A Lesson on Gratitude

For some reason, we are always grateful for things after they are gone. Like boyfriends. And chocolate. Parents. School. A job. Money. Food. You get the idea.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder..." they always say.

I usually tend to agree with Maid Marian when she finishes that quote: "...or more forgetful".

But today I realize it's the truth.

I am grateful for wisdom teeth.

When I had wisdom teeth I didn't have a pool of blood in my mouth at all times that I had to decide whether to swallow or spit out...
...onto a rag. This rag was once used to clean dishes. But will probably be sacrificially burned now. My mom will miss it when it's gone.

I'm grateful for rags.

I'm grateful for broth.

I'm grateful for crying. The sleeping drug knocked me out for 90 minutes, but when I woke up all I could do was cry. Honestly, what a blessing. I was nervous I was going to go crazy and say a list of inappropriate things. Like...what boys I wanted to kiss. That kind of material is never safe on video. So crying was good. At least I was coherent. 

I'm grateful for blood clots. If my blood didn't clot I think I'd stand over the sink for 72 hours (or forever) with my mouth open. Be grateful for blood clots.

I'm grateful for gause.

I'm grateful for my cheeks. You know, I have nice cheeks. I can't wait till they come back.

I'm grateful for ice cream. What a grand excuse to get buckets and buckets of FREE ice cream.

I'm grateful for my family and friends. Who knew that getting your wisdom teeth out gave you the right to boss everyone around all day! My laundry got washed and folded, I watched 4 movies, I had couple spoonfuls of a meal, and even had a change of clothes; all sitting on the same couch cushion! Incredible. Maybe someday if I get some chronic illness I'll remember this perk.
Oh, and your friends all come visit you and chat with you for a while to help with the boredom. I don't know any other time I could get my friends to drop everything and just sit by me while I moan and look hideous. Awesome.

Oh, I'm grateful for smiling. I haven't smiled all day. Not because I'm not happy....I just...can't. The lack of endorphins is a little odd.

I'm grateful for wisdom.

See, when I was younger I thought you lost all your wisdom when you got your wisdom teeth out. Somehow all the knowledge you'd gained till then was stored in those 4 teeth and you had to start over when they were removed. But I realized that getting your wisdom teeth out makes you wise. I mean, really--first time in my life I'm grateful for blood clots.

When you say your prayers tonight, remember to be grateful you can swallow and that you aren't recovering from oral surgery. What a blessing.

Peace out,

Shelby Sue

P.S. Feel free to bring over some ice cream if you want. I promise I'll share ;)

Mother May I?

WARNING: This post is not meant for people who can't handle slightly uncomfortable subjects. Meaning....it's about underwear.

I have had several posts about my underwear, so this shouldn't be too much of a shock. Like when my underwear fell out of my pants during my science review session. Or when I discovered a pair of underwear in the middle of the hall of my apartment complex on the first day of school....then discovered it was mine.

How embarrassing.

Well, underwear seems to always sneak up on me in embarrassing ways. "Granny Panties" isn't my fondest nickname, but hey, everyone has one they don't like that much.

I realized the source of all this underwear humiliation stems back to my childhood days when I let my mom purchase all my underwear.

She would come home from Wal-Mart and say "Shelby! I got you a present!" I'd excitedly run to the grocery bag and she would whip out a 6-pack of cheap packaged underwear.

I was always appreciative because clean underwear is refreshing. And what little girl wants to pay for their own underwear? Ya. None.

So I continued to let my mother buy my underwear.

For a long time.

Too long.

Which really means: I bought (with my own money and not from Wal-Mart) my first pair of underwear last semester.

.....Mostly because my nickname was getting to me.....

It was then, I realized the sad truth of my nickname. I also realized how my mother is living in her own little world when it comes to the size of my bottom.

I considered making this picture into one of those newly popular "meme's" entitled: 

What I think my size is./What my mother thinks my size is.

Or this one:

Enlarged to show detail.

I mean, I don't think it was my mom's intention to buy me underwear that was 3X larger than my actual size.....it just didn't occur to her that my bum isn't humongous.

Now I realize why my roommates snickered every time I changed in my room. I could literally duck tape a half of a rubber kickball to each of my cheeks and my underwear still wouldn't hug them quite tight enough.

The realization of the drastic size difference between my underwear just hit me while I was packing today and I had to share with my fellow bunk-mates.

We laughed.

As Tara put it "On a scale from 1-10, 1 being bloomers, and 10 being sexy, Shelby's underwear is below bloomers".

I guess that puts me in the negative. 

Good thing I'm re-vamping my underwear collection this Christmas. 

I think I'm going to have a ceremonial burning of all "Granny Panties" so I can have a clean slate.

