An offer worth waiting for

For the last several months, Yvonne has worked part-time for a local company here in Frederick.

When she got the job, it looked great. In fact, it was exactly what she was looking for: three days a week, 20 hours total, during hours while the kids are in school, at the salary she requested.

Perfect, right?

Hardly.

Without going into details, it’s been awful, save for a co-worker or two. The paychecks were nice, but she dreaded every day of work. And on her off-days, she dreaded the next-days because she’d have to go to work. Jason kept telling her to quit, that we’d work it out, but she felt like she needed to get a better offer first, so she kept looking.

She’s had some good prospects, and she’s applied for a lot of positions. But the sour job market has turned her search into a form of lottery. In several cases she’s gone head-to-head with 65 candidates, or more. Doing the math, even if only a quarter of candidates were qualified, she was one of 16. And if only a quarter of those were highly qualified, she was one of four. Then, Jason told her, it comes down to hair color, first letter of your name, or some other intangible you can’t control.

Finally, however, after months of searching, several interviews, and dozens of applications, a great opportunity came up. Actually, Jason sent her the position by e-mail:

Job Posting: Executive Assistant
Hiring date: Immediate

Executive Assistant position with private local firm that consults and conducts work in various industries, including engineering, construction, agriculture, transportation, and cleanup.

A small, family-owned business, the two-decade-old firm is newly franchised in Maryland. Conducts work locally and in various locations across the U.S. Successful applicant will find a warm, sometimes challenging, but always rewarding family atmosphere.

Position reports directly to senior partner and provides planning, scheduling, bookkeeping, delivery, and administrative activities for entire staff.

Flexible hours. Work from home encouraged.

Generous compensation and benefits package, including paid vacations and health, dental, vision, and life insurance benefits. Retirement plan includes 401(k) and other savings paid by employer. Housing, automobile, and clothing allowances included.

Successful applicant will be equal with senior partner in the operation, participating in near-term decisions and long-term strategies. Hiring decision will be based on candidate’s skills, experience, overall potential happiness, and commitment to the long-term.

Firm is an equal opportunity employer, but for this position will discriminate based on appearance and affection. Harassment is possible and likely.

No resume necessary. Contact the senior partner with questions or to indicate your acceptance.

It was the better offer she’d been waiting for. She jumped at it, walking out of the job that caused so much angst to become a stay-at-home mom. (Why is Jason the “senior partner”? Simple: he’s older.)

She no longer dreads work. Let’s just say it’s the perfect job for her.

Simplot weekend

Each year has a few dates that are untouchable: Christmas, wedding anniversaries, graduation dates, etc.

In our house, the weekend of the third Saturday in February – Simplot Games weekend – is etched in granite every year. The Games are the nation’s premier national high school indoor track and field event, and its been at Idaho State University’s Holt Arena since 1979.

Jason has volunteered on the Games’ media team for the last 13 years – and he’s been the media team director for the last 10. He enjoys being around the high school athletes, working in sports, and doing what he calls “pure” public relations: lots of good news stories with interesting angles; short review cycles (meaning his stuff gets printed); and opportunities to try new things (like blogs, Facebook pages, Twitter, and so on). Plus, he gets to reunite with a wonderful group of people every year.

For the last several years, it has been a family affair for us. We drove to Pocatello together, and all the kids old enough to volunteer went and helped at the Games. Last year Melissa worked with Jason’s team, Colin helped athletes with their gear, and Carson was a results runner.

This year, alas, it’s simply too far to drive, so we created the new “Jason plus one” rule. He’ll go every year, and take one of the kids with him.

This year, for her last year of high school (criminy!), it was Melissa’s turn. She and Jason flew on Wednesday – and with all the snow we’ve had, they were happy they were able to leave without delay. They got there early enough (thanks to Yvonne driving them to the airport at 4:45 a.m.!) to spend the afternoon and evening with Yvonne’s parents and brothers.

Thursday morning Melissa and Jason toured Idaho State as her official campus visit – and Friday Melissa toured the BYU-Idaho campus with her grandma and aunt. She enjoyed the visits to the two schools she wants to attend – she’s been accepted at both, so now all she has to do is choose. (They told her she needs to decide by June, so we’re guessing we’ll have a decision in…June).

