2008

It is cold. And snowing. And we are warm and safe inside our home. Is it this weather or the fact that this year will soon be coming to an end that makes me reminisce? I can honestly say that for me, this has been the hardest year of our married life. And I can also honestly say I would not trade it for anything. Because I am a different person than I was 366 days ago. And for that I am grateful. This past year, we experienced a thing or two.

A sweet, baby boy being born five weeks too early.

Seven days spent driving to and from the hospital over and over again to be with him every available moment.

My incredible mom who dropped absolutely everything (and boy was she doing everything) to make our life possible for those seven days.

Our baby Ben coming home.

Receiving the news that our beloved prophet, President Hinckley, had passed away.

Jacob having the feeling he should start applying for jobs a year early.

Linn looking at Jacob like he had lost his mind.

Many job applications sent and many job interviews attended.

Sustaining our new prophet, President Thomas S. Monson.

Jacob defending his prospectus and passing.

The job in Boston being accepted.

A long-awaited family trip to Disneyland.

Jacob traveling to Mexico to work on research and being gone 22 of 43 days in the months of May and June.

Jacob being called to the bishopric for the fourth time in three years.

Getting a phone call that my parents had received their mission call.

Having my mom fly out to spend two days with us (when she only had twenty-one days to be ready before she left on her two-year mission).

Saying goodbye to my mom at the airport. Then calling my dad to say goodbye to him on the phone. Shedding many, many tears.

Linn traveling to Boston to try to find a house to rent.

Leaving Jacob at home to tend four kids, to move into a hotel when the floor started to leak and to get stranded on the side of the road when the transmission on the van died.

Watching as the quest to find a rental house fell apart, over and over again.

Being led to the right house at the last minute. And being so very grateful.

Saying goodbye to our beloved San Diego. Realizing how much we would miss our little apartment and our beach and our temple, and mostly our friends.

Visiting family in Utah.

Jacob and Cam driving across the entire country with our belongings. Getting a flat tire ninety minutes from home and spending seven hours on the side of the road.

Finally being together in Boston and seeing our house for the first time.

Unpacking every possession we own in this world and wondering what to do with all of the empty space. (Still wondering.)

Feeling painfully lonely and wondering how I would ever make it through the day, no less the next few years.

Jacob being called as the Ward Mission leader.

Linn being called as the Relief Society president.

Being overwhelmed with the pain so many have to bear.

Being overwhelmed with the incredible goodness that is in others.

Jacob finding a large mass at the back of his head. And finding out it was benign.

Our pediatrician finding Matt had an “abnormal” heart murmur. And then a pediatric cardiologist finding it to be absolutely “normal.”

Laughing and playing and being together.

Praying and reading and worshipping together.

Celebrating our tenth wedding anniversary.

Celebrating the birth of our Savior, in the quiet, early morning hours of Christmas Day.

Slowly realizing that the pain of this move eases with each day that passes.

Celebrating birthdays and weddings and new babies and adoptions and holidays and friendship and love.

Having a brand new year to start over. And try harder. And do better. And be easier on each other. And ourselves.

And mostly…

Praising our God. For He is great.

Guess who's walking?

Ben took his first step on Christmas Eve, but really started
 walking Sunday night. It is just as exciting the fourth time.

Are you sure you'll catch me if I fall?

A couple of steps have been taken. Steady, steady.

He always leans forward as he gets closer to his goal, but is usually able to maintain his balance.

And before he heads the other direction, he pauses to make sure everyone
 is watching before he begins. Ahem, can I get your full attention please?

And now Mr. Blue Eyes will demonstrate his humble, yet proud look. Now you know he is a perfect
mix between his mother and father. I know, I know, if only Jacob could be a little less prideful.

Boston Children's Museum

We had such a fun day at the Boston Children's Museum. Not only was
the museum so fun and amazing, but the kids absolutely loved the
 train ride into Boston. It was such a happy, fun day.

A whole day with his daddy. Ben was in heaven!