Also, I think I might tell my mother I can handle buying my own underwear from now on.

Thank you, thank you. I know it's progress.

But remember, these things do take time. 

Wish me luck.

Rexburg Remembered

18 months.

What a strange allotment of time.

Rexburg, Idaho, has been my home for almost 18 months.

I changed my life here. I completed 45 credits of college, joined Cross Country and Student Alumni Association, gained a testimony of missionary work, made best friends, gave away best friends, developed my painting talent, had some boyfriends here and there, made hard decisions, was manipulated and degraded and taken advantage of, found a better balance of judgement and mercy, ate ice cream at Neilsen's almost every week, danced and sang in the kitchen, listened to my record player in the dark in the living room, had photo shoots and bonfires at the sand dunes, cried at the beauty of a summer valley, got lost in a riverbank, watched the most spectacular firework show west of the Mississippi, hated Satan more every day, loved God more every day, rode a wagon to the grocery store, ran miles and miles through cornfields and dusty roads and Christmas lights, finished my first timed-5K, lost 25 lbs., celebrated two birthdays and my first 4th of July away from home, sang in the shower, cried....a lot--but many happy tears, had slumber parties, fulfilled the hardest calling I've ever had, learned how to be a Christ-like caregiver, hiked a snow-covered mountain, grew up, learned that life isn't just for fun--it's a battle to be won, basked in the company of beautiful children, basked in the company of angels, had a kiss or two, saw my best friend fall in love and get engaged, saw another best friend conquer the world, threw out my back, learned the importance of a mother, sang in Women's choir, recovered from painful shin splits, held hands and looked at the stars, crawled through the ice caves, laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed, went to my first drive-in movie, heard someone pray for the first time, was filled at times with so much of God's love for His children I couldn't speak without His power and truth bursting from me, got called to serve a mission, was tried and tested and refined, and was continuously prepped and molded so I could successfully conquer the next 18 months of my life....

Cleveland,

I can't wait to serve you.

But, I must admit, the short and sweet glimpse of time I had here in Rexburg changed my life. I probably won't come back here. The memories will be like another life. A flash of brilliance from my past forevermore where I became a woman.

The separation is hitting me. Rexburg:  Goodbye, goodbye. I never realized till now the Spirit of Ricks is so real. And so inspiring. Please help me create that in my home. I don't want to lose the light I've gained here. Let me take it to Ohio. Let it grow.

But, for now...

Thank you. For the joy of an adventure. A journey. A blessing.

An 18 months.


I'm going to miss you.

As Sisters In Zion

On Saturday I went and took a picture in front of the Rexburg temple with about 80 other future sister missionaries. That number isn't even close to the actual number of sisters leaving on missions from BYU-Idaho. The latest report is that the student body population is dropping by 3,000 for next semester--almost all of those deferring are new sister missionaries. The same time we gathered here in Rexburg, other sisters gathered to the temples in Salt Lake City, Logan, Provo, and Hawaii to take a picture and celebrate our opportunity to share the gospel. We are living in an incredible time. 

Only two more months till I report!

Hurrah for Israel!

SURPRISE!!!

Eleven Years of Love...and More to Come

Oh, Hannah Banana. I remember when I lived in Malaysia and I got an email from my friend Lexi that said:  "I can't wait for you to move back to Utah so you can meet my friend Hannah! She has red hair!".
How was I supposed to know that was you? That "Hannah with red hair" was going to be my best friend and change my life forever?

We met when we were nine. Both of us small, plump, obnoxious 4th graders, and far too creative for our own good. We promised to be best friends right then and there.

We came up with grand plans about our future together. "When we get to college, we can be roommates and do whatever we want! We can eat pancakes all day and watch TV!"

What a idea! Ha.

I remember that first April Fools together I tricked you into believing I was moving back to Malaysia and leaving you. Though I was being sneaky and mean, you're face fell and I could see the fear and saddness in your eyes. You said to me "Don't worry Shelby. We don't have to live in the same place to be best friends. I will email you."

Then, of course, I shot those sweet words down with the truthful reply: "You don't have email." Ha.

Well, when you found out it was all a joke we laughed and laughed together; but I've always remembered the love that shone through you for me when you thought I was going to leave you.

I remember we tested in the A.L.L. class just so you wouldn't have to move to Freedom Elementary School. So you could stay with me...

We lived through the awkward next couple of years trying to fit in and find ourselves. We relied on each other. We made music videos to Bohemian Rhapsody, dreamed of creating our own restaurant: The BB&D, held cooking classes, had dirt bomb wars, creeped to boys' houses in our class and dropped of secret notes and tumbleweeds.

