Thursday, January 30, 2014

Letters to my daughter #1

I have a super awesome daughter who comes to me with questions and insights that make my heart feel a little too large for my body.  I love her honesty.  I love having the chance to explain things I've learned and have her listen to me - really listen.  She talks about how she wants to have children someday and share these things she's learning with them and this bogglesBOGGLESboggles my mind.    My first few years of parenting would have been SO much easier had I looked past next week or beyond my own nose.  So besides being too smart for her own good, she also has a perspective I wish I'd had.  Teaching moments blindside me - catching me off guard and scrambling to remember my own childhood and how my mom navigated that minefield.  So I thought as a bloggity vehicle I'd incorporate a series of posts on lessons I wish I'd known and/or need her to know.  You can join in - chime in, listen in, whatever.  WonderGirl - this is for you.


The world will tell you beauty really comes from a few inches smaller here, a little more skin showing there or spending a pile of money on designer-whatevers.  If you look a certain way that attracts others/blends in, then you are beautiful.

This is what I will tell you:  Your body is a temple.  A wonderful, amazing but temporary temple.  Never take for granted how amazing the human body is and how fortunate you are to have one that works so well.  It is an amazing vehicle to navigate this mortal existence in, and in the driver's seat is YOU.  Not this appearance that others see, but your soul, the daughter of our Heavenly Father who was ecstatic to come to earth, put this body on and learn all that you could.  When your trip is complete and you return to your heavenly home, you get to take that pile of information, lessons and wisdom that you've gained.  That's the whole reason why you are here.

The world will tell you that your beauty is here, on earth, and that it exists on your outside.  I want you to know what true beauty looks like.

She risked life and limb to save others and never gave up, even when she was told she had no worth, beaten and had no right to act for herself.  I look at this picture and see a woman who used everything she had to help her fellow men.  THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

At an age just a little older than you when she could focus on anything, she set her sights on education.  She insisted that she be given a chance to learn, and was brutally attacked.  And then got back up and kept fighting.  THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

Aside from her amazing achievements and humility, I also love that she was Polish and devoted to her roots, like your Grandpa K's side of the family.  I love that I can see our Polish features in her face, along with wisdom and courage.  THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

Remember the story of the Little Red Hen and her friends who claimed "Not I!" when it came to helping her?  How easy it would have been to turn a blind eye to the horrible reality of the Nazis and just focused on saving herself.  Instead she risked everything for others - strangers. Saved thousands of children and gave everything she had to serve others.  THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

When I pass through the veil and return home, I want to be able to share just even a 1/100,000th of what these women learned and did.  I want to be able to show my Heavenly Father my treasures - my accomplishments, my knowledge.  I won't be able to show them how I painted my face or poured myself into a swimsuit.

BE BEAUTIFUL.  Learn everything you can, bring as much good into the world as you can, and give everything you can and the beauty will shine out of you like a blinding bolt of awesomeness.  Let others know that you see their beauty.  If you are always looking for the good in others, you will always have a reason to smile your beautiful smile.  And the world desperately needs your smile!

When I think of beauty - this picture* sums it up:

Quiet acts of kindness while the world rushes past you.  LOUD acts of kindness while the world whimpers past you.  THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

*I was racing all over the house last Easter morning trying to get everything ready for church and perfect Easter picture-ing and Thing 3 was laying on the floor yelling because babies want attention but attention is hard to give while you are trying to find a 4 year old's dress shirt and make pancakes - and all of the sudden, the crying stopped, and I saw WonderGirl leaning over him, singing to him.  Thank heavens this picture came out, because I couldn't see through the camera... something in my eye, or something like that.  

Tuesday, January 28, 2014


There is no point for this picture, other than to distract you from all the vomit in this post. 

I have ARRIVED, people. Picture this: I'm laying in bed this morning, when the wee ones came to snuggle up with me like they do every morning. 

The Dude hugged me and sighed - "I love you."

WonderGirl leaned in close and said -"I threw up last night."

Huh?  "When??  Did daddy come help you??"

"It was around 11.  I just threw up in my bucket and went back to sleep."

I climbed up the ladder to her bunk bed and sure enough, there it was, sitting neatly in her puke bowl next to her pillow.*

My angel child threw up in the middle of the night and there was no groggy wandering around the house, throwing blankets into washing machines and throwing kids into showers.

Typing that out now - I got a little sad. I remember when I thought if arrived when my poor 2 year old had to sleep inbetween us and when she started coughing, we'd put the bowl under her and when she was done, she'd squeak out a request for water. Parenting is SO weird.   

I still have two more chances to clean up puke. Yay!  ?  

* Ever since her very first night on the top bunk when she christened the bed with the vomits while she was trying to climb down, there has always been a puke bowl. 

Tuesday, January 21, 2014


I currently have 4 unfinished posts just sitting in Draft status because I never have enough time to sit down and coherently form anything. I never like to post and dash - I spew things out, then stop and comb them over until I feel like what I meant can be heard though all of the letters and commas and gobbledygook.  So for now, they are unfinished.  I'll get there.

But there's the hours of a day spent picking up, practicing instruments, wiping bottoms and cleaning vomit off of small humans, and those few precious minutes after they are asleep where the husband and I bake chocolate chip cookies and watch a show or two together - they all add up so that there's very little time for combing and clarifying.

This I CAN do though - post my yearly anniversary video with little explanation beside how this year, like every other year, I vowed would be my last year to slave in front of an angry computer and fiddle with timing and pictures, and then when it FINALLY came together, decided it was all worth it.   OH - but this year there is something different - I used Animoto to change up the appearance.  I still had to use Windows Movie Maker to patch and tape everything together, but I was SO glad to have more options than the 90s era video effects WMM still uses.  So, shiny!

The first song is one we've loved together since we've known each other but never felt like it belonged to a year until this one, and the second is a fun song the kids are obsessed with.  Enjoy, dang it!!

Nine. from Reva Kuzmich Paget on Vimeo.

. . . .

Also, I just have to share this brilliantly written post by Meg Fee.  She is a fabulous blogger in her mid-20s living in New York, and she was supposed to go to Paris last weekend but she didn't.  Her post about it is just amazing.  I want to send it to all my single girlfriends and save a copy to show WonderGirl when she's older.  And maybe find a time machine and send it back to my own mid-20s.

HEAR YE. I need to document the fact that I ran 3 miles and didn't feel like death.  So just to make sure it wasn't a fluke, I did...