when mom comes to visit

Mom and Sarah left yesterday.

{insert deep sigh and hanging shoulders here}

They were here for almost a week, and we packed in most things on our Portland to-do list while still feeling relaxed and on vacation. In addition to shopping at Marshall's, Kohl's, Nordstrom Rack, Gymboree, Mill End, and Powell's, we baked a cake, homemade hamburger buns, and salted pretzel peanut butter M&M cookies; ate Mexican food, Thai food, and crepes; watched October Sky, the first season of Downton Abbey, several episodes of Andy Griffith, and saw Austenland in theaters; ate at Salt and Straw, hit up the zoo, and even canned some peaches. We clamored around Asher and applauded every thing he did and talked and lounged and stayed in vacation mode the whole time. I had such a fun time hanging with Sarah and celebrating her fifteenth birthday all week long.

Oh how I miss them.

I know that not every daughter can say this about her mother, but for me, life is just easier with Mom around. She loves my baby, makes me feel great at everything I do, fixes zippers on my dresses, and even folds my laundry. Some days living 1,280 miles apart is just really hard. Especially when just yesterday she was right in your kitchen.

Sigh, indeed.

last week at this time

Last week at this time I had just tried on all of these clothes as part of my birthday present of a new fall wardrobe.

Last week at this time we had already gone crazy at Fabric Depot, bought new shoes at Marshalls, and found needed organizational tools at IKEA.

We had already organized and purged my closet.

These days had been preceded by a weekend with my mom and dad, which included a trip to the Rose Gardens

 

 

and which culminated in Asher's baby blessing at church.

We were still looking forward to unpacking my dishes from Grandma.

Plus we still hadn't had dinner at Nicholas's, lunch at the California Pizza Kitchen, and another lunch at Fir Point Farms. We still hadn't found those perfect tweed slacks for Asher at Gymboree.

We still had Bernie and War Horse to rent from Redbox and at least three more Big Gulps to consume. We still had half a season to watch of Parenthood and so many more grandma-Asher snuggles to enjoy.

 

Returning to life sans Mom/Grandma has not been my favorite, but I will just say that those nine days with my dad and mom were pretty much the best stay-cation ever.

reassurance

I'm sure you've been fretting over where I've been the past week (just kidding), but no fear--I've been spending the week with my mom and dad. Dad had to leave on Monday, but Mom (whose new favorite moniker is Grandma) gets to stay through the weekend.

We've been up to all sorts of wonderful, our favorite activity being fawning over this little man.

We've been supplementing our Asher time with things like Fabric Depot, fall wardobe shopping, and serious closet reorganization. Asher's been a champ through it all, and I may just have to post one more picture of this one-month-old babe.

I'll be back later this week with some real one-month Asher updates. Because as of today, he's five weeks old. Seriously.

mothers--my mother

Motherhood is on my mind almost all the time now. Obviously. This year's Mother's Day will be unique in my life, because never again will I be almost a mother but not quite yet. I'm highlighting mothers in my life this week in the hope that I can learn from them how to mother my own babe and family.

Growing up I remember we had many people coming in and out of our home--people stopping by for church callings, people dropping off or picking up things, people coming over to chat for an evening. Our home was often a hub of comings and goings and stayings and leavings.

Once or twice (and with a couple of different people) we even had teenagers who lived with us for brief stints of time. In high school my friends and my sister's friends spent lots of time over with our family. We had neighbors who came over almost daily, sharing various family occasions with us.

If we had vistiors who happened to be around come dinner, Mom often invited them to stay, willingly adding one or two more plates to the table, whether it be a run-of-the-mill weeknight or Christmas Eve dinner.

I never gave much thought to this phenonemon that was my hub of a home. Sometimes I itched for more just-my-family time, but I never resented my mother for opening our home to anybody who wanted to be there. Not too long ago I identified the characteristic that defined my home and explained its frequent visitors: My mother created a home where the Spirit could be, and because of that, our home was a safe place not only for my family but for others as well.

Whenever I'm home I feel loved and accepted, and others outside of my siblings and me feel that same love. My mom created a safe home and a loving home--a home defined by the gospel and its unique and permeating spirit.

***

As a mother, I hope to fill my home with the Spirit, with love, acceptance, and safety.

loving on technology

My mom is just too far away (and my dad and my brother and my sisters). 1,280 miles away, actually.

That's why I love situations like this:

11:22 a.m.—Send Mom an email
11:23 a.m.—Receive text from Mom
11:24 a.m.—Respond to text message
11:25 a.m.—Mom texts back
11:26 a.m.—I text back
11:27 a.m.—Mom texts back
                     Receive email from Mom
11:28 a.m.—Another text from me
11:29 a.m.—From me: "I love it that we're simultaneously texting and emailing. The best."

