brooke marie.

Last night at 8:29pm, I became an aunt to a beautiful baby girl named Brooke Marie. She was 7 pounds, 6 ounces, and 19 1/2 inches long. We visited her in the hospital, where both her and her mom, my sister-in-law, are doing fine.

I am now officially an aunt, and she's my niece. I also have a nephew on the way, due at the end of August.

It was fun to watch my brother, Jake, with his brand new baby daughter. He's not one to show his emotions that often, and it was the cutest thing to see how much he loved his daughter, and how soft and gentle he was with her. I saw him staring at her while he was holding her, and I think it set in for him. It was adorable.

the mormon miracle pageant.

Last night my family and I packed up the car and headed down south to good ol' Manti, Utah--probably one of the smallest towns that I know of. In Manti, there's an LDS temple, and on the temple grounds in the summer, the church puts on a play about the first LDS prophet, Joseph Smith, and about the book he translated with the help of God, called the Book of Mormon. This play is known as The Mormon Miracle Pageant.

Our friend, Kelsie, came along, too. It was Mom, Dad, Rachel, Kelsie, Sara, and me, stuffed into our car. Yes, stuffed. We got there about an hour before the play started. We had reservations at this local motel/campground (a little motel is on one side of the property, and a strip of grass for tents is on the other side, and there's a small street in the middle) and us girls planned on staying in a tent, even though my dad had reserved 2 motel rooms. We wanted to rough it out! So they all set up the tent as I took pictures, and soon enough, we had a place to come back to to sleep that night. We also played a little bit on the [old] swing set that was there when we were little. Very little.

Before the play started, a couple of missionaries passed us, and Sara yelled, "MISSIONARIES! My brother's in a mission!" One of the missionaries yelled back, "Hey! So am I!" Later, they came up to us and asked if we had any non-member friends. Sara said yes, and gave the missionaries his number.

When we got to our seats at the play, it started to rain. Kelsie mooched my blanket from me. Since the play is performed on the side of the hill, and the grass was slippery from the rain, there were a few cast members who slipped and fell. I counted five. The four of us girls giggled to ourselves when we saw someone fall.

When they play ended, the four of us ran back to our tent. Sara and I, however, also clicked our heels the whole way back, because we're classy. We got ready for bed in the extra motel room, and set off to our tent! Rachel thought it would be funny to eat Fiber One bars, and an extra long burrito before going to bed. We all paid for that. If you know my family, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

In the tent, we had some good laughs. Here are the funniest things we said that I wrote down during our stay in Manti:

"How come whenever someone dies, Rachel's hair goes horribly, horribly wrong?" -Sara

"Did you really just put a booger in my hair?" "It was a dry one!" -Rachel and Sara

"I'm a child at heart... just not at butt." -Rachel

"Look! I'm Queen Latreesa!" "Yeah, because Queen Latreesa balances flashlights on her head." -Rachel and Megan

"Do you guys have Chick-Beef Sandwiches in yet? They have them up in Salt Lake." "Oh, I think we get those in on Sunday." "...There is no Chick-Beef Sandwiches... I made that up!" -Dad and the lady at the McDonald's drive-thru

"I wish your farts smelt like hamburger, and your farts smelt like cheese, and mine smelt like buns, so we could make it smell like a McDonald's sandwich!" -Rachel

When we woke up from sleeping in the tent, we all felt a little damp. It had rained that night, and it soaked in through the bottom of the tent, and got our sleeping bags wet. When we were all awake, I said, "Dude! I'm wet!" Kelsie responded with, "I know! So am I!" Then Rachel sat up from her sleeping bag and showed us her literally drenched shirt, and said, "You guys think you're wet!" It was, quite possibly, the funniest thing I have ever seen. The whole back side of her shirt was soaked with water, and it carried on to most of her front side. When we asked, "Rach, why didn't you go into the motel room?" she responded, "I was thinking about it, but then I totally just fell asleep." When we checked to see if Sara was wet, she found out that she was 100% dry, from head to toe. "Heavenly Father must love me," she said.

Before we left, we stopped and got ice cream on the corner of the motel/campground we stayed at. It's a tradition, and a great one at that, because their ice cream is excellent.

And that concludes my adventures in Manti, Utah.

journal vs. blog

Oh dear, it's been over a month since I've posted here. I created this blog thinking, I don't have enough time to write in my journal. I type faster than I write. I'll post on this blog so I don't have to write in my journal as much. It'll be great! but about a month ago I promised myself that I would try my hardest to write in my personal journal everyday, and I have (give or take a few late nights). I guess that all in all I like writing in my journal more than I like posting blog entries. I can be more open about, well, anything in my journal because I know I'm going to be the only one who reads it for a while. But when I post on my blog, anyone can read it; even people I don't know. There are just things I write in my journal that I would never dream of posting here because they are too personal.

