aunt bethie

When I was a little girl my mother would scold me, often with narrowed eyebrows and hand on hip, "don't you talk to me like that, young lady, I'm your mother!"

I'm a mother now and I can honestly say that don't say that. I instead narrow my eyebrows with a hand on my hip and scold, "don't you talk to me like that, young lady, I'm your Aunt Bethie!".

I didn't carry you, give birth to you, or change your diapers (except that one nasty time).

But, today I can tell exactly what you're feeling and thinking by the tone of your voice, and how seriously you want something by the pitch of your whine, and how hurt you are from accross the house by your type of howl. I'm as plump as a ripe blueberry but can get to your play room upstairs in a few microseconds, when I hear the wrong kind of scream.

I didn't feed you your first meals.

But today I know that you won't eat veggies without ranch dip, you love caramel dip with your apple slices cut super thin with no trace of brown, you love to bake and eat chocolate chip cookies more than anything else, you like plain fries over crinkle cut, and you can eat a entire container of french onion dip by yourself in one sitting (if given the opportunity). The twizzlers are hidden, for the same reason.

I stay up late after the baby is in bed to make your school lunch sandwiches into fun shapes using cookie cutters, because that way you actually eat them.

I didn't dress you as a baby, but today I pick your outfits out and dress you up, adorable dolls that you are, and send you out the door or take you to school in the same paint-stained moo moo I wore when I painted clouds for you. Sometimes I make up my mind to go to the store for something for myself to wear. I usually come home with something for you and Sam instead, and am genuinely more excited about that.

I didn't see your first smile and I don't know what toys you liked the most before you could talk, but today I love to see you happy, and admit to going overboard from time to time. You don't know it, but you'll find me every black friday with arms full of little plastic animals and pink packages. Find me in marshalls every september picking the nicest halloween dress.

Because I'm living through and for you today.

It makes me tear up a little to see you in my wedding dress (and laugh, I admit it - you're so petite!). I won't be called the mother of the bride when that day comes, but I will be crying just as hard as one.

I didn't see you take your first steps, but I have watched you take every first step onto the bus and into the school for pre-school, kindergarten, first grade, second grade - a camera in one hand and a baby in the other I try not to cry when I leave you there.

I wasn't able to swaddle you as a newborn, but today I wrap you in your home-made blankets on the couch, and put your movie in, and smother you with hugs and kisses. You're so used to it it's typical for you to say "aw man, you made me another blanket? ugh!". But it isn't long before I find you wrapped in it on the couch, smiling.

You don't call my baby boy your brother, just baby cousin. But he is every bit the love of your heart that you are his. Helping me prepare the nursery (organizing all of the newborn socks in the very bottom of the hope chest where I couldn't bend over to reach - thank you very much!) you touched my heart by hauling all of your favorite toys into the baby's room and offering to give them to "Baby Sam-ee-yawl". Squeezing yourselves with excitement as we sorted out gifts from the baby showers, and finally sharing in happiness when he was born - you shared in it all. Even the colic screams and over-tired fits in the back seat of the car - like loving, and patient older sisters you try to sing to him and make him laugh - giving me pity when I hadn't slept in weeks, and mother-henning me with directions to give him a bottle and change his diaper.

My heart aches when you cry. If there's one cookie left and my glucose level is probably 25, I still save it for you. I am more excited about your programs than mine. I love to organize and label your school supplies, and put love notes in your lunch, making sure that you have every comfort when you're away from home. I might bark sometimes, but you know you're safe with me. I love you without condition. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you to grow strong and well. I'll continue to hold you tight and cry with you and beg the nurse not to give you shots with you, and call her mean names with you after we've left the doctor's office and head to the store for a toy.

I hope that someday when you're baby is crying and you've had enough, you'll call me. Because chances are I'll be hiding in an apartment down the street with my binoculars in one hand and a cell phone in the other, waiting for you to call for me so I can walk in your door and smooch your cheeks to death and say, "my girl, I love you so much".

I wasn't the one who named you, but, to me, you have the most precious names in the world. You don't call me Mom, because I'm not. But it doesn't matter to me, because being your Aunt Bethie has made us belong to each other in our hearts.

today's highlights. Just another day.

Taylor: Aunt Bethie? Whattareya doin'?

Me: I'm opening up my blog to write down funny stuff you say.

Taylor: (gasps as if she's in trouble) a BWOG?! What's a Bwog?