The Games were great, as usual. Jason had a great team again this year, including his friends Amanda (her ninth year on the team) and Kyle (his fifth) and three college interns. And Melissa, who was there for her fifth Games. That experience came in handy when she coordinated athlete interviews during finals on Saturday. (To the amazement of the camera team there doing a live webcast, Melissa delivered each of the dozens of athletes – mostly event winners – that the crew wanted to interview. Jason told them this wasn’t her first rodeo.)

The flight home Sunday was long (another 6 a.m. flight), but we enjoyed getting back together as a family that night, with everyone meeting at the airport and grabbing some Potbelly subs for the ride home.

So next year, same weekend, we’ll be there: Jason, Melissa (she’ll be within a short drive from whichever school she chooses), and, uh, well, we’ll figure that one out next year…

Two Levi-isms

Levi has always had an entertaining view of the world. His age (five years old), his personality, his expressions, and his enthusiasm for saying what he’s feeling add up to some interesting insights. We call those Levi-isms. Here are two recent ones:

Levi-ism #1
Levi was looking pretty glum the other day, so Yvonne asked him what was wrong. He said, “I never got to play tee-ball.”

Yvonne assured him that he was going to get to play tee-ball. In fact, we’ve already signed him up and we’re just waiting for spring weather to melt the snow. Levi was relieved.

“You’ll be playing baseball in a month,” Yvonne said.

Levi’s face suddenly got serious as he realized how soon tee-ball will start.

“Oh crud,” he said. “I’ve got to get training!”


Levi-ism #2
At church yesterday, Levi was sitting on Jason’s lap quietly playing a game of dots.

Levi’s concentration on the dots game was broken by the opening chords of a piano solo. Upon hearing the notes, Levi bolted upright, smiled broadly, and said, “Sweet! This is from Wayne ’s World!”

That’s right. After hearing a few chords, he thought the musical number was going to be a rendition of Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. That would have been a sacrament meeting to remember.

Dylan gets a new view of the world

We often joke about Dylan being different. Not different, you know, in a weird way, but different from our other kids in many ways. Dylan even takes pride in it. How is he different?

- he was born in November; all our other boys were born in September

- he was born in Idaho Falls ; everyone else in the family was born in Las Vegas (three of us) or Pocatello (the other three)

- he is blonde (like some of Yvonne’s siblings); the rest of the kids have brown or dark brown hair

- his nose is…noble, like a Roman emperor.

Now he’s added something new to the list: he wears glasses. That’s not necessarily a difference he was looking for (no pun intended), but it is what it is. Frankly, we’ve been surprised it’s taken this long for one of our children to need specs. Yvonne started wearing glasses in sixth grade; Jason since shortly after returning from his mission. The odds are stacked against all the kids.

One day a few weeks ago Dylan nonchalantly handed Yvonne a note from the school nurse that said he should get his eyes checked. When asked about it, Dylan said he could see fine. For days, we tested him (Hey Dylan, how many fingers am I holding up?”; “Can you read that sign?”; “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”).

The eye doctor confirmed it, he needed glasses, at least for school. If you know Dylan, you know he doesn’t show his emotions very often – and he didn’t here. But we could tell he was nervous.

Jason and Yvonne worked with him to find a pair of glasses he would like (not easy in small town Frederick). We finally found a pair online – Ray Bans, with a gray frame and orange stripe down the arms – and ordered them from a local shop.

Colin, whose opinion Dylan greatly values, went with us for the pivotal try-on. Upon putting them on, Colin looked closely from several angles and coolly said, “Dylan, those are you, man.”

Dylan looked in the mirror and broke into a big – and no doubt relieved – smile. They looked good on him. Really good.

On the way home, Dylan had one last nervous moment – what would his siblings say?

Upon walking in the front door, Levi saw Dylan and, in typical Levi fashion, Levi loudly expressed exactly what he was thinking:

“Oh my gosh!” he exclaimed. “You….look...”

We all tensed.

“AWESOME!”

Melissa and Carson agreed. It’s true, he does look awesome. And he can see awesome.

So, here he is:


And here he is again, after Jason told him to show that glasses made him look smart...

Snowmaggedon!