I laugh at myself as I realize that I have just taken the time to justify why writing in my journal is better than blogging, because before I posted, I was in the middle of writing in my journal.

Good reasons why writing in my journal is better than blogging:

• If some mysterious virus enters all the computers in America and deleted everything from off of the Internet, I'll still have my journal.
• Writing in my journal improves my handwriting.
• I can be more open and talk freely about whatever is on my mind while writing in my journal.
• Reading is universal--everyone can do it. But my kids are going to be way too advanced to work "Blogger.com." It's like me trying to work a record player. I never have, and I probably will never know how to.

It's settled. Journal time wins. But, nonetheless, I will still post here, because I like it.

a mother and her children.

I have a friend. He has a blog. He likes to be sad sometimes. I feel like for every sad post he writes, I have to write a happy one, so they will cancel each other out, so that no one in the world will ever know about it. Maybe it works; maybe it doesn't. Either way, I feel like I'm happy enough with myself, my life, and the people around me to keep posting entries that will show my contentment. So, here I post.

On the way home from work today, I was driving down the highway. As I came to a stop at the stop light, I saw some people sitting down in the middle of the sky walk, enjoying the sight of the cars as they sped by on the highway. It wasn't until the light turned green, and I was in the middle of the intersection that I noticed that the people sitting on the sky walk were a mother and her two children, one probably around 4 years old, and one just an infant, in a stroller. As I looked up at them from my car, I could see the mother talking to her older son, probably teaching him something, I assumed.

As I passed them, I thought about what a wonderful mother this lady is, to take her two children somewhere special, where she can spend time with them and take a moment to teach them something new. I'll bet that four-year-old will remember that moment for the rest of his life.

This scene only made me want to do the same for my children. I want to take the time to teach them all the many wonderful things about life. I want to put them first, so they will be raised to the best of my ability. I want to do simple things for them, and spend a little time with them, so they will always know that they are loved. My friend, Celeste, has said to me, "I want to actually get down on my hands and knees and play with my children." The more I think about what she said, the more I decide that I want to do that, too. I want to make memories with my children that they will never forget.

Not only do I want to teach them about life, earth, school subjects, and the simple wonders of everything around them, I also want to teach them about the base of my happiness: the gospel, the church, and Heavenly Father and His love for us. I want to raise them to become strong Latter-Day Saints, and one day, missionaries. I want to watch their lives become blessed by the same thing that blessed mine.

It's funny how many thoughts and decisions come from just seeing people be. I hope, one day, that I can be that mother on the sky walk with my children.

laughs.

If you know me really well (or even just slightly), you know that I laugh. A lot. Maybe too much? But, nonetheless, I try to keep a positive look on life, and I've found that laughing at things really makes a huge difference. There have been times that I was so mad at someone for doing something, and all of the sudden, I'd just burst out in laughs, and so would the other person, making it almost impossible for me to stay mad at them.
It is true that I have given pity laughs at times that they were needed, and maybe I've chuckled a few times to break the silence. But when I truly laugh at things I find really amusing, you can definitely tell. It's kind of like a big boom.
My most unique laugh, though, is my silent laugh. My sisters and I share this, because it sort of originated from us, as far as we know. It's a laugh so ridiculous, it has to be silenced from all mankind!
It all started when we were riding with my parents in the car somewhere. Parents in front; girls in back. We started laughing really hard about something, and my dad told us to be quiet, because the sound of laughing irritates him. (We always used to joke that my dad hates happiness, and that we're all going to turn emo one day because we can't laugh around him.) So, to honor my dad's request, we just kind of unconsciously made up this silent laugh that we use around our dad. I've noticed that the times I laugh the hardest are (unfortunately) the times I'm in the car with my sisters and my parents. So, I seem to use my silent laugh when I laugh at the funniest things. And that, my friends, is how you can tell I'm really enjoying myself.
...It looks like my regular laughing face, but there's no sound coming out.

summer adventures.

Okay, so I really should be writing that paper that's due at 9:00 in the morning tomorrow, but I've just gotta get a few things off my mind first...

First of all, I just wanted to express how incredibly HAPPY I am that the warm and sunny weather is finally here! It's been hiding for quite a while, and now it's bright and cheerful--just the way I like it!

I also wanted to make a list of things I have been DYING to get out and do. In the past few months of my life, it seems that I've either been cooped up in my house with nothing to do, at school with plenty (maybe too much) to do, or at work for hours. Because of this, I haven't had time to do most of what I'd like to do. But, I'll be finished with my finals in two days, and this is worth celebrating! So, I've got the list. I just need to get out there and do it!