Me: Allie, go put the hot pad in the microwave for 2 minutes. Press 2,0,0, then the start button.

Allie: Aunt Bethie! That's two HUNDRED minutes!! It'll be too HOT! Now what do I press?!

Me: I like this Benji movies, I watched it when I was a kid with your Daddy and Grandma.

Allie: Oh. So it's an OOOOLD movie.

Allison with her stiff neck, playing hooky.

Taylor: Aunt Bethie, Aunt Bethie guess what!! We got a new alphabet friend in school today!! His name starts with R, he's red, he's a rooster, his name is Reggie rooster.... GUESS WHAT IT IS!!!!

Me: (to Allie, who I picked up from school early because she has a pinched nerve in her neck) How about we practice your new spelling list?

Allie: nooo. I'm sick! My neck hurts.

Me: oh alright.

Allie: Aunt Bethie?

Me: yes, my love?

Allie: I'm going to go upstairs to play. Can I have my candy corn?

Gotta love these moments:

I picked up Taylor from school today with Sam on my hip and Allie on my other hand. It began to downpour after getting Taylor and hurried to our car. As I was putting Sam in his car seat, leaning over Taylor, he threw up all over himself then wiped his face, leaving vomit chunks on his nose. Before I could even get out "oh great" Taylor started gagging underneath me with her eyes watering. Allie was on the other side of the car in the pouring rain, yelling at me to come help her close the umbrella and let her in.

Sam has recently discovered that he can feed the dogs his food. He's been dropping it on the floor for months - but now he actually leans his head over and drops his crackers on the floor for Louie and Oliver. Sometimes I catch him in the act and say his name firmly. He looks directly into my eyes, stretches his arm out over the side of his highchair, and drops a cracker on the floor, as if to say "What? You think I can't do this?".

a few excerpts from random mission letters home.

12/12/2000

Well, No, Mom and Tammy, I haven't killed Fred yet or any of his friends. He has lived here longer than I have and it creates comedy for my trainer and I when he swoops down around my mosquitero at night and we scream. I still haven't learned the spanish word for bat, but Hermana Vasquez knows what I mean when I use the word 'Fred' for tip-toeing underneath where he is hanging to sleep. We just have to remember to leave the door open and window vents at some point during the night so he can get in and out. They fly so quick I can harly see them!

Tomorrow we get to go accross the mission to my first zone conference and I'm so excited.

12/13/2000

Mom,

I'm beyond exhausted. I gotta make this quick because the spanish drill sargeant is going to wake me up at 4 tomorrow morning to practice again.

Today our zona all traveled together to the coast for conference. I LOVED the volcanoes and landscapes on the ride. Well, sord of. The bus was SO unbelievably packed there were people sitting on top of people. No joke, it was like a bus of sushi. Wait a minute, sushi? Whatever that word is that means a can of little fishies. That was this bus. Bodies pressed against bodies - so much for the white bible standard of personal space.

We had to get up and leave before 4 this morning to get there on time so we didn't eat anything. I was in the hallway (hall? I can't remember what it's called) in the very center of the bus, crammed between peope and the roads were curvy. I fell on the people sitting near me a few times but managed to make a good conact with a woman who has 3 kids who lives in Sensujute. Anyway, I started to feel really nausious and then started to panic because I couldn't move even an inch to lift bag out from between my legs to throw up in. So I prayed with ll of my mental strength and tried not to focus on the movement of the bus - which was hard. Then a miracle: the bus slowed down and threw a few people off so I squirmed over the chickens in plastic grocery bags (that's live chicken, not dead ones like you get for your grocery bags at home), and sat in an open seat. Sure, I had about 8 big behinds literally in my face, but I didn't care, it was an answer to my prayers. It's just little thinks like that that lets me know that even though Heavenly Father played this big joke on me, he does little thinks to make like easier for me, within reason. Like I really want reeses pieces, bu right now that's not within reason because they haven't fallen from the sky. :( But I fell. Right off the bus when it finally stopped.

The conference was GREAT! I got to play a piano keyboard and it was emotional to see missionaries who are about to leave the mission give their testimonies and they were all complete basket cases. They kept coming up to me and telling me they'd trade places with me, and I said no. I may be the new girl but I also LOVE my mission!