I'm glad that technology can make the miles not seem so long.

the graveyard shift

I'm up a little late tonight prepping the meat for tomorrow's dinner and mixing up biscuit dough. As I worked in the kitchen wearing stretchy pants, a comfy t-shirt, and an apron, I couldn't help thinking of my mother, who has spent countless nights in the kitchen graveyard shift.

I can't number the times she's spent in the kitchen at eleven at night mixing rolls for the next night's dinner, making chocolate pies for Dad to take to work, or baking a birthday cake. I can't list all the nights she's spent at her sewing machine, working until early morning hours to finish a dress, skirt, or blouse for me or my sisters, or the nights when the clock strikes midnight and she's still at the ironing board, making sure my dad and brother have white shirts for Sunday. Sometimes she's so tired she can hardly keep her eyes open, but so often she presses onward, determined that I have a first-day-of-school outfit or cinnamon rolls to give a teacher or a temple dress for my wedding.

She so frequently takes the graveyard shift not because she procrastinates or is lazy--quite the opposite. She's spent her day chaufferring me and my siblings, going to parent-teacher conferences, meeting with her counselors for her church calling, working to help support her family, caring for her elderly father, making dinner, and attending innumerable dance recitals and music concerts.

When I think of all she is and all she's done, I'm overwhelmed by her selflessness and kindness, her devotion to her husband and children. I hope that when I'm a mom I'll have the strength to take the graveyard shift when I need to, whether it be at the sewing machine, in the bathroom with a sick child, or in the basement wrapping presents for a birthday.

{circa March 2009}

Thank you, Mom, for all those nights you stayed up later than everyone--what a supreme expression of love.

a love affair

I'm in love. So in love. With my sewing machine. I love it.

Love. it.

I really have no idea why my interest in sewing didn't spark earlier. Like, a-decade-ago earlier. You see, my mom is the master seamstress, the ultimate sewist. And being as objective as I can, I will say that really I haven't known anyone who can sew like my mother. I sewed a little growing up; in fact, I even made a skort for myself when I was probably nine or ten. But that's where it stopped. I think my mentality was something like "Mom can make anything, so why do I need to learn?"

Then once I got married and serious domesticity started setting in, my mentality switched to something like this: "Hold the phone! If I can't sew, how will my daughters ever have cute Easter dresses and first-day-of-school dresses?? If I can't sew, I'll never have window treatments!!" Enter the sewing machine on the Christmas list.

Now I can't get enough. I've been making my way through the book Stitch by Stitch: Learning to Sew One Project at a Time, and I think that, despite my late entry to sewing, I'm not a lost cause. (Though I do lament that I waited to pick up sewing until I moved to Oregon, 1,280 miles away from my mother and her patient tutelage.)

Since Christmas, I've made napkins with mitered corners.

I've made a knitting needle case. (I'm looking forward to filling it more, and yes, I do have a second size-7 straight needle, and some size-10 circulars are hiding in one of the pockets.)

I've made a knitting bag.

And it's reversible.

I've made an eye pack, which Josh was eager to model.

I have more projects in the works, and I'm itching like crazy to get to sewing clothes.

Sewing is just the best. Sorry, Mom, for not catching on eons ago, but I'm sure glad to finally be in the loop.

the reigning Charlotte

When my grandma passed away a little over a month ago, my mom gave me a pair of her old shoes (I'm the only one besides Sarah who can fit into them). As she handed them to me she said, "You're the reigning Charlotte now. You should have these."

What a responsibility, to be the reigning Charlotte. Did my own mother know what a mantle she was placing on my shoulders as she named me after her mother? I think she did. I've often reflected throughout my life on what it means to be named after such an incredible and inspired woman, and each time I feel a greater responsibility to live up to her name. While sometimes overwhelming, I think my mother saw in me at birth and continues to see in me now the potential I have to be great, potential that often escapes my understanding.

Grandma was a significant and strong presence throughout my entire childhood, and I've witnessed how she continued to be a mother, even when her children were grown and created families of their own. I will forever be indebted to my grandmother for many reasons, but the greatest of which is that she taught my mom how to be a mother. I want my mother to know that I see in her all of Grandma's finest and most Christlike qualities. Denise Wood is truly, in every way, a daughter of Charlotte Petersen.

As I approach this new chapter of my life and my upcoming marriage, I feel prepared. Through example my mother and grandmother and aunts and cousins have taught me how to be a wife and how to be a mother. They taught me how to love unconditionally and how to live the gospel. They taught me how to allow Christ and his atonement to define me and my life. In making the decision to marry, I've felt the weight and significance of this choice. Marriage is not to be approached lightly, and I recognize its sacredness. I revere marriage and womanhood because of the women in my life. My mother (along with my stalwart father) has taught me everything most important in my life and will continue to do so as I become a wife to Josh and eventually a mother to my own children.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I don't have much to give you this year, but I can be the reigning Charlotte. I fear I'll fall short of the calling, but as a granddaughter to your mother and a daughter to you, I hope and pray that throughout my life I will always live in such a way that brings honor to my name.

