Family Matters... No, really. They matter a LOT.

My family has helped shape me who I am today.

I grew up in a fairly large family, at least compared to the world's standards. There is my Dad, my Mom, and six children. I have two brothers and three sisters. My oldest brother is from my Dad's previous marriage, but he's still my brother, and I don't consider him different than any of my other siblings.

Part of my family that could make it out to our wedding.

I am the second youngest of all these children. Being the second youngest was a good spot for me.  I have the opportunity to be both a younger and older sister. When I was young, I didn't have as many responsibilities as my older siblings, but was still expected to help around the house. I may have had to deal with a lot of hand-me-downs, but I was also lucky that I am the shortest among my family, so many of the hand-me-downs didn't fit and I got to get newer clothes that would fit me better. *Insert evil laugh here.* Just kidding, but really. It wasn't my plan to be so short, but it certainly worked out (occasionally) for my fashion sense's sake. 

Renee, Me, Dad, and Mom visiting the Laie Temple Grounds

My mom is from Utah and my Dad is from Georgia. They met in Colorado, and got married in the Salt Lake Temple. After being in the Army for many years, they had also lived in Germany and North Carolina. Then, after retiring from the Army, my dad found a job as an airline pilot in Kentucky. Soon after moving to Kentucky, I was born. I lived in that home until I had graduated from High School and headed to college.

Kayelee snoozing under the shade of a tree in our backyard.

I love that house in Kentucky. Someday, I hope to have a house with those qualities. Sure, I am probably biased, saying that I was raised in that home. Oh well. It is a wonderful home.

It is a split-level with 3 bedrooms and a basement. Doing the math, you can figure out my siblings and I had to share rooms growing up. I wouldn't trade that for anything. The girls stayed upstairs while my brother had a room downstairs in the basement. By that time, my oldest brother was old enough and living out on his own. I also want my kids to have to share rooms. Now, I not saying it was always peaches and cream sharing a room with one of my sisters, but it forced us to be closer. We created a bond that by sharing rooms and toys, we began to share our hearts. Kids don't need their own "space," their own rooms. More importantly, they need to be close to their siblings.

The backyard on a beautiful summer day, complete with a double rainbow.

The house sits on about an acre and a half. There is ample space between your neighbors, a nice front yard with flowers and a couple of trees, and a big backyard. The backyard had room for our swing set, a trampoline, and many garden boxes.

The grass was cool, green and soft. Not like the itchy sprinkler-watered grass here in Utah. You could sleep on that grass in the shade of a good tree for a while if you wanted to. I loved how we had enough space from our neighbors, and our street was a single street on a hill, away from other busy subdivisions. My mom could have us go outside and play, with her watching us from the kitchen window. She didn't have to be constantly outside watching us for fear of some crazy person roaming around. I mean, really. If some crazy guy wanted to roam around in a neighborhood, they'd have to really go out of their way, as well as pass many other big subdivisions, to make it to our street. It was quiet and peaceful. Oh, how I hope my kids can have that experience in a house and yard like that someday!

At Auntie Laura and Uncle Justin's wedding reception in the backyard.

Kayelee playing with her cousin, Felicity, in the basement

Most importantly, beyond the rooms and the yard, I love that home in Kentucky for the memories I had in it, and for the Spirit that dwelt within it. I am not saying my family is anywhere near perfect. I'm not saying we didn't have hard times or disagreements. I am not saying life was always easy. BUT, my mother and father always tried to have to right focus in our home. They tried to center our lives on Christ and the Gospel. Of course we watched cartoons, played "pretend," and played with all sorts of toys. We didn't have our noses stuck in the Bible all day. But, by teaching by example, and showing us true perspective on what's most important in life, our parents taught us the Gospel, the love of God, and to love God. I don't think I realized this so much while living in that home- but that's the funny thing about growing up. We don't realize all our parents have taught us until we have grown up more, and we realize it even more when we are deciding what to instill in our own children's lives.

My heart aches a little to remember how simple and beautiful life was there. It was based on hard work and good family values. It was Christ-centered. Those things are what matters.

I tend to get lost in the everyday things that I forget and lose sight of how simple life can be... how simple life SHOULD be. Sure everyone will have hard times, but if we have the right focus, life can seem a whole lot simpler, amidst all that life brings. I hope to fill my home with love, good memories, and the Spirit, as I have experienced back in my sweet, ol' Kentucky home. (: