I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas

What a wonderful time of year to have a blizzard! That statement is true…relatively—it’s all in the eye of the beholder. For businesses, last-minute Christmas shoppers, and travelers it was the worst possible time. But for kids with sleighs, and adults with a good book, hot chocolate, and no place to go, it was amazing.

On Wednesday it started snowing. On my way to work, the radio was telling everyone to stay at home—no school, work, shopping, anything. I couldn’t believe how big of pansies people were being, I was still going the speed limit—and if I’m not having anxiety while driving in the snow, you know it’s not that bad. When I arrived to work, the only other person there was my boss, because everyone else had listened to the radio and said they were not coming in. I knew it would be a long day with the holiday volume that our phones were experiencing and me being the only one taking the calls. Only two hours later, about 11:00, I was advised to go home early and have someone pick me up. I called my husband, and he and my father-in-law picked me up. If I had stayed at work any longer, I would not have been able to get my car out of the parking lot. It took twice as long to get home that day, and we were snowed in all of Thursday. Thursday morning when we woke up, and 32 inches of snow later, this is what we saw:



Matthew, Nate’s brother, was scheduled to come home from his mission from Germany on Thursday, but because of the weather, and the shut-down airport, he didn’t arrive until Sunday. On Friday, he did find a flight to Utah, so he had a homecoming from three of his sisters, and hung out there in suit, tie, and name tag until Sunday. Although it wasn’t what we planned, it worked out okay. At least he didn’t have to sleep on a cot in the airport for two nights.



Christmas was wonderful. This was the first time that I spent Christmas away from my family, but it turned out okay. It was a little different not waking up at 5:30 to open presents, or not going to bed at 9:00 on Christmas Eve so that Santa could come earlier. We had the missionaries over for opening presents and breakfast, and then played games until noon when the missionaries left for their next meal engagement. I got some great presents: A sewing machine from my parents, and sewing supplies from Nate’s. Nate got me a picture frame to go in the baby’s room, a pink key chain flashlight, camping pillow, gift certificate to Joanne’s fabric, and the best of all has a little explaining to do:

Ever since we moved here five months ago, a certain thing has bothered me around Nate’s neighborhood that every time we drive past I have to comment. There is one road that is not paved. It has a street name, and many houses, so it’s not just a driveway. All the other roads around it are paved, but this one was for some reason left out. Talk about getting on my nerves. And Nate, having grown up in the same neighborhood his whole life, never noticed. So one of the presents Nate got me for Christmas was to find out why this road wasn’t paved. He took a camera and his little brother and went knocking door-to-door to see if anyone knew why their street wasn’t paved. Probably because it was the Saturday before Christmas, he was only able to get in contact with one person, who said that it was a good question, and also wondered the same thing. You think that if they were living on that street they would know. So hopefully that is a to-be-continued.



I think Nate also had a good Christmas. He got an orange Buck knife for camping, a new sleeping bag, (since his brother has come home to reclaim his), and a new razor. We also got a New Testament for the Family for the upcoming Gospel Doctrine class for the new year, and a cute little onesie and cd of lullabies for our baby girl.

The rest of the day was spent lounging around, relaxing, and enjoying each other’s company. It was extremely difficult having to get up and go to work the next day, but somehow we did it. I hope everyone else had a great Christmas!

A Day in the Life

I wake up at 6:30 am, give or take a few minutes depending on how late we stayed up the night before watching 24. I see Nate off for work at 6:30, usually giving a few minutes, telling him that I love him and to be safe. I always worry that something will happen as he is working on a roof or using a power saw or something of the sort, but every day he comes home in one piece. I get in the shower shortly after, trying not to fall asleep in the relaxing steam, and also attempting not to take all the hot water—though I’m sure I’m not successful in that regard too often. At exactly 7:15 I go downstairs and have a few bowls of cereal and a glass of orange juice. 7:25 I get my snacks ready to go in a plastic grocery sack that will hold me over throughout the day and keep me from getting too sick. My lunch for that day is the leftovers from the night before.

My drive to work takes between 24 and 26 minutes, depending on what car I get stuck behind. Every day I drive past a street named “Fillmore” and every day think, “Hey!” My goal is to arrive earlier than the other temp, Val, working with me, just so that I look like the more dedicated and responsible one, though she is usually there making coffee by the time I walk in the door. I don’t beat myself up over it—I get ahead in other areas.