Some favorites from my fabulous new camera

Apparently

Remember the significance of a few day's ago? Well, apparently I thought we were being simple and calm about our big milestone. Apparently, although both Jacob and I agree that PhDs make even a good salary quite tight, he had other things in mind. Apparently, he has been saving for months and months to surprise me with what you see below. Apparently, giving your wife a gift like he did can actually make her speechless. (For those of you who cannot imagine it, I promise it happened.) Apparently, I am capable of taking one hundred pictures in just a few minutes' time.

Apparently, I have the most thoughtful, incredible husband on this earth. Apparently, the next ten years look to be even happier than the first ten. (And no, that doesn't have anything to do with the camera.) Apparently, I am counting my blessings this morning. And apparently, my husband is at the very top of my long, long list.

"First and forever"

"At this focal point of all human history, a point illuminated by a new star in the heavens revealed for just such a purpose, probably no other mortal watched—none but a poor young carpenter, a beautiful virgin mother, and silent stabled animals who had not the power to utter the sacredness they had seen.

Shepherds would soon arrive and later, wise men from the East. Later yet the memory of that night would bring Santa Claus and Frosty and Rudolph—and all would be welcome. But first and forever there was just a little family."

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, "Maybe Christmas Doesn't Come From a Store"

Christmas Eve with family

Happy everything

Ten years

Ten years ago today, our little family began. It is the absolute privilege of this life,

and the next, to be married to Jacob Allen. It has been the happiest ten years of my life.

Happy Anniversary Love!

GRINCH

My griping soul has been chastised. And I deserve every bit of it. While everyone else is singing "Oh, I'm dreaming of a white Christmas," I've been singing, "Oh, I'm dreaming of a way out of this ridiculous state." It doesn't quite have the same lovely ring to it, but if you've heard me sing, you know I can make any song beautiful to the ears. Anyway, before I add lying to my list of wrongs, on to why I am a jerk.

Do you know how many neighbors have brought their snow blowers by to clean our driveway in the last thirty-six hours? Three. That is right. And the last one is just leaving. After insisting that we move both of our cars so he can clean the driveway properly. Linn, Linn, Linn. When will you ever learn? Not only am I embarrassed, but this also means I will be going out in this cold, white weather come tomorrow. Because I don't currently own a large, green stamp that reads "GRINCH" on it. And I happen to know someone who needs it slapped right on her forehead for all to see. Serves her right. Mean, old GRINCH.

A little bit of snow

Fourteen and a half inches. And counting. Church was cancelled. My Christmas talk remains
unprinted and undelivered. Jacob and the kids are ecstatic (about the snow, not the undelivered
talk...I think). I've told the bishop to start looking for a new Relief Society president. As soon
 as I can find an unclaimed plane ticket to California, I'm outta here. It's been lovely.
Thanks for having me, Massachusetts. Now which of my wonderful friends
can I convince to offer a room in their spacious, student housing home?

Tradition

Wall of joy

The beginning of the storm

Today was changed to an early-release day at school, due to the upcoming storm.
The kids came home before lunch and kept a close eye on the outside, until the
flakes started to fall. Then bundling up, they ran outside to experience the
beginning of the storm. And boy, was this just the beginning.

Ramblings of the sick

Did you read my lovely, inspiring post yesterday? Baahaa! Ten minutes after I published that, I was running like a chicken with my head cut off. Off to drive forty-five minutes each way to buy burial clothes for a funeral in two days, off to get Matt to preschool on time, off to get our ink cartridges refilled for envelopes that had to be printed immediately, off to try and find a pianist and chorister for the funeral tomorrow, off to try to arrange food for the family after the funeral, off to get the leftover soup reheated for dinner, off to run Cam to the church for scouts, off to make some returns that were on the way back from the church. Remind me not to wax Christmasy and mushy too early in the morning.