The bus ride home was even more comical. Thankfully we ate at conference so I had strength to be one fo the many people actually hanging onto the open door of the bus, barely standing on the bottomw step, yes, speeding around the curves of El Salvador. My comp and I both held on to the people above us for dear life, and they were busy hanging on to the people ahead of them like a chain - and at the source of this human chain of fear on wheels is one guy wholding on to the metal bar in the bus with one hand.

It makes no sense to me that we're not allowed to ride in pick up trucks but can hang on to a speeding loco bus. Every time the bus slowed down to let someone off we also had to jump off to let that person off and then jump back on as fast as we can. So eventually there was enough freed space to pile back onto the bus and be insde of it.

May 28, 2001

Dear Mom,

Well, I've been with my new compa for about 4 hours now. So far we've gone shopping in the market for food and a toilet seat (because we didn't have one before, thought I'd impress her in her new area), and talked and talked... in ENGLISH!! Man, I must've done something really wrong to live in my first for 6 months and then done something good to end up here...

I really look forward to getting that raincoat, if you haven't sent one yet PLEASE send it! We got soaked again tonight. There's a trail from the door to my bed but I don't even care about mopping it up again because my towel is still sopping wet from being hung out to dry in the rain, anyway. I got wet from the rain, soaked by a bus driving by me on PURPOSE, I think, and my umbrella kept turning upwards on me from the wind so I just dropped it in the gutter, about 2 feet deep at least. My compa made me pick it up.

But it's okay. We found a woman who wanted to hear our message so we squeaked our wet feet into ther home and helped her bring in her wet laundry and hang it up in the main room of her place and then we sat down to talk with her when 2 men came to the door with bibles in their hands. They came in and politely listened to our discussion. I recognized them as preachers downtown. People here have church meetings then go preaching door to door a lot - everybody! Except us. Us crazy Mormonas go preach in other countries instead of our own backyard. Just kidding - sordof. There isn't a night that goes by that I don't pass a parade or church group of people together, singing alabanzas.

Is alabanzas a word in ingles? It's like a hymn, just sung really peppy with loud off-key voices in a neverending chant, with banjos, drums, flutes, trumpets, tamborines, clapping, and whatever else can make noise. Anyway, back to these 2 men who showed up to crash our charla. I recognized them and smiled sweetly, knowing one was this really obese man who was really rude to us at his door, and really had to repeat "don't gloat" over and over in my head to try to keep the spirit with me when the woman told these men that if they weren't in agreement with us that they could leave, because "tonight, I'm already listening to the word of God". Finally! It felt good to be on the other side of the sheet metal wall where rejection always is.

May 30, 2001

Mom, I'm drenched. Have you sent that rain coat?

May 31, 2001

I'm SOAKED! And it's only lunch time. It's a monsoon, I'm sure of it. Have you seen my raincoat yet? Maybe a few dollars for an umbrella that doesn't do this: (picture of an umbrella turned inside up), every time the wind blows. I'm sick of waiting for Julio to get the beach umbrella he promised us and it's raining non-stop now - not just night time. We had to cross the rio montecarmelo", we call it, in the street to get home fore lunch. And the thunder is so loud right now it's shaking the roof. Is there such thing as waterproof flashlights? Because the lights go out every night so it's hard to tell if we're wading home in the street or in someone's yard sometimes. We have so much fun, though! :) I'm so glad it's a mission rule that we can't wear bare feet in our sandals - those wet socks sure protect my feet from all the muck in the water that is as high as my skirt. ;P

So last night Miguel programmed himself to be baptized! That was a pleasant surprise. He and his wife are the ones who's door just appeared to jump out at me one day.

I LOVE being a missionary! I love it here! I love this experience! I love the people here! The members! The investigators! The inactives! The animals! Especially the piggies in the calle - they're so cute (except don't touch a piglet with the mother nearby - I had a near death experience with that). The dirt! The garbage! The funny men with sombreros singing on the corner! my casa! The kids! Everything! I wish I could express in more detail how amazing the days are. I'm learning constantly how to teach better and how to listen carefully to what the Lord says and trying hard to forget what my mind says. Every day is priceless - even when turned down it all gives experience! Sometimes I just feel so happy pushing my way around in the rubble with my nametag on my heart I feel like a bubble of energy and joy and love and excitement and I can feel it just building up in my chest and just want EVERYONE to feel my happiness!!

later that night...