I work for Regal Entertainment Group generally selling bulk discount movie tickets to large corporations. My job consists of answering incoming calls, telling people the status of their order, getting frustrated with UPS for losing someone’s package, solving misunderstandings, etc. It’s not too bad, though it ingrains in my mind why exactly I am getting a college education.

At 4:59 pm I have my computer almost off, my coat and purse in hand, sitting on the edge of my seat, and staring at the clock on my phone waiting for it to turn to 5:00. Also praying that no one else calls in that last one minute, and has a debilitating question that takes me 30 minutes to answer or 30 minutes to find an answer that calms them down. At the exact moment that the digital numbers increase by one, I turn off my phone, put on my coat, and walk briskly out to my car. Once I get into the hallway just outside the office, a surge of excitement passes through my body for the sole reason that I am finally going home, and I can hardly contain myself. I’m sure I smile all the way down the hall and out the door.

The drive home isn’t too bad. I found an exciting new way that takes minutes off my drive, which is always an invigorating discovery. Once I get home the rest of the night is spent in miscellaneous, spending time with my husband and in-laws. Lately the evenings have been filled with season 5 of “24” and hot chocolate.

It is strange working in a non-LDS environment. This is the first time I have been offered cigarettes or coffee, and although it was never a temptation, it was an interesting experience. Watching these people who are slaves to their coffee and nicotine, and who actually think that their life is normal and that they are happy is a new understanding for me.

Although I have not been very forthcoming in my religion, the people here know what I stand for. The other day the office ordered in Starbucks, and not wanting to be left out, I got hot chocolate. Someone saw me sitting at my desk sipping from a Starbucks mug and immediately had a shocked look on their face, almost in concern, and asked if that was actually coffee I was drinking. Even though everyone else in the office drinks coffee, they would have been disappointed to find that I was, too.

Yesterday a woman sent a funny forward out to everyone in the office which had a swear word in it. I have to admit I laughed a little bit. At the end of the day she came up to me and felt so bad that she had sent the e-mail to me and was hoping I didn’t get offended.

I have never come out and said that I don’t drink coffee or don’t swear. They have just observed in the past few weeks since I’ve been working here and already know the kind of person that I am. So that makes me feel good. Hopefully they remember me and maybe someday I will have made a difference to somebody because of the way I live my life.

Nameless Baby Girl Barker

We are so excited to have a little baby girl in our home! And I continue to get more and more excited as time goes on, the due date gets closer, my stomach grows larger, and our sweet little girl becomes stronger. But this time will pass and soon we will have her in our arms, wondering how she could have carried such a mean punch while in her mother’s belly.

I’m anxious to find out what her personality will be like. Already it seems that she likes things her way. She doesn’t like to be squished. When I buckle up my seat belt, I feel a punch directed where the seat belt is putting pressure on my abdomen. I have held a lap top and a little baby in my arms, and felt some kicks where she was being smashed. Sometimes at night I put a pillow under my stomach while I am sleeping—at least trying to sleep—but she starts kicking away, not letting me rest until I have moved the pillow. I can already envision a fiery little curly red head, beating up the little boys on the playground.

Pregnancy has been an interesting experience. A co-worker of mine said that God made pregnancy so difficult so when the time finally comes for delivery, we would be willing to do whatever it takes to get that baby out. So far it hasn’t been too bad. Between the morning/all-day-sickness, heartburn, not being able to pick anything up off the floor, and the occasional bladder being turned into a trampoline, I am still glad that we made the decision to have a baby.

Here is our side shot at about 20 weeks. I hope you can tell which one is actually pregnant! Lucky for me, my torso is smaller than most, so I started showing earlier, and I will be larger than most women when my due date arrives. Another way of saying it is that I will probably be the first woman to have her baby by explosion. Hopefully that doesn’t interfere with finals!



This is the ultrasound we got at 20 weeks to make sure our baby was growing properly and to see what the sex was. At this appointment, the baby wouldn’t uncross her legs, so we couldn’t see the gender, though we got a cute yawn out of her and counted all her little fingers and toes. After this ultrasound, we thought we were having a boy and went out and bought all boy clothes. Luckily we kept the receipts, so when we went back in to see the ultrasound tech and saw that our baby boy was actually a girl, we were able to return them all.




I have become a pretty avid on-line shopper. I made the realization that you can get pretty much anything cheaper on the web compared to the store prices—that was a great discovery. While looking at baby clothes, I ran across the cutest costume. When I ran across it a second time right after Halloween, and saw that it was 58% off, I just had to get it. Above is Nate modeling it and demonstrating the shark (or tiger?) in action, and then there is the picture of what it should actually look like.