I love you.

mom's birthday post

Today is my mom's birthday, and I want to write a fitting tribute but am having a hard time coming up with adequate words to describe how truly incredible she is and how much I love her. I'll try.

She's amazing. Really. She does everything: she's a phenomenal mom and a loving wife, excels in her busy and demanding church calling, takes care of her aging parents, costumes the high school musicals, finds time to talk to me on the phone several times a week, takes Sarah to her dance class, reads John's English papers, irons the clothes, does the laundry, cooks dinner, arranges family home evening, sends care packages, text messages pictures to me, always looks beautiful, and loves me more than I could ever know.

She, along with my dad, have taught me everything most important in my life. My mom knows who she is and why she's here, and she's passed that knowledge down to me. Even though I'm living in Utah, away from home, she still teaches me and advises me on so many things in my life.

I wish I could truly articulate what I feel for her and how much I love her. She's my mother, and she's one of my best friends. I hope that she can see in herself what I see in her, because what I see is love, commitment, faith, beauty, and strength.

Happy birthday, Mom. You're amazing to me.

just amazing

Mom came out last weekend. You can read about it here. It was just amazing, and I'm just so floored by gratitude that she's my mom forever.

best mom ever

I have the number-one-best mother in the entire world. Today is her birthday, and she is absolutely amazing. Every year we go around the table at dinner and say what we like about the birthday person; I called Mom this evening to tell her one of the countless things I love about her.

My mom taught me that it doesn't matter what others think: the only people who need to be okay with what you do are yourself and the Lord. I sometimes feel weird that my social inclinations are minimal, somewhat odd because of my deep-rooted homebody tendencies; but Mom has always reassured me that as long as I'm okay with what I do and the Lord is okay with what I do, then my hermit tendencies are completely acceptable and that I'm loved regardless. I have always felt accepted by my mom (and dad as well)--I've never had to prove anything, and I've never doubted the love my mom and dad have for me.

My mom is one-hundred-percent incredible--she's the most beautiful person I know. I love her more than I could possibly articulate.

Surprise!!

Emily and I orchestrated one of the most stellar birthday present surprises we've ever done. Over five weeks ago we purchased plane tickets for Denver and didn't tell our family, or anyone at home for that matter. We kept it a secret for over a month, practically going insane because we couldn't say anything. It paid off, however, when we arrived at the airport and sent a picture of the departure gate via text/photo message to Mom and Dad.

Mom freaked out, Dad jokingly said we were crazy, we were excitedly laughing in the airport as we waited to board our 9:15 flight. Rachelle picked us up (she was the only one who knew we were coming out), and we pulled up to our house around 11:30 p.m.

It was a marvelous weekend. Most of the pictures from the weekend are on Mom's camera, so check out her blog for a more detailed account of the weekend.

ShamWow, Em and I are good at surprises.

I'm looking forward to . . .

I was texting Mom tonight and was feeling a little melancholy, so she suggested we play the "I'm Looking Forward To" game. Here's what I came up with for this week:

• my plans to go to the temple on Tuesday
• Elder Holland's devotional this week
• finding out the staff organization for our class magazine in my capstone editing class
• my Tolstoy class, in which last class I didn't even think to look at the clock and was thoroughly disappointed when the bell rang
• the pages of my page-a-day Eats, Shoots & Leaves calendar

My week is looking a little better :) Thanks, Mom :)

Anything in particular you're looking forward to?

Mac to the Max

For Christmas, Grandma and Grandpa gave me a Macy's giftcard, and before the break was out, I went out and used it! Macy's isn't usually a place I go to shop, but when you have gift money, go all out!

I wasn't sure what I wanted to get; I didn't have any specific clothes I was looking for but decided that if I found a clothe I liked, I would go for it. On our shopping excursion, I didn't see anything that pulled at my fashion heartstrings, and then I got the idea to check out the makeup. . . .

So Mom and I ventured over to the Mac counter. I hadn't bought new makeup in at least two years, which is a really long time when I think about it. I didn't really have an idea of what I wanted, so I let Mom aka Makeup Guru guide me in my cosmetic quest.

I came out with (drumroll please. . . . )

• 3 eyeshadows: Shroom, Sable, and Sumptuous Olive
• 1 liquid eyeliner (this is my first foray in the realm of liquid liner--I'm liking it): Dress Khaki
• 1 lipgloss: Viva Glam V--is there a better way to rock a look?!

