Our missionary, Trevor

Well, this lil' fella is coming home from his mission tomorrow:

It makes him happy to be taller than at least one dude in the world

It still feels almost too weird to be true.

When my baby sister surprises me a little

We were talking about Neil Patrick Harris and I asked her if she had ever seen pictures of his adorable kids. She hadn't, so I showed her a bunch. After stalking him on Google for a while, she asked me if he had a significant other, so I showed her a picture of David Burtka and said that they were engaged. And she was like, "Cool." She then noticed a picture of Beyoncé and started talking about her.

I worried that she would react badly to such shocking information, so I'm delighted that she was just so... normal about it. I'm not sure if that's because she's awesome, my family's awesome, or her generation's awesome, but I'm proud of her anyway.

Making a sweater for my new pocketknife

My dad is a Renaissance man. Lately, his thing has been designing and hand-crafting pocketknives. They're really cool, and I've always loved pocketknives, so I told him to make me one. Since I'm his favorite biological daughter.

The coolest thing about the design is that it's really easy to open with one hand. Plus it has a safety lock at the top, so you can't accidentally slice your finger off.

The only problem is that it doesn't have any way to attach it to my key chain...

...so I crocheted an adorable little case. Hooray!

This will probably make you sad

I've been taking a lot of risks lately. I've written about things that are personal to me, things that I don't really talk about with people. I have a fear that no one will understand, or that they simply won't care. But as I've shared these thoughts with others, I've discovered that there are other people out there just like me; people with questions, people with heartache. I'm going to take another huge risk and talk about something that only Jordan, God, and a few assorted doctors know about. The purpose of this post isn't to ask for sympathy. I feel like I need to put my experience out there, so other people won't feel so alone.

In December, I had a miscarriage.

It happened during finals week. Well, probably. I'm still not sure when exactly it happened, which was why it was such a shock--there wasn't any warning. My body acted like the pregnancy was going along as it should. But when we went to the doctor for an ultrasound, he told us the worst possible news. There was no baby. It had somehow stopped growing.

I couldn't believe it. It seemed unreal. How could the baby that we had already named and already loved just be gone? Why would God give us the green light to have a baby and then let it die? Had it ever even been alive, anyway? Was it ever a person, or just a clump of cells that never grew properly?

So instead of sharing the exciting news with our families as we had planned, we were left with nothing. The holiday passed in a daze, and we returned to our empty, lonely apartment, not understanding why life had been so cruel, or how we were supposed to survive the next few weeks. We had to pick up the broken pieces of our hopes and dreams and simply press forward, fervently clinging to the hope that things would be okay, someday.

I don't feel as sad about it as I used to. It's hard to be surrounded by babies and pregnant women in Provo, but I still like babies so it's not so bad. I know I'll get to be a mother someday, whether it's through having my own children or adoption. But I think a small part of me will always miss the baby that I never got to have, and wonder if it was ever really a person, and if I'll ever get to meet him.

The barbecue

When I was eleven, a mountain right by my neighborhood caught fire.

My mom woke me in the middle of the night, told me to get dressed, and said the mountain was on fire. That was enough to jolt me awake.

A fireman had been going door-to-door in our neighborhood, telling everyone that they needed to be prepared to evacuate in case it got any worse. I couldn't imagine the fire being any bigger, but I prepared in my eleven-year old way, throwing my favorite toys and diary together, in case we had to drive away.

While my mom turned on some cartoons to distract me and my brother, my dad was talking with the neighbors. I thought originally that they were coming up with some sort of neighborhood defeat-the-fire plan, but he was really just at a barbecue, watching the fire with our neighbors. Apparently he wasn't struck with the sense of terror that my brother and I were feeling.

Happily, the fire never made it to any houses, we didn't have to evacuate, and everything was okay. The worst thing that happened as a result was the mountain looking even drier and browner than it had before.

Weekend adventures

We visited my family this weekend. My mom complimented me on my beautifully even, well-kept hair.

(And gave me a haircut. Love you, Mom!) We went to my cousin's wedding reception on Friday night. The thing I'll remember most about it was what Alexa said as we ate dessert.

It's hard to be an eight-year-old in a sea of adults.

I also ate more cookies than was strictly necessary.

Family

Today we had a surprise visit from my folks, which means that we chatted and I got candy and I showed Alexa the fish in the Widstoe and we made fun of Zac Efron.

Arms filled with miracles

Have we done that title already? Oh well. It fits my favorite picture from the weekend:

That's my sweet little sister, Alexa, holding Grace (my cousin's daughter). Among other family events, there was a 50th anniversary party for my grandparents on Saturday. As was expected, Grace was the most popular person who attended.

I hope they call me on a mission

Hey cats and kittens,

I've advertised this on facebook already, but if that's not your scene, I'll give you the big news: Trevor is almost 19! He's going on a mission in two weeks! He just got his nametag today!

...And there's a blog for him. That's the news. (http://elderhuffmissionstuff.blogspot.com/)

I want to be the best I can!

Reasons why my sister's baptism was muy bien:

-Lots of our peeps came, and by peeps I mean family.

-Everyone in my immediate family participated in some way, which was really awesome. Mom gave a talk, Jordan and I sang, Trevor, y'know, baptized Alexa, and Dad confirmed her.

-I got to hold cousin Joshie's slightly floppy, completely adorable baby Grace.

-Food.

I love you; my responsibility has found a place

You know what's awesome? Getting married, honeymooning in Cancun, and then spending the holidays with family.

You know what else is awesome? All the wonderful people who helped us get there; my family, Jordan's family, and countless others. Guys, you are seriously amazing, and there's no way we could have survived last semester without your selfless service. I don't think I can thank you enough.

This week, we've been working on organizing our lives, which involves a lot more trips into town than it sounds. Luckily, we've gotten the most boring things taken care of now, and our living room no longer looks like a tornado hit it. So that's nice.

Jordan and I had our first real home-cooked dinner in our apartment this evening. We made coconut chicken and baked potatoes, and threw in some salad for good measure. I'm happy that it turned out well, especially considering our kitchen is roughly the size of a closet, and the oven disturbingly resembles an Easy-Bake Oven.

I look forward to lots of not-burned meals cooked in this oven this semester.