krista

Tales of 4th Grade Softball


Okay. My blogging hiatus is over and I’m back with a winner of a blog entry from WAY back in elementary school. It’s one of the last times I had played softball. I know this because the last mitt I owned would only fit the hand of a fourth grader’s. It’s still at my parents’ with my name written on the side in permanent marker.

This entire entry is written in cursive, in pencil.

March 22, 1991

Today is the last school day of March. Next week is Spring Vacation. I had an easy day at school today. First when we got to school Mrs. Floyd, my fourth grade teacher, did the usual morning stuff. Then we had our final spelling test. There were only a few 100’s in the whole class. Then we played softball for Fabulous Friday. I hit two “groundy” homeruns. Still my team lost. Afterwards it was recess. I spent that drawing a map. When recess was over we went to see a play called, “Hurricane Smith.” It was a good play. Than school was over.

Maren invited Laura and Megan to play. Maren, Megan, and I had a fight. When it was settled I went out to play with Krista, and Rachel. In the game Krista wanted to play that we were enemies. Then she started to truly be unkind. We managed to sort of settle that one over the phone. It was a pretty wild day. I’m glad it’s almost all over. Signing off.

It’s All About Your Roots


What does it say about me that often, the highlights of my life, have to do with spending time with my family? Does that make me a dorky home body? Am I “too cool” for singles school? Are my priorities boring or are they just right?

I vote for just right.

You would too if you were in my family.

This got me to thinking about some of my friends’ families and I realized, a lot of what draws me to friends is their families. (Cool people CLEARLY come from cool families.)

Growing up, I spent tons of time with Krista, Erin and Lacy.
Krista had a sister that taught clogging (in their garage where Krista and I had created a BYU club in the back corner*) and then her brother, Griff, lived with us for a while. He also helped me to bring a huge cooler-full of water balloons to a friends’ luau and fall over laughing behind the bush where we were launching them over the roof.
Erin’s dad, we called the Rabbi, because he was always wearing a fedora. As an adult, I’ve played soccer with Erin and two of her brothers-in-law. Clearly, her sisters have good taste to marry these men.
Lacy’s family practically deserves its own blog entry from the “thumb exercises” we did and wouldn’t let her little brother play with us, to the story of the dog bite, climbing cherry trees, the truck with the brick under the brake pedal, chickens in Idaho, and the rekindled friendship with Clancy.

By my senior year of high school, I realized that just down the street lived a new favorite person. I still can’t believe that I went to school with Lindsey since kindergarten and we didn’t become friends until 12th grade. Oh the memories we could have had. We tried to make up for it, though, by packing our senior year full of adventures, from scaring her mom by using the hide-a-key to come in the back door late at night, to backing up alleys during car chases after her little brother showed us the escape route, a car accident that led to a court appearance, and our sadie hawkins video. Priceless. Oh yeah, and her mom is my friend on facebook, her brother, Ben, played the roll of pretend boyfriend in my singles ward to stop the advances of a “special” boy in the ward, and her littlest brother, G, is a friend of my brother.
Other gems my senior year included all of the “unspeakables” including the small percentage of Smiths I have met. There’s just so many, Karen, but so far, I love ’em all.

When I went to BYU, my Ute family was disappointed. I therefore adopted a new family in the Becksteads and was excessively blessed. Who knew Idaho could raise such an amazing family? Wow. Friends for-ev-ah.

These days, I don’t meet my friends’ families as much since we no longer live with our parents and often live in a different state or even countries. Luckily, I have met some and the story is the same: cool people come from cool families. Monica’s amazing family came to my house to host her moving-to-California party and from eating bratwurst to playing muff, it was a practically perfect night**. I haven’t met all of Meghan‘s family, but her parents are amazing, especially her mom’s crepes, and her Grandma adopted me for a while when she lived in Salt Lake. Lucky me!

The list could go on and on, but then the only people who would keep reading are those that are looking for a mention of themselves. Sorry… you just didn’t make the cut THIS TIME.

As for me, though, I’m probably the coolest person in Utah because of the family that I come from. Seriously, internet, if you were with me, Abe (5yrs) and Jane (3yrs) while we were doing Paula Abdul’s Cardio Dance DVD, you would ABSOLUTELY agree.


*In order to gain entry into our club, you had to name at least TWO former BYU athletes who were currently playing professionally. Isn’t that how YOU would define your admittance into a club created in fourth grade?

**It wasn’t allowed to actually be perfect because of the meaning of the party: Moni was moving away. Sigh.