• Go to the temple and do baptisms, and just enjoy the beauty it brings outside.
• Drive to the lake in Daybreak, and enjoy the sights.
• Go to an Open Mic Night at Trevortex.
• Attend one of The Continentals' park shows.
• Take a day and dedicate it to driving around and taking pictures of magical things.
• Hike up to Ensign Peak and watch the sunset. (Maybe with a hot date, eh?)
• Go on a photo shoot with Kendall, and be his model.
• Watch a thunderstorm outside, wrapped up in a blanket, just like I used to do when I was little.
• Dance in the rain, and jump in the puddles.
• Hang out with friends on a sky walk.
• Go to a park and swing, and swing, and swing.
• Have a picnic.
• Build a "No Boys Allowed" fort, and watch movies in it with my girl friends.
• Jump on the trampoline at dusk.
• Walk around the Murray Park and enjoy the scenery. (It is my favorite park...)
• Walk around downtown Salt Lake City with a friend or two.
• Have a[nother] sleepover with Sarah and Erica, and discuss gospel topics.
• Hold a Mexican Fiesta cook-off at my house. (Side note: Bring sombreros.)
• Crash a stake dance with Emily and Erica.
• DATE.

This list turned out longer than I had planned... But it's okay! The summer is still young, and I've got adventure gleaming through my eyes! And, I'm off!

love.

As I sit here in my bedroom, I can hear the distinct voices of my high school aged sisters and their high school aged friends, giving each other what they think to be worthy advice from their inexperienced and naive lives.

Rachel, Sara, Katie and Kelsie sit in Sara's bedroom. Katie has just broken it off with her boyfriend, and she is almost in tears. "I love this guy to death! You guys don't even know!" she says. I wonder to myself, Does she really? She claims to have "gone out" with this boy for seven months. Does that define love? Is love based on a set time of dating? If you date someone for so long, is it considered love? Or is love defined by something more powerful?

At this point, Rachel offers to call Katie's boyfriend, Kaden, and ask him where he thinks he's getting at this whole "breaking up with Katie" thing. Kaden tries to calm Katie down by saying cute lines, trying to get her back. To win her back. Anything he can do. She hangs up. He calls again. "Katie, answer it. You need to talk to him," Rachel, Sara and Kelsie give her false hope in something that seems so impossible at this point. She answers. Serious conversations across the line go forth in silence. "I don't want to break because, babe, I love you so much," says Katie. "I don't feel like you can trust me." They talk more. More serious words. Too serious for high schoolers, I think to myself. Too serious for me even, if I were in a relationship. I never liked high school drama.

My oh my, this brings back so many memories. High school... My high school boyfriend... We didn't love each other, but back then, I could've sworn we did! But alas, it was not meant to be. Love was just a word back then. It didn't mean anything. I wasn't sure of it's meaning. I'm still not sure what it means, actually.

It doesn't seem like Katie's changing her mind. Poor Kaden. I wonder what he'll be doing in a month from now. Will he be dating another girl, simply because he needs someone to fill that empty space? Maybe he just wants a make out buddy. I've heard some guys are like that. Maybe he'll still be sulking, trying to win her back. What a great guy he would be if only he would. But I doubt it. It is high school. People are still trying to find themselves at this age.

And there it is. The sound of him giving up on her makes her voice drop a little. "There it is. He broke up with me." Where's the fight, Kaden?! I was rooting for you! I think I'm getting a little too into this whole conversation. Rachel calls to see what he's all about. "Dude, you've gotta cheer up a little. I don't do sad. I can do funny!" I laugh. They call me a creeper and close the door. Their voices are faint now. I can't make them out anymore.

Just then, Chuck gets online and greets me with "Hey beautiful." I smile, really big. I think I like this guy. Oh, what am I saying? Of course I like him. And now it's okay to say it, because he knows I do. I love that feeling. The feeling of knowing you like someone, and knowing they like you back, and being okay with saying it.

I don't love him though. That's one thing I've learned in the past. Love is a strong word. Too strong for where I'm at right now in life. I'm not sure exactly what it feels like yet. I don't know what it makes you say or do. I have no knowledge of it whatsoever. I'm really hesitant to say the word "love" because so much in my life, I've said that word when I didn't mean it. I don't want to do that again. I think I'm afraid of saying the word love for the wrong reasons, but I think I'm also afraid of not saying it when I do actually feel it. I'm afraid of not knowing what it feels like, and denying I ever felt it. Oh, what to do?

If you read my journal, you'd probably give it the title of "Megan's Quest to Find True Love." Really. It feels like, in the past year or so, that's been my whole life's purpose. I laugh at it. It's not like I mean to do it. It just happens. Maybe it'll pay off. But for now, I'm content being single. I know God has a plan for me, and I'm going to trust him as I do what he wants me to do.

I'm sure I'll be in love one day. I mean, this isn't an emo post where I complain about how dull and empty my life is. Oh, when will I find love?! --It's just not like that. I've got high hopes. One day I will love!