So back on December 19, we laughed as the region freaked out about a little ol' snowstorm. Yvonne and Jason went Christmas shopping, the kids played outside, ha ha ha. "We've lived in Idaho," we said. "It's going to take more snow than that to impress us."

After three storms this week, including a 23-inch, two-day, wind-powered snow storm that ended yesterday...well, consider us impressed.

When Jason heard it was coming mid-week, he jokingly called it Snowmaggedon.

After it was over and blanketed the region in a thick, wet blanket of snow, President Obama called in Snowmaggedon. With the prez stealing his stuff, Jason is prepared to write some talking points for the Administration on health care, the federal budget, and Harry Reid. We'll let you know if they call.



So it was lots of hot chocolate, watching videos, and more than nine hours of shoveling for Carson, Colin, and Jason (the "Three Horsemen of the Snowpocalypse") -- plus five hours for Melissa and four for Dylan. We're ready to get a snowblower.





Now, we didn't buy a snowblower when we got here, despite 150 feet of driveway, because people here told us it doesn't snow much and we wouldn't need it. Those same people are now saying the storms are our fault, because the winters were mild before we got here.

Not funny.

Melissa turns (gulp!) 18

January 24, 1992. A day we'll never forget (not a day that will live in infamy, just a day we'll never forget).

The day started easy enough, with Jason off to UNLV for classes and Yvonne, then seven-and-a-half months pregnant, trying to catch a few more z's before heading to work. Our baby (Mariah if a girl, Tyson if a boy) was due March 3. Life was good.

Jason got home from school just after 2 p.m. to find a note from Yvonne (this is before cell phones, people -- only salespeople and crack dealers had beepers, and Jason was neither): Yvonne's had some serious back pain, so she was heading to the doctor. Yawn.

Shortly after that he got a phone call: Yvonne was at the hospital, in labor. GET HERE NOW!

Jason made it in time. Melissa (let's face it, Mariah just didn't fit her) was born at 4:42 p.m. Six weeks early, five pounds and one-half ounce. We were young, scared about becoming parents and our little girl's health, but excited about the prospect of raising her as ours.

Fast forward 18 years.

As her parents, we're still young (in geologic terms), still scared at times by the choices she faces now and in the years ahead, but excited about the bright girl that she is and the bright future she faces.

While we've had our share of disagreements and frustrations and fights and challenges over the years (that's the parent-child dynamic, right? right?), we've also had more than our share of great memories watching Melissa grow up as a daughter, sister, and young woman.

And while we, as parents, have enjoyed raising her (or doing our best, anyway), it's her relationship with her four brothers that really stands out in our family. They're not her brothers, they're her boys.

We've enjoyed time spent together at backyards and beaches, ballparks and city parks, chapels and mountains, vacations and dinner tables, and many, many other stops throughout our lives together. Great, great memories that have caused the tough times to fade.

Now at 18, there's no denying that her life and ours are about to chart different courses. College applications are in the mail. High school graduation is four months away. Big decisions lurk ahead for her -- exciting, frightening times. Just like 18 years ago, we're a little scared, but she's not a little girl any more. She'll be fine.

Happy birthday, kid.

Levi’s prayers

A regular treat for us is listening to Levi pray with the family. His prayers are plainspoken, unpolished, heartfelt, and true reflections of his perspective on the world as a five year old.

He prays for his parents and his brothers and sister. He prays for our family and friends (if you’re reading this, he’s probably prayed for you at some point). Sometimes he prays for people we don’t know. He prays for hopes and dreams and everyday problems. And while his prayers generally touch our hearts, there are times we have to try not to laugh because his five-year-old perspective puts a humorous twist on things.

Just this week, he offered a prayer that was true Levi:

• After Colin, who has been fighting a cold, asked him to pray for those who aren’t feeling well, Levi prayed for Levi and dad to feel better (they had been sick together). After the prayer, he sighed and said he meant Colin, too.
• For some dear friends who are going through a rough time, Levi asked, “please bless them that they will feel better…and that they’ll have a good Christmas.” His logic: if you have a good Christmas, everything else is ok.
• And before concluding, Levi threw in this gem: “Please bless Melissa that she can shave every day.” 'Nuf said.

We often call him " little man," but in our house he is a giant.