And if that doesn't sound pathetic enough, let me tell you about a Christmas gift I received. The stomach flu. That is what I got last night. Cam's stomach started hurting on the way home from scouts. Not too long after, my stomach decided it didn't want to be left out. I thought maybe we had eaten something that didn't want to stay eaten, but with three options of leftover soup last night (the missionaries had been here the night before, can you tell?), I didn't think that theory would work too well. Cam's stomach flu was confirmed around midnight. No details you'll be glad to hear. Then this morning, I felt better, but not great (about how I feel right now) so I got up to get going. My darling husband insisted I go back to bed and rest. It was a lovely thought, but not one that went along with Annie going to school (and needing a cute little look for her hair), Matt going to preschool, making sure Cam laid on the couch and watched television to his heart's content and keeping Ben from emptying all of the kitchen cupboards (his new favorite trick). Not to mention the Christmas cards that needed to be mailed, the nonworking ink cartridge that needed to be returned and the grocery store that needed to be visited to provide some food for the funeral tomorrow.

But do you know what? That man that I married didn't care. He said he could work from home, tend the kids and run the errands. (Not all three at the same time, but truly impressive nonetheless.) I said no. He insisted. His reasoning was that, in our almost ten years of marriage, he had never stayed home for me to be sick in bed all day. He was wrong (it has happened once before), but oh so sweet. And so I went back to bed (after trying to arrange several more items on the list for the funeral) and slept for two hours. I then got up and ate a few crackers and drank some ginger ale and slept for two more hours. When I woke up, the above list was finished (although Annie's hairdo was unimportant as the school nurse called not long after Annie arrived at school and her stomach proved its sickness in the car on the way home). Seriously, how incredible is my husband? Very, for the record. And although my stomach is still not wanting to be obedient and calm, I have not felt this rested in a very long time. So there you go, my best Christmas gift so far. The stomach flu. Lovely.

And as if this post is not long enough, one more thought. For those of you who are waiting by your mailboxes to receive our Christmas card (and I know that means many of you), they are on the way. But you may not be talking to us after you receive them. Because my heart wanted to write a little something on each one. But my stomach wanted me to sleep for several hours today and be absolutely lazy. My stomach won. But I still love you all. So if you could feel pity for me, rather than anger, I would so appreciate it. Because if I haven't mentioned it, I still love you all. Even if you get a generic, but super cute card from the Allen household. And c'mon, you must feel a little love in your heart, if you read this entire post.

And before someone mentions it, yes I know this post won the most-parenthesis-used-in-only-three-paragraphs award.

Thank you. I'd like to thank the stomach flu for this distinguished award.

The Christmas spirit

I am sitting at my computer writing this post and my heart feels joyful. It is snowing. And not
that wimpy, sad stuff. Huge, beautiful flakes. (Which will never last on this soggy ground, but who
really cares right now?) Two of my children went off to school with a smile on their face. Two of
my children are sleeping. My wonderful husband went off to make sure we wake up each morning
to a warm home. Josh Groban is singing Christmas carols to me. My plans for the day are calm
and quiet. Is this what we call the Christmas spirit? Definitely. Certainly. Absolutely.

Gratefully.

Grateful for family

Quite often, family members go by the same name that you do. But just so you know,
that is not always necessary. Last night we got together with our family. They go by
the names of Zinn, Berry, Laws and Camara. We ate cookies by the dozen,
had our children exchange Christmas gifts in the form of books and laughed.
A lot. We did not realize we had so many family members out here.
But we do. And for that, we will be forever grateful.

A grateful heart

I am sitting here so grateful and I just wanted to share. Some of you might know that I am the Relief Society president in the ward that we live in. That means that I am responsible for the temporal and spiritual welfare of the woman that live in our ward boundaries. This morning, I was looking over a list of the sisters I wanted to contact in the next day or two and trying to decide which ones I needed to contact first. Nothing specific came to mind, so I went about my day, getting as many chores as I could done. Just a few hours ago, I was working on a task and suddenly knew that I need to contact a particular sister on my list and that I needed to do it now. I called her and we talked for a few minutes. She thanked me for calling and I hung up. Nothing spectacular happened, but I was grateful to have talked to her and glad she was doing okay.

