What We Have Been Up-To Lately...

Here is just a summary of what the Hutchings have been up-to lately.

Our huge tree out front is dropping its leaves and it is amazing. Our whole yard is just covered in golden leaves, and the tree still has a ton more leaves to shed. Jayna loves playing in the leaves and using her rack.

I think Jayna had an adverse reaction to her last vaccination, because it turned her into a wild girl. She actually did great at her doctors visit, and did not even shed one tear when she got poked with the needle.

Ryan and I did some wonderful planning and ended up having the Activity Day girls over to our house at the same time as the Teachers and Priests. It was a crazy night, but it went well. It made me happy and anxious at the same time to have all those kids running around the house.

I Pronounce this House Clean...

Ever since we moved into our new home the dishwasher has been my demise. The previous owners that foreclosed on the home took all the appliances and then some when they bitterly left the home. So the bank had just put in cheap appliances. We were okay with it knowing that the appliances were new and that we would slowly over the next couple of years upgrade them. The dishwasher however was anything, but a dish washer. It would leave food particles all over the dishes and everything had horrible caked on spots that I could hardly get off scrubbing it. My silverware was looking sad and dingy, and I just felt like the poor washings were taking there toll on all my kitchenware. I now finally lived in a house capable of entertaining lots of people and all my entertaining-ware looked like poo. Not except-able!

Ryan usually dose the dishes and I am very grateful to have a husband that does so, but he does do them his own special way. Mind you I clean dishes like I am hand washing them before I put them in the dishwasher, but Ryan thinks they just go straight in the dishwasher. So needless to say the dishwasher was causing a rift in our division of labor around the house. Ever time I would unload the dishwasher I would find myself stirring to angry at Ryan for not washing them good enough, and further despising the cheap white crank knob of a dishwasher we had. So finally I had had enough, and started my campaign for a new dishwasher. It took a couple lengthy discussions, but I finally convinced the Man that it would be better for everyone if we just solved this problem.

So I went back to my RC Willey man Lance Kingsford (he is the one that got us our refrigerator). If you have never heard our RC Willey story about our fridge you need to. Lets just say we are RC Willey fans for life, and I never thought I would ever say that. Lance found me a great Bosch Dishwasher in our price range and wrote me up a ticket because he was going out of town. We price compared at some other stores, and realized the Bosch one was our best deal. We went back to RC Willey to buy it, and they told us it was a floor model and that we would have to pick it up ourselves. I thought it was weird that Lance had never told me that it was a floor model, and it kinda threw a wrench into our thinking about buying it. We would no longer have the 14 day return or exchange and things like that. We eventually ended up buying it anyway, and later the next week Ryan picked it up and brought it home and installed it. The next day I got a call from Lance who had just go back into town. He said he did not know why they sold it to me like that, and gave me another $100's off my dishwasher. I had not even called or complained about it. I will find any excuse to buy something from Lance. He totally takes care of his customers.

I love my new dishwasher it is so cool, and does a great job at cleaning my dishes. The luster of my silverware is coming back and there are no-more feuds about dirty dishes.

Happy Birthday To You...

Saturday was Ryan's 29th Birthday, so we did the annual boy's night out. We went to the good old nickel arcade where we blew through nickels like no tomorrow and racked up the tickets playing awesome little kid games.



This time Jayna was able to walk around and explore so it was all new to her again. She loved going in the little rides and liked watching all the lights on the machines. She was a good helper at getting the tickets out when we would win, and I think we successfully avoided catching the swine flu from any of the dirty games.

I made my yearly treat bags for the boys so that they could have snacks while playing their video games, which they appreciated. Then when are thumbs and fingers were to sore to push another button we headed over to the Wing Coop to pick up some hot wings. I myself hate wings, but the husband loves them. After waiting for an entire hour for the two yahoo girls behind the counter to finish our order, after they made the fryer explode and boil over I hated wings even more. The boys thought they were worth the wait though.



Back at the house they zoned out watching UFC, while gnawing on bones. Sick, double sick. They each tried one of the really really hot wings and all about died. That was my favorite part. Then they hung out and played ping pong until two in the morning when I finally gave Ryan "the look". It was really fun! Ryan is lucky to have such good and loyal friends. So see everyone again next year same time, same place.

The Worth of a Daughter? Part II

Part I

My mom did a great job at the funeral. There was a viewing in the morning at a funeral home in Bountiful on main street and then a burial in Franklin Idaho. There was no service because my Mom and her Brother could not speak at it and no-one else would. So the night before my mom had me make up memory cards that people could write their memories of Shari on, and we also printed out life histories so people could take and read them at the viewing. I printed out and cut more than 50 of the memory cards, but only four people had memories to write down and they were really weird. Guess that is what happens when you are an mean old cuss.

My Mom has some of the most loyal supportive friends a girl could have. Karen Duke was one of the first people at the funeral, and she is the friend my Mom sent down to the funeral home Halloween night to check on her Mom for her. Cynthia Clegg and her Husband came up from American Fork to support her and let her have a shoulder to cry on. They are both just great and said the nicest things to me about my Mom.