It was a good day, and my makeup has totally been rockin' ever since (thanks in large part to Mom, who did my makeup the day after our shopping day). I am loving Mac to the max!

and I'm back

Thanksgiving was amazing. Emily and I went home on the 22nd and just got back today. I love being able to go home for such extended periods of time. I had a paper to write and a bunch of reading to do and some worksheets. Did I do any of it? . . . Nope. This is what I did instead.

back in Provo

On Thursday, Mom, Dad, Emily, and I all made the trek out to Provo for yet another school year. We drove the truck and the beaten up Toyota (the latter of which has no A/C) and it was kind of a long drive out there . . . .

Dad putting air into the tires before we left.

My breakfast: leftover birthday cake.


Mom filling up the truck in Grand Junction.


All of the stuff at my feet--it was a very full car.


The disgusting Provo traffic that greeted us when we arrived nine hours later.

It was such a fun weekend, and I'm way excited about my new apartment and my new roommates; however, last night was not fun and was way way sad. What's different for me this year is that things aren't that different for just me, if that makes any sense. . . . I'm just going into another school year at BYU: I've said goodbye to my family before, I've lived on my own before, I know what I'm doing. I'm experiencing the least amount of change out of everyone in my family. What was so hard for me was knowing how scared and sad Emily is and how sad and lonely Mom feels, knowing that there's only so much I can do.

Last night was hard for me because I knew the significant change the rest of my family was experience, while I was basically doing the same thing I've been doing for the past two years.

It was hard. It is hard.

It's just so different feeling like nothing is really too different for me this year. That's the only way I can think of to explain it, even though it doesn't make much sense. Mom's and Emily's blogs show a better sense of what they're feeling--everyone is scared and sad because of different things, different unknowns. The only thing I can think of to do is just press forward, knowing there's a plan.

Here's to another school year, the same and different all at the same time.

I'm taking the offensive

John came home from school a few days ago with a nasty cold and then spent the next two days sick at home. Mom and I both woke up this morning with hints of sore throats and runny noses: it's time to take action. I have quite a busy week ahead of me what with my birthday, packing, and going back to school. I don't have time to be sick this week.

I was sneezing a bit last night, and I wasn't sure if it was allergies or what John had, but I didn't want to take any chances, and so I took a vitamin B/C supplement last night before I went to bed, just in case. I woke up this morning, and it looks like a cold is the case. I popped another B/C supplement, and then ran to the store before work to grab tubes of Airborne for Mom and me. (I know that studies have been done that show that Airborne and vitamins don't really do anything and that it's silly to spend your money on such gimmicks, that it's all in your head; however, I am a-okay with Airborne working psychologically for me. I don't care if it's all in my head as long as my cold goes away. So, I continue to be mental and take Airborne.) I've been taking Airborne and my vitamins religiously today, because I do not want to be sick, especially right now.





I'm taking the offensive: this cold will not win. I will win.

Shoutout to a blog

My mom, Denise Wood, finally started her own blog. Check it out. She's pretty much amazing.

thrifty jackpot

Last year, I pretty much mooched off of my roommates for kitchen supplies. I didn't have my own dishes, my own pots and pans, my own baking stuff. Over Christmas and stuff, I did acquire some more of my own kitchen and baking supplies, so at least I felt like I could contribute a little bit, but overall, my kitchen supplies were greatly lacking. I felt that I couldn't go into this year without a solid supply of my own stuff, yet the prospect of acquiring all the kitchen staples I needed was financially overwhelming. So, Mom suggested we go thrifting and find what I need there.

Last night, Mom and I ventured out to a more ghetto part of town to the ARC thriftstore and proceeded to fill our cart with several pieces of kitchen supplies. Here is what I found:

Inventory of what I purchased:

• 2 stainless steel pots
• 1 stainless steel frying pan
• 2 mini muffin pans
• 2 stainless steel square cake pans
• 1 loaf pan
• 1 Whirly Pop
• 4 dinner plates
• 4 salad plates
• 4 glasses
• 1 butter pot
• 4 bowls (they are the pieces wrapped in paper)
• 1 blue polka dot plate for cookies

All this for $48.78. That's right: $48.78. I think my favorite purchases are the stainless steel frying pan, the polka dot plate, and the Whirly Pop. Seriously, I can make awesome popcorn now with my very own Whirly Pop!!

It was a score of a night last night. Not only did I find all that stuff--almost covering me completely for the fall--for so cheap, but I got to shop with just Mom and me, go home and wash all my stuff (it took a couple of hours because I had to let most of the stuff soak so the stickers would come off), and stay up 'til midnight keeping Mom company while she made cinnamon buns for Dad's work. It was a stellar night all around.

My own Whirly Pop for $3.99!! (I can't get over how cool it is.)