Junior High was rough. Isn't it for everyone? But we stuck through it together. We even loved each when we only wore basketball shorts and sweatshirts and had greasy hair. You liked me even though I wore Mountain Ridge wood coins as earrings and I liked you even though your eyeliner went around your entire eye like a raccoon and your life-long dream was to be a cat-lady. Good times :)

9th grade you became obsessed with the 80's. Probably one of my favorite years; going to D.I. every weekend, being the queens of the stake dances, falling in love, and growing up.

We became extremely close that year. I saved all the comic strip notes you drew me. They are in my closet. I've saved almost everything you've given me, actually. You have you own filing folder: "Stuff from Hannah".

I have an email folder named "Hannah" too. I found this gem today looking at our old email chains:

"I can definitely see us being those ornery old ladies who go play bingo on saturday nights. We'll probably be friends for forever, unfortunately. I don't know if I can get rid of you. Haha. Just kidding. We can bring our husbands and go do old people stuff all the time. Like play golf, and what not."




You wrote this to me when we graduated from Junior High.

Once again, we were faced with the prospect of being separated. This time though, it wasn't an April Fools joke, it was for real. I went off to Lone Peak High School, you left me to American Fork High School. We were both scared. But we knew that we could be best friends even if we went to different schools:

"Promise you won't forget about me over at Lone Peak?" you asked.

"I promise. We will always be best friends Hannah. Going to different schools isn't going to change that."

And it didn't.

That first year of high school was hard for us. We were both lonely. Both a little confused. Both a little heartsick. But, as always, we had each other.

What a crazy time of life?! We had a group of friends at two high schools, planned an activity every weekend, went on double dates, did each others hair for school dances, had our winter video game marathons, went to DISNEYLAND together, and made our first "List of the Agenda".

We fought more often than normal in High School. We were changing. We were different. It was hard sometimes. But I'd open my door at night to a baggie of M&M's and a sweet note from you. Or I'd slave away to make you some homemade rolls to apologize. We would predict each others futures while we looked at the stars on your roof and watched as Dumbledore's Illuminator kept taking the light out of the corner street lamp. Or drink lemonade on the porch in our homemade sundresses.

I held you when your heart broke.

I cried when I sang the line in "I'm Trying To Be Like Jesus" in church that said I'm learning to serve my friends because I thought of you. And how much I loved you and was trying to serve you. Even when it was hard.

I transferred schools Junior year to be a closer to you.

You contemplated having a fake identity and joining the Lone Peak Marching band with me :)

We talked almost every day.

When we came to college our 4th grade dream came true. ROOMMATES! I think I learned to love you more in the first semester of school than I ever had before.

Then I moved to Florida and you to Kansas. And Hannah, those 4 months were the longest we'd been away from each other in 11 years. Wow.

We grew and learned and transformed. Another semester with you in college and once again you took care of me with your love, sweetness, service, dedication to God and family, meals(I'd probably have starved without them), laughter, and friendship.

You have been there for me through IT ALL. Every hardship and weakness. You know me better than anyone. Truly.

And I love you. Truly.


Two months ago I came into your room and hugged you from behind and kissed your hair and just stayed their for a moment to chat. Lately, I've treasured every moment I'm with you.



"Shelby, will you be my maid of honor?" you asked.

Tears filled my eyes and fell onto your head as I responded "Of course".



You are soon to be Hannah Hartshorn. And I will have to give you away to your new best friend.



It's a little sad in a way. And I cry all the time when I think of it. But, they aren't tears of sadness. They are tears of blissful, wonderful, joyful, happiness. I cry when I run pass the temple and think how you are getting sealed their to the love of your life. I cry when I watch your engagment photo slide show at FHE. I'm so full of emotion I have to leave. I cry when I see you and Nathan watching "It's a Wonderful Life" in our living room. I cry when you send me a picture of your wedding dress on you. It's one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. I cry when I wrap your wedding gift or when I make scandalous invitations for your Bachelorette party.

I cry when I tell people I am going to be able to sit in the Celestial Room with you and watch you create your own eternal family.

Words cannot describe the joy.

You did it, Hannah.

You made it to the temple with the man you love.

And even though I am giving you up to something greater, I know those first words of comfort you gave me when we were nine are still true.

We will always be best friends.

Forever.

Even if life takes us in different directions and we sometimes don't see each other for years. I know we will talk and write and laugh and love, like always. Our paths will always cross. Our kids can play together and we can go play golf with our husbands and play bingo as old fat ladies, just like you envisioned.

"We don't have to be in the same place to be best friends."



And we can be best friends forever.




For Eternity, in fact.

I love you, Hannah.

Feeling Festive