The Pilot is Gone

Today I bought a Prius.

When Matthew and I got married, we both had little cars. I was on my second Toyota Corolla and he had a Ford Focus. We quickly paid them off and then luxuriated in the absence of a car payment.
When we decided to send Matthew back to grad school for his MBA, we sold my car to my little brother and lived with his Focus for the next two years.

I thought we could live on just one car after he started his job with Air Products since I was a mom with a brand-new baby and Matthew's work wasn't very far away. At the very least I expected to wait at least a month before purchasing something. We had just moved and I was still adjusting to life as a mom, where was I going to need to go? Nope, I don't need a car, I reasoned, we should wait until Matthew got a few paychecks to see what our finances looked like before jumping into something so expensive. I lasted one whole week.

While we were still in State College and I was super pregnant, I researched and looked at and test drove a bunch of cars. I was thinking something Honda CRV size, but when I let Matthew have a say, he commented that if I expected to have three children in quick succession we would need something bigger - like a Honda Pilot. Ooooh. I had been dreaming of the Pilot, scoping out others when I saw them around town, but didn't think our situation necessitated such luxury (at least in my mind). But if Matthew wanted to buy me a Honda Pilot, who was I to say, "no"?

After a week of living a quiet existence with my month-old Boy Howdy, taking countless walks around our neighborhood, I needed to get out of the house. We went to the Honda dealership and bought my Pilot. I loved it. It was the nicest thing I had ever owned and had so much space for all the baby paraphernalia we had recently acquired to accompany this small person. This extra room was especially nice for our trips to visit my parents in Virginia. Or when we had our Chewkie, or went to IKEA, or the hardware store, or to the Christmas Tree farm, or when we had people visiting and all wanted to take one car. I LOVED my Pilot.

But then both kids started school and I began driving around by myself 9 out of 10 trips and I felt so wasteful driving such a big car with just me. I realized that I a small-car person. We recently paid off Matthew's newest acquisition, his Mazda 3, and expected to again luxuriate in not having a car payment until we are able to pay off our house, but Matthew (because I am blaming him) kept dropping hints about selling my car and buying something new.

So while we were on our way home from our semi-annual pilgrimage to the Tillamook Cheese Factory, we talked more seriously about what I would get. I had my heart set on a Volvo, something I've pined for since high school, except this one would actually be a nice new one, but I wasn't expecting its purchase for another 6 or 7 years. So when Matthew reminded me that we still have small children who make messes in cars, I decided my Volvo would need to wait. In that case, I wanted a Prius.

"What?!?" Matthew asked surprised and a little appalled. Prius say Oregon and crunchy and not remotely cool. Why would I want a Prius?

"Because they get great gas mileage and if I'm going to be able to justify selling a perfectly wonderful car, it's going to be because I can triple my gas mileage with a new one," I answered.

After I dropped off the family at home, I drove over to the Toyota dealership and found my Prius. It handled so smoothly, had sporty interior finishes and had a zillion new features my Pilot didn't. But was I really ready to make such a rash decision? I hemmed and hawed and reasoned and calculated for the next day before finally saying yes to the car. And even though signing for it took FOREVER, we just kind of ditched the Pilot to drive home. There was no closure, and it left Matthew and I a little heart-sick.

So here is my opportunity to formally thank my Pilot for everything it has meant to our family over the last, almost, 7 years. Pilot, thank you for being the car that helped me raise my babies. I have never questioned my family's safety while in this car. I have never wanted for extra space because of this car. I have been able to serve and host others with this car. And I have watched my children grow in this car. It has been reliable, comfortable, and completely perfect for our family.

But now it is time for a new adventure. We aren't having three children like we had originally envisioned for our family. We no longer need space for strollers and port-a-cribs. We don't have regular play-dates with friends who need a ride. And in another 9 years when I am ready to buy my dream Volvo, this Prius will make a perfect kid car for Boy Howdy and Chewkie. So thank you Pilot and welcome Prius.

Let's Play Ball

It's times like these that make me fall in love with my husband all over again.

Matthew has been travelling A LOT lately. We have missed having time together as a family. Friday after a long series of absence we went out to dinner and then to Build a Bear to splurge on new stuffies for the kids.

But then on Monday we were given two gifts: Matthew's business trip got cancelled AND we were blessed with a few unexpected days of 70+ weather. With the sunshine and time before dinner Matthew took Doodah outside to play catch and to practice batting. My heart was full with the memory they were making. 

 But then Chewkie joined in the fun and my joy was complete.

Matthew is a great father, and moments like these make me so thankful for my little family.

Church at Home

I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At the beginning of January, my Church altered our Sunday structure to reduce the time spent in the church building from 3 hours to 2. With the extra time we were encouraged to follow a loose curriculum to study the scriptures together as a family at home.

I LOVE "church at home," that's what we call it. I have been pleasantly surprised at the enthusiasm with which my children have embraced our new routine. I'm pretty sure they are at the perfect age for such a transition. I love hearing their sweet testimonies as well as their tender questions. I also love that they are hearing their parents' testimonies on a more regular and consistent basis. I love that they want to make goals for the week and be held accountable for them the following Sunday.

We are most definitely not perfect in our efforts. Chewkie is often getting scolded for bouncing off the walls and Boy Howdy (I'm going to start referring to him as Doodah, his most recent nickname) gets chastened for being upset that the evening is not going the way he had it planned in his head. We have simple lessons that often only include a short discussion maybe a video.

But we are perfect in our consistency. Last week Matthew let Chewkie conduct our "church at home." So this week it was Doodah's turn. This morning, before church, he asked if he could teach part of the lesson. His request was met with an enthusiastic "yes!" In fact I had the perfect part of the lesson for him to teach: How to keep the Sabbath day holy.

He took his job - conducting our meeting, teaching the lesson, and leading a short game - very seriously. I LOVED. EVERY. SINGLE. PART. OF IT. He asked questions about what we should do on Sunday, what we shouldn't do on Sunday, and why we go to church and he made sure everyone participated and got their answers written on the board. Color me so impressed with my sweet son. I may have also kind of loved that Chewkie corrected her brother on his spelling of "church" even while telling Doodah that what he had written was "just fine."

So while we are still early in our implementation of "church at home," and while I have no misconceptions that their enthusiasm won't at some point wane, for now I am so thankful for this new program that allows me to connect with my children and husband in a higher and holier way.

Love Note

I was in my room doing something surely productive with the hour between the kids' bedtime and my own when through the crack of my door this sweet note from my son was slipped. And just to make sure I got it, there was another note on the floor of the hallway leading to his room that said "get your note".

Oh this sweet boy of mine. He must have known I needed some extra love and joy. Matthew's been travelling a lot for work and I haven't always been the nicest solo parent, although this week I thought I had actually done pretty well at remaining calm and loving. I'm pretty positive I have said similar things to my children so hearing it come back is kind of funny - especially since I'm not sure if this note is an indication of my "graetness" as a mom or the depth of my son's love in spite of my obvious shortcomings. Either way I will happily accept any evidence of my sweet Doodah's love.