I think my Mom cried at the viewing just because of the neighbors and church people that helped her so much as a youth. They were the people that lived in the houses thats doors she would run down the street pounding on when she was trying to get help to stop her parents knock out drag out fights. One neighbor didn't say much, but what she did say meant a lot to my Mom. The little white haired lady is blind now and got right up in my Mom's face holding it, and said "I know". It was just the acknowledgment that someone remembered how bad things were too, that touched my Mom. The other thing that really got the tears flowing even for me was when my Mom's mia-maide teacher showed up. She did not even know if my Mom was active and my Mom shared with me that she was a really big reason why she stayed so active during her child-hood. I just had to hug this little lady that made such a big impact for my Mom and our family. So next time you think your church calling is not important you can remember that it was a mia-maide teacher that made the difference in my Mom's life changing the course of her future.

Then in the middle of the viewing her brother that she has not seen since she was my age came. Now mind you we have been feed some crazy things about him from my Mom's mom over the years. She has told us he is in mental institutions, running from drug-lords in SLC, you name it.So when he showed up and was a cute little man in a nice suit we were pleasantly surprised. He shacked our hands and said hi, but I could tell he was standoffish and unsure of what to do. So I told him that I remembered him, and he got this shocked look on his face and said "you do?" I told him that as a little girl I remember saying goodbye to him at his dad's funeral. After I said that he just reached out and hugged me. You could tell it really touched him that somebody remembered him. It was sadly obvious too that their mom had successfully isolated them from one-another leaving them all alone to go their separate ways, with no chance of reconciling with each other. We learned that he has been out of a job for awhile and is having a hard time finding employment, that he is living with a couple over in the ward boundaries of our old ward over in Holladay were we lived within a minute from him for three years. Realizing his situation made us even more upset about their mom giving them nothing, because Kenidy could have used the house and the money to finally have a fair shot at life. He too seems like he has done better than where he came from, but possibly has typical problems from being a product of that kind of up-bringing.

My mom asked him why he thinks he was in trouble with their mom and he told the saddest story of why. He said that the only thing he can think of was this story that his mom has guilted and punished him for his whole life:

When he was two years old my Mom and him got the measles and at the same time their dad got sick. So the Mom took both of them up to their aunts house (the cousin who got every-things mom) to stay until they were better. A month or so later when she came to pick them up she called Kenidy to come to her and instead of running to his mom he ran to the aunt and grabbed her leg. His mom has never forgiven him for that and has used that story his whole life to tell him how selfish and ungrateful he is.

My mom herself can remember things she did when she was three that her mother never let her forget. If that is not the saddest story, I do not know what is. I just do not know what these poor kids could have done that was worth abandoning them their whole adult lives, or making them feel miserable about themselves. The fact that their mom too had one last jab to send their way and that someone is willing to carry it out is beyond my comprehension.

I hope that we can get to know Kenidy more and that he can know that he does have family that he can call in times of need. He needs to have a number in his back pocket and it needs to be his sisters. Kenidy left the viewing early. You can tell he is really lost and insecure. He also said that he did not know how to come to the funeral and represent his mother as her son if she never wanted him to be her son in the first place.

After the viewing we made the two hour drive to Franklin to the small old cemetery there. Just about everyone buried there is an ancestor of my Mom's in some way or another. It is a really picture perfect place. The whole town as you drive up on it is flat with farm land and gold colored fields and then to the left of town there is a small thick grove of trees that holds the cemetery in the middle of it. My dad dedicated the grave and a couple people shared odd memories of Shari and then we were done. My Mom mingled awhile and I took pictures of some of the old grave sights for her. We just let Jayna run around the cemetery, and there was another little girl there that she played with too.

Call me weird but since the day I started getting into photography back in high-school my favorite or ideal place I would like to take pictures would be a cemetery. I just think they hold such history and have the most interesting energy in them. I love it. Like I said though I am weird. Ryan hates anything about old people or death.

So everything is done with though, but I think my parents are going to look into contesting the will. In-fact they have not even seen a copy of it yet which is crazy. So If that cousin thinks she is withholding money from two adults that don't need or deserve it she is wrong.

She is withholding it from two poor kids.

One that was a survivor and ran down the street and sought out refuge in others, and one that was a victim and shut himself up in his room writing poems and listening to load music to drown it all out.

The Worth of a Daughter?

I know this is long, but I think it will be worth reading...

What is the worth of a daughter? Does it change if you have disagreements? Does it change if you are not as close to them? Does it change if she lives a different life than you would want her to? As little sweet Jayna sits in my lap as I write this post I can not imagine her worth in my eyes changing over anything. She is my world, she is my gift from heaven, she is my little baby girl. I am sure we will have are moments, and I do not know what the future holds for her or us. I know she will have her agency to choose things for herself in life, but I have and work everyday to grow the kind of love with her that will withstand the trials of this life. Some of that love I feel is just instilled in me. It is just something I posses as a woman, I feel I have that love for my children before they even come here. That is why I do not understand the following.

