Wheeler Farm with Corbin and Christina

The kiddo and I joined my childhood friend Christina and her son at Wheeler Farm today. I recently reconnected with Christina after 10 years (hard to believe) and it was the first time we had met each other's kiddos.

We fed the ducks,

saw/smelled the animals,

had some made out of balloons,

and even rode on a couple.

It took a little while for the Kiddo to warm up to the idea of getting on the horse, but he ended up loving it.

It was surreal to think about the two of us now as single mom's when the last time we were around each other we were 17 and serving in our Laurel Class Presidency together,

But it was a lot of fun to watch our sons together, knowing that we never imagined this day.

Jars filled!

Boys will be boys...

The kiddo had his first trip to the doctors office for an injury today. He jumped/fell off a chair while with his dad this weekend and hurt his ankle. He wasn't really phased by it, and kept trying to walk on it, but would then realize that it hurt when he put pressure on it. It didn't stop him from trying to limp around though. While I'm not the type to rush to the doctor's office unless it's really an obvious emergency, after talking it through with his dad, we decided that it'd be best to take him into an children's care clinic and get it checked out just to be safe. They took some x-rays and wrapped it up for the time being, but couldn't find anything major (we'll hear back tomorrow with the x-ray results).

The humor to be found here is in the shirt he was wearing:

I'm not sure it'll be easy to keep him off of it for the next few days, although, the upside of it is that he's a little more content to just curl up on my lap and relax, and THAT is a jar filler!

How we turned the day around...

The past few Sundays that I've had the kiddo with me, we haven't been able to make it to church for one reason or another. We've each taken our turns being sick (twice), the kiddo hurt his ankle and I was trying to keep him off it, etc...

Two weeks ago, while we both had the stomach flu, the Primary presidency stopped by to say hello and to ask me if I had given up on the kiddo adjusting to his Sunbeam class. I know my reply sounded like an excuse, but it was the truth and the whole experience left me feeling a little upset.

Today, I planned things perfectly - got the kiddo down for a nap before church, showered, shaved, got all dolled up, got the kiddo in his adorable little suit and tie and headed out the door in perfect time to make it to church, only to find the parking lot empty. I called our home teachers and asked if it was Stake Conference week. They informed me that it had been a Regional Conference - broadcast to our building earlier that morning. Call me a girl, but I cried! It felt like things just couldn't go my way. I couldn't bring myself to head directly home so I drove around for a few minutes trying to decide what to do. I thought about finding another ward to attend, but then realized that since it was a Regional Conference, I'd have to drive quite a ways to have any hope of finding another ward meeting, and it was already after 1 pm by then. I tried calling my mother to have someone to blubber to, but she was in the middle of her own ward. I then called my best Utah friend, who like any great best friend would, let me whine and assured me that my tears weren't totally unjustified. She invited us to come spend time with her family later in the afternoon (which turned out to be a wonderful way to spend our Sunday evening).

After hanging up with her, I decided that I needed to do SOMETHING churchy with the kiddo, especially since we were all dressed for it, so we headed toward Temple Square. Though it was overcast, the grounds were beautiful. The tulips have bloomed and the colors were amazing!

(some of these pictures were taken with my phone so please excuse the quality)

We walked around the North West Visitor Center for a while, looking at the paintings by Harry Anderson (one of my favorite spots), seeing the Book of Mormon display with the giant rotating globe...

...as well as heading to the upper level and seeing the Christus. Grant has started to understand a little bit about what it means to be reverent. While sitting in front of the statue, he folded his arms and whispered with a nod in it's direction, "That's Jesus."

We headed back outside and I took him over to one of my favorite spots on the temple grounds to sit. When I was single and living in downtown SLC, I'd often come to Temple Square with my journal and sit in my tucked away little spot, feel the warm breeze, smell the cool aroma of the flowers, lay back on a little patch of grass and look at the stars, with the temple spires reaching up to them. I remember thinking then of what it would be like to bring my children to that spot. My initial thoughts of that scene were much more calm than reality. Grant wanted to see and touch EVERYTHING. No laying on the grass for us!

He'd walk along the stone ledges, touching the tree branches above him that hung down...

...and smelling as many of the flowers as he could.

I DID manage to get him to sit still for ONE brief moment as I snapped a picture, but I assure you, he was up and running again the moment it was captured.

While it wasn't exactly the day I'd planned to have, the experience turned out to be something I needed. So often I need the reminder that while I can't control some things in life, I can control my reaction and what I make of it. It turned out to be a beautiful day!

A potentially disappointing day turned beautiful = a full jar!

Christus Photo / CC BY-NC 2.0

Prepared for takeoff!

Every morning on the way to daycare, we cross over some railroad tracks that have a fair sized hill leading up to them - the kind that you might possibly get air off of if you were going fast enough. The kiddo pretends that we're an airplane taking off when we go over them so he gets his arms ready to fly (after putting his hands over his mouth and saying, "we're cleared for takeoff... CHHH" like he's talking on a radio). This morning, he had a rice cake in his hands, but didn't want to let it hinder the initiation sequence, so he left it in his mouth as he stretched out his wings and held it for a half a block until we had reached "LIFTOFF". I scrambled to grab my camera phone in time. Excuse the blur.

"I love the name of honor, more than I fear death." - Julius Caesar

I'm rethinking why I decided not to use my real name on this blog. I guess it was for security reasons. I cringe whenever I see someone posting information that would make them easy to stalk, but I'm pretty sure that most people who take a minute to look at this page already know at least my first name. I've wondered if it threw you for a loop when they see "Honski" if you don't know it's a nickname mostly used by my family members. I think I've concluded that if someone didn't already know my name they probably don't care enough to require such level of anonymity. I don't mean to have an invincibility complex, but even if someone knows my last name, I'm pretty much unGoogleable. It'd turn up a bunch of references to scouting events and court cases.

My name is Honor.

I've never met anybody else with the name. I think the most well known Honor I've heard of was the Bond girl named Honor Blackman. I've enjoyed having a unique name. It's a little more simple than some attempts I've seen parents make in hopes that their child's name will stand out. It's a relatively straightforward spelling unless your CanadiUn or EuroUpeUn and then you expect to throw U's in anywhere just for fun. I've wished that I could hear it with fresh ears to know other people's first impression.

I've never felt made fun of for my name. People try to joke about it, but it's never felt condescending. The most common response is probably, "It's an honor to meet you Honor! Hahahaha!"

Followed up by these other popular groan-worthy lines:

"Were you on the honor roll?"

"Do you honor thy father and mother?"

"Are your sisters named Faith, Hope and Charity?"

"You should be a judge, Your Honor."

I laugh. It's not really annoying. People are hearing it for the first time and I can't hold that against them, but my levels of genuine laughter vary. It's an ice breaker really, and I think most everyone I've met has meant it as a compliment. I really do enjoy people who are creative with it and I have had my dorky moments when I laughed to myself at jokes, phrases or quotes I've run into, which include:

The chorus of Peter Cetera's "Glory of Love"

"What is left when honor is lost?" - Publilius Syrus

Song from Disney's Mulan "Bring Honor to us all"

"Ici l'honneur m'oblige, et j'y veux satisfaire.(Here honor binds me, and I wish to satisfy it.)" - Pierre Corneille

"Honor does not have to be defended." - Robert J. Sawyer

There was one missionary that served in my singles ward in California. When he heard my name he said, "Hey, I've got your name on my arm!" as he proceeded to pull up his sleeve and revealed a Return With Honor tattoo. I didn't know if I wanted to laugh or smack him upside the head first.

I know it sounds immature, but when Jessica Alba had a baby girl and named her Honor Marie, I had a moment that I'm sure most of you experienced and got past the first day of kindergarten, when you realized that you weren't the only Katie, John, Elizabeth or Mike in the world. I was thinking, "That's SO not fair! My parents picked it first, and now SHE is going to get the credit for it just because she's famous!" Thankfully, it only lasted a minute, but I'm sure I'll have to relive something similar if I ever meet another Honor. I'm just used to being THE Honor and never having to refer to someone else as such. Does that make me a name snob? In a way it makes me feel very naive. Did you ever think that if you have a more common name, you'd be more well adjusted at an earlier age?

