24 hours…

…and I leave this desert behind and go get my man.

I haven’t written much lately because most of my thoughts have been things like I love Jason, I miss Jason, I can’t wait to see Jason, nine days until I leave to get Jason, Jason Jason Jason Jason Jason.

This last month has taken forever to draw itself out. I can’t complain about my life here, my kids are as good as a group of under 12 children can be–translation: they fight and fit and cry and kick, but it’s interspersed with bursts of affection and refreshingly responsible behavior.

Like last night. It was Family Home Evening so I asked Harrison to put together a little lesson on gratitude. Harry is great at this kind of thing, he usually pulls out something fabulous and the younger kids eat it up. Not last night. Last night I was introduced to a full blown pre-teen tantrum.

After FHE I took him to his room and sat him down. There are things little kids don’t understand and can’t understand but once a child hits that 11, 12 age we have an opportunity to pony up and talk straight with them.

So I did.

I came clean and told Harrison straight out that I don’t enjoy Family Home Evening. It’s not fun and it’s not easy to wrangle the kids together and get them to sit still for a quick lesson, then try to organize something fun where someone always ends up crying. It isn’t enjoyable, it’s never easy and I’d much rather turn on Sponge Bob and go read a book.

I’m not trying to torture them.

We have Family Home Evening because the prophet has commanded it, and if my kids learn anything from us we want them to know that we are obedient, like Rebekah obedient. Remember how Abraham’s servant found her at the well and she watered all his animals? Then when he said she needed to come immediately and marry Isaac, she didn’t wait around for a farewell party or an extra week to say goodbye to the mother she’d never see again, that girl packed her case and took off without looking back. (We just read this story a few weeks ago in Hurlbut’s Story of the Bible, my kids keep talking about it.)

We need to be that kind of obedient.

After that Harrison had to come out and sing The Happy Family Song to his brother and sisters before I’d let him have ice cream. Very inspiring stuff.

Tomorrow morning I leave to get Jason. We are taking five days to drive home together. We need that much time so we can stop and make-out on a regular basis. We’re also visiting family in Texas between make-out sessions.

It’s finally over. This big hard year of single-parenting is over. We made it to America without Jason, we traveled to Las Vegas without Jason, I enrolled the kids in school, dance, football, karate, gymnastics, boxing, etc. without Jason. I managed our entire shipment of household goods and did all the unpacking without Jason.


And now I get to move my husband into this house he’s never lived in and try to make some room for him in the closet. I. Am. So. Excited!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



  1. Mary Richards says:

    I had a similar experience with fast Sunday. I kept trying to tell my 9 year old about the benefits and how good it is to do, but all he thought about was how hungry he was until lunchtime. Tears often ensued. Finally I said how I’m still not a complete fan, but it’s a commandment, little dude, and we are going to buck up.

  2. HOORAY! HOORAY!! HOORAY! Now got get that hubby & yours & have a wonderful drive home 😉

  3. FINALLY! Yay for the end of single parenting in the desert!

  4. You are so inspiring. I just found out my husband is being deployed (our first deployment in our marriage) in 3 months for six months +

    I keep thinking how am I going to handle this, and then I think of you and your inspiring stories and how you make it work. Thank you for being truthful in everything and telling it straight. It gives me hope.

    • annie valentine says:

      You are going to be stronger and better than ever before. I firmly believe there are teams if angels specifically tasked with watching over families during deployment. Please email me any time you need a pick me up.