Of course, there are days we drudge around, soaked. But we're NOT going to let that beat us! Sometimes I swear the adversary sets out to get us in a time-organized fashion. Like there's some kind of pre-charla assigned group of devils who work on our contacts shortly before our appointment with them that convince them to leave the house for tortillas or something. And there's this whole other group of adversaries that must be assigned to ruining the charlas in humorous and annoying ways, to ruin the moment: loud farts bursting from the contact while we bare testimony (not me, I manage to get by silently), a drunk spouse returning home during an invite to baptism to invite US to do something inappropriate instead. It seems like 10 million visitors stop by during charlas, parades go by, buses making a ruckus. The neighbors suddenly turn on their stereo and blast ranchero music as soon as we're about to share the first vision. and so we pause but share it anyway only for the lady to say "what?! What?!".

And let me say I'm tired of the roosters and pollos. They outnumber people, for one thing, and they're always strutting around during discussions and wait until I really feel the urge to say or ask something important to let our a big "cockadoodle doo!", while sitting, yes sitting, on the chair next to me. I used to think it was funny.

June 6, 2001

Dear Mom,

I feel really itchy right now. Tonight we were teaching and, no joke, 3 different kinds of spiders crawled around my neck and a cockroach sat on my leg. There are too many bugs here during the rain seasons - worse than summer by far! By the way, I'm DRENCHED. Have you sent the rain coat yet?

I've got a new hobby! I got a recorder and am teaching myself to play it. I like it a lot, and can play I Am a Child of God. My comp could be happier.

Julio gave me a HUGE umbrella! It's really tall so when I don't use it for a cane I slide it behind my back behind my backpack so it makes for amusing incidents being 6 feet wide, running into things.

Ok, so apprently I have maybe 2 kinds of amoebas. I haven't eaten soldis in a week! Pity me! Pity me! Last night I had dreams of the movie Alien, where big slimy monsters sstarted jumping out of my gut. The doctor said the aomebic cysts are the hardest to kill so that'll be another 20 day round of medicine, only 15 for the other, and we'll go from there. I hate diahrrea! I knew the Lord would make me lose weight one way or another! No! I'm not coming home because of this so nobody ask! BUT, start sending me some yummy packaged food so maybe I won't be so tempted to eat it off the street anymore and end up eating parasite poo.

June 28, 2001

Dear Mom,

I'm sitting here on the toilet again. My comp and I left once today to waddle to the local "lab" to do a poo test. Yes, I believe that's the technical name. So we get there and they give us a little pjar that used to be baby food or peanut butter (real sterile) and then lead us to the "bathroom". So, nobody is a fan of urin tests back home but let me tell you about pooing into a tiny jar down here. NO toilet paper. The toilet doesn't really flush. I don't know how they get rid of it. There's roaches scurrying under my feet, billions of ants in the corner around a bug carcas, and there's a giant pila (cement tub) that's empty in front of the toilet so there's barely room to stand up. So I went in first because I had wicked diahrea. So I get going filling the jar that filled up surprisingly quickly so it overflowed to my hand and this caused my already weak stomach to heave so I gagged and gagged and held my skirt up to my mouth to catch the vomit but it wouldn't hold. So I took about 5 good heaves, leaning over the pila in front of me and thought it was good planing on the lab's part to put it there after all. So the water barely trickels in the pila so it takes me 10 minuets to halfway rinse the puke down the drain and rinse off my hand. Meanwhile I have to keep sitting back down with diahrrea again. So I finally get out and my comp as all but messed her pants and goes in the bathroom after me and then walks straight back out. She decided to come back next time for herself so we waddled home then waddled back to the lab hours later for my results and, among the few things of spnaish medical terminogoly I get: mucus, abundant mucus, adundant bacteria, abundant blood (ew), amoeba cysts, and active amoebas. Now, the only way to get amoebas is by eating poo. So while standing with my compa and reading this I freak out and start to gag again. So, I think my life is over and I amost cry but my comp assured me the drugs will help and I'll start them tomorrow. And think of the bright side, with all those prisoners who escaped running around loose we caren't ourside with them as much this week. Does anyone know what amoeba ecoli is? That's also on my poo test report.

one week later...

my comp went to the lab again this morning fer her follow up test and I heard her laughing really hard because my puke from last week was still in the pila! Gross!

June 30, 2001

Mom, Thanks for the rain coat - the Elders who saw me open my package were so enthused with a giant, bright, neon blue jacket they tried it on for kicks.