I'm often asked how my parents came up with my name. Honestly, they each claim the credit. When my mother was pregnant with my older sister, she came across it while doing some work in the temple. She says that she suggested it to my dad but he kinda shrugged it off and didn't think much of it so she let it go. Then 5 years later when they were expecting me, he came home and said he'd thought up THE BEST NAME EVER! I can imagine the exact look on my mother's face. He had no recollection that she had suggested it before and to this day denies that she did. By then, my mother was campaigning for the name Claire. For the first 3 days following my birth, I was referred to as Honor, Claire or The Baby. Eventually, my mother relented, but I will forever give the credit to each of them. My younger sister ended up Cambria Claire, which I think is an adorable combination. I think it works better for her than it would have for me.

For being so uniquely named, I sure have accumulated a lager collection of nicknames than my parents might have guessed:

Hon ("On")

Honorski

Honski

Honker, which then became Honky, which then became Cracka

Honor Mitch (soon thereafter shortened to Mitch)

H

Honow (started by my younger sister who couldn't pronounce her R's and carried on by 4 year olds to this day)

Nonner

Ogre (ok THAT one was meant to ridicule, but it was from one of the shortest kids in my graduating class and I chalk it up to his own insecurities since I hit 6' my sophomore year and well.... he didn't)

What are your likes/gripes about your own name and what are some of your nicknames not everyone knows about?

My cool hot date!

Well, where do I start? We decided to go ice skating. He let me drive. We went to the Olympic Oval. I was surprised to find that I still had a little bit of skill left from the last time I went skating. Was still able to feel somewhat graceful, turn around, skate backwards, cross over into turns. Didn't fall down once. I wish I could say the same for him, the poor guy. He didn't seem too embarrassed though. Very confidant and positive. Loved every minute of it. I'm glad he doesn't take himself too seriously. He held my hand most of the time. It was really sweet. Thankfully, he didn't take me down with him every time he fell.

After our feet were DONE with the skates, we grabbed dinner at Panda Express. He fell asleep in the car as I drove him home. It was kinda sweet. I didn't want to wake him so I carried him to his room and gave him a kiss goodnight. Good thing I don't have a room mate anymore or I suppose I'd be owing her ice cream! I'm posting a few pictures below that I snapped with my phone. Enjoy!

(He got mad when I wouldn't stay sitting on the bench and let him take off by himself)

Sore feet, but full jar!

Ice Skate / CC BY-NC 2.0

My little ray of sun on dark days

Despite my being sick and down for the count the entire weekend, we turned up some pretty sweet moments.

We read the book I'll Love You Forever at bedtime on Friday night. You know, the one about the woman who breaks into her son's house when he's all grown up because she insists on singing a lullaby to him? Okay, okay, it's kind of a sweet book (minus that part - it kinda makes me want to say, "Cut the cord lady!"). ANYWAY, it's just about a sweet relationship between a mother and son. Soooo even though I'm usually thinking sarcastic thoughts, I started crying. The kiddo tried to give me a side hug from where he was laying next to me on the bed. When it didn't seem to cheer me up to his satisfaction, he climbed up to sit on my stomach, took my face in his hands and said while wiping my eyes with his thumbs, "It's okay Honey, it's okay."

On Saturday, he was sweet enough to let me lay on the couch and fight my cold while we watched movies and he played on the living room floor. There were several moments when he'd come and lean on one elbow on the couch next to my head while watching the movie. We were watching My Fair Lady (his choice, I swear!) and I started quietly singing along to one of the songs. He casually lifted his hand up and covered my mouth without breaking eye contact with the screen. It's like he'd expected and prepared for it!

In the car this morning, we listened to one of our Brite Music CD's (I cannot say enough about this company - I grew up with them and my child(ren) will/are as well). Kiddo is doing a great job of singing along with most of the songs, but the one that cracks me up the most is #10 (you can preview the exact part here) when he says, "Well lil V.I.P. fends. Time fo one mo song. Bout a MARCH! TEN HUT! DA DA DA DA DA HEW WE GO!" He puts all the energy he can into it. I love it! So committed! I know this isn't as good as a video, but maybe someday soon I'll capture it.

When I picked him up after work today, I walked in on him pointing a finger with a stern look on his face at the new assistant and saying, "Mom said to be good. Understand?" Then he noticed that I had walked in and came over to me, looking WAY up at me, but still with finger wagging and repeated, "Understand?!"

I'm sure someday the roles will be reversed and I'll be wagging my finger up at him.

And with that thought, I'm taking my worn out jar and self to bed - full of happy. Goodnight Friends!