Lots of you are familiar with the circumstances of my mothers up-bringing. She was a poor child most of her life with two alcoholic parents that divorced early on in her child-hood. She has stories to tell of wearing her aunts bath slippers to school, because they were the only shoes she could get. Stories of having to entertain her drunk father on the front lawn in fear that he would brake the house windows again leaving them cold during the winter. Stories of thinking her middle name growing up was s**t head because she heard the phrase so often. Stories of her mother calling my father during their engagement to tell him that she was a slut and that he didn't know who he was marrying. Stories of her mother disowning her over her choices as a youth to join the church and live a better life. Now my mother has always laughed these stories off, and has told them with great humor, but they are insights into the harsh reality that was her life no matter how they are told.

I myself have probably met my Mom's mom a dozen times or so that I can remember. My memories mostly consist of my brother Craig and I sitting on her living room floor playing with old cigaret lighters. That is until my dad would order us to the car snapping us out of our child-minded daze to realize that our Mom was in a heated argument with her mother, of which my Dad was going to have none of it. So needless to say growing up I always thought I only had one grandma which was my Dad's mother. My Mom would contact her mom every couple of years or so, or if there was a death in the family or big news to share. My mom faithfully would send christmas cards to her and pictures of us kids, but we never would receive anything in return. In-fact the only thing I have ever received from her was fifty dollars for my wedding, which was a shock and quit generous considering. My mother also has one sibling, her brother Kennedy whom she has not seen since she was my age at her fathers funeral. She has asked for his information over the years wither it be for weddings or christmas cards, but her mother would never give her the information she requested. So as years past I think my Mom gave up, got over it, and moved on. There are only so many things you can do or say to someone who wants to be as bitter, mean, and lonely as her mom wanted to be. It is sad to waste a life-time, and misery loves company, but my Mom wanted more than that.

Since my Mom has little contact with her mom I have always asked her about the inevitable. "How will you know if your mom dies?" her answer has always sadly been, "I don't know, I think her neighbor will probably call me." Well this last Friday we found out. Friday night before a Halloween party my Mom received a call from a child-hood girlfriends mother asking her where her mom was. My mom had no idea what she was talking about, and the friends mom had no idea of the history between my Mom and her mother. It was embarrassing for her to relay to she is not really in-contact with her mom, and would not know where she is. The friends mom explained that Shari (my moms mom) had been in the hospital for the last two weeks and had been moved, but that no-one knew to where. My mom called me and I called the hospital that she had been at, but they no longer had record of where they had sent her. A few phone calls later my Mom found out where she was and found out that everyone in the family had known of her failing health and was told by her mom not to call her or her brother. Knowing her mom it was a last guilt trip, to see just how long it would take her rotten kids to find out that she was in the hospital. My mom sent a family friend that lives near the rest home down to see her and give them her information since she is next-of-kin. Her friend reported that her mother was unconscious and that the doctors said she had taken a turn for the worse two days earlier. My Mom then decided that she was not going to hurry out to visit her mom since it had been her wishes not to see her. My mom explained to me that she was at peace with not going, because her last conversation with her mom was a decant one, and was when she called her to tell her that Jayna had been born and that she was a great-grandma. Then a few hours later her cousin Toni called her to let her know that her mom had past away. My mom was also told that her mom left everything to Toni and gave her and her brother each a $1. That's right a dollar.

Now my Mom by no means needs the money, but I do not care who you are or what your relationship is with your mother that is a slap in the face. It was just one last way her mom could tell her she was good for nothing. So as I type this my Mom is up at her childhood house that contains all her memories of life, with her cousin and her cousins lawyer going through pictures and things. Having to ask for permission to copy childhood photos, and being told she cannot even have a cast-iron cooking pan. Whether they are good memories or bad memories they are my mothers. They are the rooms that she hid in when her parents fought. They are pans she learned how to cook with as a little girl. They are the pictures she is in with her father and mother. They are the things that only her and her brother are owed or deserved after having to endure half a life-time of sad and less than perfect memories.

I personally think my Mom should just frame the dollar with a little quote underneath it that reads "I survived having Shari Logan as my mother and all I got was this lousy dollar". But my Mom is not handling it with anger like most of us would feel justified in doing. No, she is up there right now being as sweet as can be, helping as much as she can. Why? Because that is how my mother has learned how to survive all her life. She has survived by turing bad into good and negative into positive. She has survived all that has come her way, by showing charity and love to those around her the best she knows how. The other alternative would have been to live an ugly life of bitterness, hate, and loneliness like her mother did.

So Mom I thank you. I thank you for having the buck stop at you. For knowing and wanting a better life for you and your children. For sacrificing relationships with your family to make a happier life for me and my family.

Your mother may only think you are worth giving a dollar to, but your Heavenly Father thinks you are worth giving the world and eternity to. I love you.

So I ask you, what is the worth of a daughter?