't make friends, I was often standing alone. Jon Caless friended me. He saw my photography interest and found a way to connect with me. We always joked, talked of cameras and I believe he is one of the overwhelming factors in choosing journalism as my career. His death was the first death in my life that I actually truly felt, truly understood. He gave so much in this life, I can't imagine how much more he is giving in the next.

And so, my memories do poor justice to such amazing people and they truly were . . . truly are amazing. They have moved on, gone to do even more amazing things. They had great impact on my life and so many others. And so, I mourn them, I miss them but I also look forward to the day when I shall meet them again.

Walking away . . .

I walk away. I've made it seem easy to the men I've dated. We breakup, or we end what never really began and I never talk to them again. Its easy. Right?

It's not. The walk away doesn’t hurt too much, at first. Actually, it burns. It stings and my eyes water for the next 24 hours. After that the presence of tears disappear, the hurt fades quickly. I find someone or something to replace them. But they don't just disappear.

Even with this last one. He was fine, he feels no regret, no sadness. It seems the men I "walk" away from are always fine. But I never feel quite settled. Even now, I still wonder what I was lacking, I still miss the conversations, I still miss what we seemingly had.

And while I don't talk of them and I pretend I never really felt anything for them; I believe I must have felt something because later they are still not forgotten.

A song plays, "Skinny Love," "Unchained Melody," "Start a Fire," something that links me to them and then I miss them, I miss those moments, those memories. And so they never really disappear and I never really just walk away. I either miss them or I resent them -- maybe its mixture of both.

But eventually they'll fade, they're fading, they've faded, they are forgotten, nothing but a bitter taste and yet the taste still arises.

I wish I could just walk away, completely forget but it seems I never forget. But, I move on, I love some one else and eventually they're love encompasses all and all those seemingly forgotten, bitter memories are truly forgotten.

I must remember my Savior, always.

I truly can't wait for the scripts of this past General Conference to be published this Thursday. Yay!

I wanna get a beach body for July. Maybe I want it too bad. But if things work out then I want to take my man to the beach and I want to look hot for him. So, we've both started dieting. But freaky story.

I was down ten pounds when a couple days after reading this weight I was feeling fat. I've been eating healthy, eating less. I didn't know what my deal was. I thought I was just being a girl, just feeling fat. I was wrong. I complained to my boy that I was feeling pleasantly plump. One pull on my stomach and he agreed. It was huge. It wasn't hard, I wasn't in pain, I had just chubbed-up. It was crazy.

I was feeling down, feeling fat. But, oddly enough, just a couple days later I was back down ten pounds. It was all pretty freaky, pretty weird. In the long run, I am just happy to be back down and losing weight. Can't wait to reach my new goal weight, cause guess what? I've reached my original goal weight!

I'm gonna write a book about a window

The tiny house, built in the 1890's, between two similar looking houses but that’s where the similarities end, appearance only.

She walked out, her hand wrapped in his. "A porch swing would look so great, right here," she said as she pulled her hand from his and gestured to the nook on the front porch that begged to be filled with something. He agreed and mumbled something about an A.C. unit and putting in real A.C. but she really wasn't paying attention.

She was looking at the little window; the window that seemed so randomly placed. It didn't make sense. Admittedly it gave it charm, when seen but it was never really seen and it was never really used.

But she noticed the window and because she noticed it, she felt it was used. But the door blocked it from really being used and looking in nothing could be seen. She smiled over the window. To her it showed that the house had a little something, a little extra.

And the house had something extra but it wasn't something she would be smiling about.