Welcome Home

A week ago tomorrow my older sis, Nicole, and I sat at the airport, awaiting the midnight hour to see our little sis, Lacey, for the first time in 18 months. Mom and Rick had flown out the week prior to pick her up as she completed her LDS mission in the Philippines. I was awe-struck, just as much as I was when other brothers and a sister returned from their missions.

As I watched her walk toward me, I knew she was the same Lacey I had known for nearly 23 years, with some notable differences. Her skin that was once as fair as the Utah snow that welcomed her was now tanned and golden from a humid sun. Her much thinner figure was the result of months of eating rice, fish, vegetables and lots of tropical fruit every day (all with only her hands, of course). Her shoes she had worn so bare from all the walking and climbing through rain forest pathways of rocks and mud that they provided her no more protection whatsoever. Her leg bore a scar from the burn of the primitive motorbike, when she and her companion were offered a ride home from a Filipino member. Her hands want to sign, whether in ASL or the equivalent Filipino sign language. Her mannerisms reflected that of a native, at times answering your question with only a raise or two of the eyebrows.

The most noticeable difference, however, was when she began to speak. She spoke with such an accent and in such fragmented English, only using one word here and there, that I found myself slowing down and trying to speak very clearly, as I would with any other foreigner. I couldnt' understand her and she couldn't understand me. You would never know she was raised in the United States. Even today, 6 days later, though her English is improving each passing hour, she still gets frustrated because she can't quite conjure up the English term she is looking for and she thinks everyone is talking too fast here for her to understand--so out pops the word or phrase in Ilonggo. This tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed girl I'm sure was a stark contrast to the Filipino people, but she was every bit as much a part of them.

She shone. Her smile radiated and validated the complete happiness and peace she felt in serving the Lord through a mission. What a gift to be given! Not only was she changed, but she changed countless lives through her sweet conviction of our Savior Jesus Christ. To me she is absolutely beautiful -- not only that first night seeing her, but even now as she starts to get on with her life. Her shoes she has replaced, but that light around her remains. I hope it always will. Welcome home, Lacey. Well done.

Anticipating September

Though it sounds so far away right now, we just got tickets to this and I'm so excited! We don't go until September, but that will give baby time to grow and hopefully learn to take a bottle. Zion's Bank customers got a pre-purchase date, so I think tickets are still available (not even sure they are on sale yet) but if you are interested, clickety here.

And the tie-breaker is. . . . .

See the following video to find out!


I am guilty AND I am a bad mother. This child will never forgive me. As I lay on the table, found out I was having a boy, my heart sank. I knew all the kids would be disappointed and I felt like I had somehow let them down. The wells of tears I was fortunately able to keep from spilling over. Sadness yes, followed by an intense feeling of guilt engulfed me. I was 99% sure I was having a girl. I started finding names, had bedding picked out and was getting ready to give away my bins of boys clothes, since this is our 5th and final.

You see, the XY chromosome is not a strong one in Todd's family. He is the only boy, with 5 sisters; his dad is the only boy with 6 sisters(he had a brother that died when still a newborn); his grandpa was the only boy with a few sisters of his own(though he did have a brother with 2 sons; one died young and the other was disabled, unable to have children). SO, the pressure was on when we got married to carry on the family name. Since the gender is determined by the man, I knew it was all up to Todd. So, everyone was elated when we had our first. Great! Pressure off. Then, when we found out we were having a second, Todd's grandpa nearly threw out his back jumping up from his Lazy-boy, upon finding out--truly. (My opinion? I'm thinking since Grandpa has since moved on, he had something to say about this here boy coming down!) Somehow, someway, we are the exception to the Hillam rule. Number 3 Hillam boy is one his way!

By this time, it has been nearly 8 years since I've dolled up, frilled up, had people gush over, and gone shopping for all those darn cute pink, flowery bows, blankets and clothes. I know, I'm shallow. So yes, I was disappointed and I still feel guilty about it. HOWEVER, since it has sunk in, not only am I feeling better, but also a bit relieved, yes, even excited. To me, there is nothing like my little boys. Sure, they are full of energy, mischievousness, loudness and even the occasional sound of bodily noises, but I'm a sucker for them. They melt me. And their laughter is the sound of heaven itself--nothing fills me with more joy. And besides, only a boy could make good use of an old wrapping paper tube:


I know this little guy chose us as parents and I feel honored to have him coming into our home. We are excited and look forward to meeting you, our little baby boy.