Less than three minutes later, the phone rang again and it was a phone number that I did not recognize. I answered it anyway and on the line was a woman sobbing. She introduced herself and said that she was a member of our church and ward, but that she had not been to church in a long time. She then told me that her son had unexpectedly passed away last night in his sleep. (He was older, but definitely not old, around forty or so). She didn't even know what to do or how to do it and she needed help. She did not know who our bishop was, but knew she needed to talk to him. I was able to help her get a hold of the bishop and then talk to her a couple of times after to see what she needed and to arrange some help. I got off the phone, promising her I would call tomorrow. And I just sat there, my heart feeling so heavy. I cannot imagine what it must feel like for a mother to lose her child, no matter how old either one of them might be.

Not long after my last phone call with her, the phone rang again. It was the woman I have felt prompted to call earlier in the day. She wondered if I had received a phone call from the sister in the ward who had lost her son. She said that the two of them had known each other years ago, and that for some reason, in the middle of her crisis, the woman remembered her and found a way to call her. The sister on the phone had given her my number because we had just hung up and she knew I was home and that the woman needed to talk to someone immediately.

That is why I am sitting here with such gratitude in my heart. There is no possible way for me to know that a sister in our ward, someone that I have not been able to contact and that has not been to church in a long time, was going to lose her son last night. But the Lord knew. And He knew exactly when she would need someone. And while the whole thing may seem like something small and coincidental, it was not. Because there is a mother whose heart is breaking right now. And although I cannot take away her incredible pain or suffering, I can at least do what I have been asked to do. Listen to a prompting so that I can be in a position to answer my phone and make her unimaginable burden a little lighter.

There are moments like these that astound me. That our Heavenly Father would care so much for us, that He would allow us the privilege of participating in the service of others. Because I am sure the whole situation would have been taken care of eventually. But to a mother who needed to know that the Lord is aware of her and what she is going through, it needed to happen then. And it did. And my heart feels so grateful.

Friends, fun and Edaville

Last night we went with some friends to a place called Edaville.
A festival of lights slash amusement park. We had a great time!
Hurray for fun friends, freezing weather and endlessly energetic kids.
The crazy rides, hot chocolate and fireworks were not so bad either.
It was such a fun way to enjoy the Christmas season.

How we all felt at the end of the night.

Our darling, happy boy

What in the world could cause this darling baby boy to be so happy?

And to laugh so much?

His mother, of course!

Okay, so maybe everyone at the table was clapping and making him laugh, but who is in the
picture with him? You got it. Documentation my friends. The caption under this picture in
our scrapbook will read, There never was a mother quite as wonderful as she. Thank you,
thank you. And before you ask, yes, I'm available for speaking engagements.

My sweet boy

Goodness, I love this boy. A lot. Just over a week ago, our pediatrician found that Matt had a heart murmur. And apparently they are incredible common in children. But she said it did not have a normal sound to it and she recommended that we see a pediatric cardiologist. And while I know that a week is not long to wait for answers, it seemed long to me. It was a strange week for sure. I honestly knew that everything would be okay in the end (no matter the diagnosis), but I felt extremely uneasy about it. But we just kept praying for our Matt and were able to fast for him on Sunday.

Just a few hours ago, the cardiologist told us he is absolutely fine. Just a minor heart murmur that will go away with time. Absolutely no worries, no activity restrictions, nothing. I feel grateful beyond belief. As with all things, I do not think I realized how worried I was about it all. Tonight, I feel physically and emotionally drained. But oh so thankful. Goodness, I love this boy. A lot.

'Twas the night before Christmas...

Tonight we sat together as a family to read some Christmas stories. The lights of the Christmas tree were shining, there was snow on the ground and hot chocolate was waiting for us in the kitchen. Jacob told each of the kids they could choose one Christmas story. Matt picked the Christmas classic you see to the left. I loved the feeling in our home as Jacob began. And then he got to these words, "When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutters and threw up the sash."

And immediately, from sweet little Annie, "Threw up the sash? Gross!" Nice. I think the Christmas spirit just took itself next door. Apparently we missed the memo where we were supposed to teach our children the definition of a sash. Don't worry though, Jacob jumped in and told them it was a special Christmas Eve dish. Double nice. I think the Christmas spirit just took a permanent vacation from our home. So until we can beg it to come back...

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

How much do I love this picture?

The first snow of the season

You can just feel the excitement can't you?
Even my anti-snow heart was thrilled for them.