Thoughts on Being Brave

This morning as we were walking dad to the subway for the last time I had a thought. A thought I wanted to remember to share with you when you get bigger.

Well, since my memory can't be trusted for that long, I want to tell you now:
Many things worth doing take a little extra effort.

I know it may sound like something you've heard before, but let me explain what I mean. Last night I went to a ballet class with my friend Valerie. I haven't taken a ballet class in at least five years. Maybe more.

We'd been talking about taking a class at this place for quite a while now, but things kept getting busy and then dad was working on the nights of the class, so it just hadn't happened yet. So we decided a couple of weeks ago that once dad wasn't working at night anymore, we would go and try it out. Last night was the night.

All day yesterday I kept thinking:
I should be doing something else with my evening, to get ready for the move.
GK is running late. There's no way we'll make it. I should just cancel.
I look silly in my leotard. Maybe we should all just go out to dinner.
etc.
etc.

Probably fifty times or so, I had thoughts full of excuses as to why it wasn't a big deal if I just stayed home.

And each time I thought:
You'll be happy if you go. It's only an hour and a half.
You can pick GK up at the train and he can drop you and Valerie off at the studio.
Just try it. This is your last chance at this one, for real.
etc.
etc.

It may sound like a little thing Van, but when it was done, I was glad I went. I did look a little silly in my leotard. But sometimes as I danced I thought of you. I thought of the things in your life that will bring you the joy that dancing brings me. And then I danced.

I hope you're always brave enough to do what you love. Especially when there are reasons not to.

Blessings

So Vanny, I have to tell you a funny story:

We do a lot of our shopping at Costco here in New York. The truth is, we'll probably always do a lot of our shopping at Costco, as long as there's one nearby. It's kind of a fun place. You love it there, maybe because of the hotdogs, maybe because the people who run the escalators always tell you how beautiful you are. This is all aside from the family loyalty we feel since Mimi has worked there for so long.

Well, when you shop at Costco, things come in really big packages. We're moving from here in less than a week now so we've been resisting purchases of enormous quantities unless we can finish them off here.

We can make it through an enormous amount of cheese or eggs or milk for example. We can even polish off a fair amount of broccoli. But it takes us several months to make it through a Costco-size package of toilet paper.

A couple of weeks ago towards the end of July, we came down to our last roll of toilet paper. I put it on my list and just thought I would grab a couple of rolls at the "regular" grocery store (Steve's C-town). But when I got there, it was expensive! So I didn't buy any. I didn't have an alternate plan, and you can't just live without toilet paper, but I couldn't bring myself to pay those prices!

So we ran out. For a couple of days we used baby wipes (too much information?) torn in half so as not to be too extravagent. And then came Youth Conference.

We believe that "There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated- And when we obtain any blessing from God it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated." -D&C 130:20-21

I also personally believe that when you are trying your best, and working hard, God has a sense of humor and throws in a little something extra that you may need. Like toilet paper.

At the end of Youth Conference, I found myself up to my ears in stuff. Extra pens, fabric, markers, books, papers, folders, wristbands that didn't get used. As I sorted through the piles of junk, I came across the extra supplies from the games. Among them, five or six rolls of unused, unopened toilet paper. Just enough to get us through.

Don't ever let anyone tell you that serving in the Church doesn't pay.

Nervous

I'm sitting among boxes, thinking about packing, thinking about tidying and cleaning and preparing. But I just had to stop to write a little something.

We have finally passed the event that marked the end of the summer, the thing that stood between us and moving: Youth Conference. It was hard work. It was scary and overwhelming and at times felt like more than we could do. But it was a total success.

You handled it like a champ.

So this morning I woke up and knew that it was time to shift our focus onto packing up our little place, your first home, and getting ready to move accross the country. Close to family, close to the mountains and the ocean we love.

There are a million things to do and to plan and to think about. But as you rest, I just wanted to tell you that I love you. Tomorrow, you are finally going in for an MRI on your beautiful, big head. Your head has been growing more quickly than most babies and the doctors are worried. I keep thinking that if they knew you, how curious and friendly and smart and active you are, they'd know you need that big head to make a space for everything going on inside. But they just want to make sure. And I'm grateful they care.

I hope my feelings are confirmed. I can't help but feel a little bit nervous.