We are very anxious and excited, which is also mixed with some nervousness, but all is well. No name has been approved by both Nate and I, so we are still looking—and disagreeing. Nate says that he has the final say, because he is the one that is giving the baby blessing, though let’s just see what happens if he tries anything tricky…

We Love You, Tilly!

This first blog is dedicated to Tilly, our long lost family member. (Actually, she is living with my parents).

How we met: In one of my psychology classes we had to train rats. Before we could start training them we had to get them up to an optimal weight before restricting food. The rat that I chose, and named Lyle, was growing at an incredible rate—which was good for me. Though until I came in one day and saw eight little babies in her cage, I knew something wasn't quite right. That is also when I realized that “Lyle” was a girl. So I had to switch rats to train, but I still kept a good eye on my first rat. When the babies got big enough to handle, (being too young the mother would eat them if someone else touched them), I immediately started bonding with a little baby that was white and brown. During Mother's Weekend, my mom came in to meet my rat and laid her eyes on Tilly. She won over everyone's heart that saw her, and she was mine the next weekend. When we first brought her home she was only a couple of weeks old and fit comfortably in the palm of my hand. Now she has grown to three or four times the size—though she is still cute.

Her name: We came up with her name after watching CNN.com (since we didn’t have any television stations). Tilly was the trusty companion of commuter Greg Pringle until he got pulled over in January driving down the HOV lanes of U.S. 36 without any other passengers. (Tilly was a dummy). Pringle has already served part of his sentence, which was standing next to the highway with a sign saying "HOV lane is not for dummies." Tilly later was sold on e-bay for over $4,000 dollars! When we got our rat, Tilly (not to be confused with the dummy), this had all just occurred and was so funny to us that it just seemed to “fit”. Now if I can name my child in such an easy manner.

Her first home was a small Tupperware box, which she was very good at Houdini-ing her way out of. One morning I woke up around 5:00a.m. to check on her to find her not in her cage. I immediately ran into our bedroom and woke up Nate, accusing him of taking Tilly when I was in the bathroom and hiding her from me. To say the least he wasn't very happy about the accusation so early in the morning, and I went to work looking for her in the dark by myself. With a flashlight peering into every nook and cranny to no avail, I said a prayer. When Nate got up for school, he helped me look a little, but was obviously not as concerned as I was. A while later, about to cry, I started putting on my shoes and getting ready for school, reluctant to leave our little baby home alone lost somewhere in our spacious apartment. Suddenly, Nate let out a high pitched yelp, jumped around and dropped his coat. With my insecure emotional state at that time, I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, mad that Nate had teased me about finding Tilly. When I realized that he wasn't joking, you can imagine my elation, and also the humor in watching Nate dance around and scream like a little girl. Our little sweetheart lodged herself in the sleeve of Nate's coat! And that was our initiation into the world of Tilly.

When I got pregnant, the smell of her cage made me sick and I couldn't play with her as much because I was so ill, so my little brother Chad took custody of our little darling. The dog, Sarah, doesn’t like her very much—or maybe she likes her too much—but they stay in opposite ends of the house.

The following is a scrapbook of our life together:

Tilly and I shared a common bond with our love for Koolaide. At the beginning of my pregnancy, the only way I could get enough fluids was drinking Koolaide because water made me throw up.



Tilly hated taking baths. Every time we would put her in the sink she would leave little “presents” behind. Though sometimes it was necessary for her to be cleaned. Example: Every day I would take her to school with me to my psychology class to play with all the other rats, and she loved running under the rat I was training. My other rat, Bo, (also a girl) did not like this, and would pee on Tilly’s head. I don’t think she ever realized, or maybe she didn’t care, because she would do it over and over again. And each time she would go home to get a bath.




This past summer Nate and I went to Vail, Colorado for a family vacation. Of course, since Tilly is part of the family, she came with us. We drove half way, and then camped overnight before completing the long journey. This was Tilly’s first camping trip, (and probably her last). She didn’t like it very much, not wanting to get out of her cage, or even out of her little box. I don’t think she liked the smoke.

Rats only live for an average of 20 months, so Tilly is “over the hill”, but still going strong. Compared to humans, a month to a rat is like three years to us. The record lifespan is 7 years 4 months, so we’ll see how Tilly competes. We miss her dearly, though we have a real baby taking her place soon.

We miss you and love you, Tilly. Thanks for the memories!