My Dad Was Magnum P.I.

It is very frustrating to me that we don't have very many pictures of my dad when my brothers and I were younger.  The man was ALWAYS behind a camera, and never in front of one!  Taking pictures was his "hobby"...I think he was a little obsessed. I remember many hours of "ok don't smile", "now tilt your head a little", "smile but don't show your teeth"...of course now we have great pictures, but none of them with him in them.  So, no pictures for this one but it's mostly for my dad anyway and he has the pictures in his head...

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When I was a kid I had a sneaky suspicion that my dad was Tom Selek (they had a startling resemblance...to me anyway).  I was a starry eyed little girl who thought her daddy was amazing in every way.  He could rig up a swimming pool in our back yard with bricks and a tarp, he was always up for McDonald's french fries and a fruit punch, he loved the beach and...he was Magnum P.I.

He is my cheerleader. I cannot tell you how many long chorus and dance concerts he sat through.  Not to mention the musicals, where I had very minor roles.  He cheered me on when I was the only girl on an all boy soccer team, and I was so very bad. He cheered me on when I played church ball and took me to the batting cages just because it was fun, not because I was really good and needed to develop an amazing talent.  Even though I didn't have amazing talent, and it was just church ball, he was at every practice and every game with a Diet Coke and sunflower seeds in hand.  He cheered me on when I met my Russ and got married.  He cheered me on when we had kids and cheered us on when we lost our home and came to live with him.  The most wonderful thing now is that he is my children's cheerleader.

He is the peacemaker of the family.  Evey family has one, the person who can't stand for any sort of discord in the home...everyone must get along, everyone must love each other.  Sitting above the door frame of my bedroom was a broken yard stick, that my dad would threaten us with.  I don't know how it broke, but is wasn't broken over my behind, or my brother's.  I think it would have killed him to actually hit us.  He was the one who smoothed things over with my mom, for us.  He was the one who stood in between my brothers.  He was the one who gave us countless start overs.  I rarely heard him shout or yell and looking back on those times I realize that he had patience for days.  He is someone who likes to make others happy and he is happiest when his family is happy.
It was a hard thing for me when I realized my dad wasn't the perfect hero I thought he was.  It wasn't until I got married and had kids of my own that I realized my dad doesn't have any real super powers and that he felt and hurt just like me.  He went through challenges and trials just like everyone else.  When you get older and have a real life of your own you are able to see things through different eyes.  My father had his own struggles and things did not always work out how he wanted them to. He gets sad and disappointed like everyone else, and the biggest shocker to me was that he DID NOT have an endless supply of money. :O)

I am not disappointed to find out that my dad is not the perfect man I thought he was. I think of him more today, with my 35 year old brain, than I thought of him, with my 5 year old brain.  He is the sort of brave man that I wish for my children.  The kind of man who provides well for his family, treats his wife like she's a queen, treats his children like a treasure, and remembered that all good things come from a Heavenly Father.  My children are lucky because they have a father who is the hero I want for my children and I have my father to thank for that.  My father is the most wonderful example of father I could have. I did not pick someone who is exactly like my father, but has enough of his qualities to keep me starry eyed. 

Happy Father's Day Dad,

Love, Kanooga

Change Is A Com'n

One night, when I was ten, I went to my mom and dad's room. My mom was crying and maybe my dad too. They just found out that my dad got the job he was hoping to get and they were both elated. I did not realize, at that moment, that my father's new job was going to take me away from all I have ever known. We were going to leave the only home I've known, my grandparents, my aunties and uncles and cousins. We were going to Arizona.

I remember sitting in Mrs. Ono's 5th grade class a couple of days after we found out we were moving. She brought down the big pull out map of the United States and asked if anyone knew where Arizona was. I didn't have a clue. I thought it was another country, it felt like another country a whole ocean away. Hawaii all of a sudden seemed so very small. A speck on the map. I was off to this alien desert where there were cactus and snakes and hot hot weather. I don't remember being mad or upset that we were leaving our home. I was up for the adventure and for something new. I wasn't afraid of making new friends, or the possibility of not making friends. I wasn't afraid I wasn't going to fit in the new school or that I wouldn't like our new neighborhood. It was a comfort to know that we were all going to Arizona, my brothers, my mother and father and that was enough. We were going to be together.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, my husband and I and our four children are living with my parents. The move was hard. The hardest thing we have had to do since getting married. My husband says the bank screwed us, and I have to agree so we are here for a short while.

It is a little ironic that my oldest is ten years old and we moved into my mom and dad's house in October, which is exactly when my family moved to Arizona from Hawaii, and she is going to the same school I went to. She was also taken from the only home she has ever known, the only school she has ever known and with it all the people who love and care about her. However, we moved down the street, not an ocean away but none the less, she is upset and is not at all up for the adventure.

So now I wonder, why was my attitude different when I had to move to Arizona? I think it is because my comfort zone was my family, my mom and dad and my two brothers. My house and school is not what made me feel safe, it was my family. I am afraid I did not teach Kiley what my mother and father taught me. I did not teach her that change is inevitable, that no matter what you plan for your life, it will not always turn out how you want it to. I did not teach her that her family and the love we have for her is constant and is one of the the only things in her life that will never change. I am afraid I have failed miserably and I have been trying to help her see that a house is just walls and doors and windows. It is who's inside the house that matter most. The change has been so very hard on her. I know she knows that we love her and I know she loves her dad and me and her brother and sisters, but her little world has crumbled and she is not quite sure how to move on.

Today, I find myself not knowing how to move on either. I don't know where to go from here, and maybe that is why my 10 year old can't move on either. My life had some direction before we moved. I was very involved in the PTA. My calling kept me busy at church. Being the compassionate service leader there was always a steady stream of pregnant ladies to keep track of. I was busy busing kids around here and there. I was in a groove. I knew my surroundings so well, I loved knowing what to expect when I woke up. I loved that I knew just about every teacher at the kids school, and loved that they knew me and my kids. I love saying that our family was the "old timers" of the ward. The ward was full of newlyweds and first time parents. They came to our ward for school and left after a couple of years. I would look at them on their first Sunday in our ward and marvel at their bright eyes and eagerness. They were just waiting to start their new lives as newly marrieds and whatever medical field they were studying. I often wondered if my eyes were as bright...but we stayed and they just move on. We stayed for 12 years. It was our home, our comfort zone the place we felt the most safe. Our plan was to stay. Stay forever. I have learned that the life you plan for yourself may not stay the plan. Duh!

Someone once told me if I can't be happy in our little 3 bedroom, 1200 square foot home, I'm not going to be happy in a 10 bedroom home. That has stuck in my brain ever since. I jokingly used to say that I was the little old woman who lived in a shoe. Poor Maggie had to sleep in a pack n play instead of a crib, under Ty's loft bed, all because there wasn't enough space in the bedroom. I hope she won't remember that. I'm sure she'll need counceling because of it. Kiley and Jessey were in bunk beds and that was ok, but there is never ever enough room for girl clothes! I used to dream about a bigger house. But, we make our own happiness right? The moment I decided I was happy in our little house, that was the moment we decided we wanted to stay. Then the very next moment we were booted out. Our house was tiny, but we were happy. Do you think because I learned to be happy in our 3 bedroom house, someone will see to it that I can have the opportunity be happy in a 10 bedroom house? If only life worked that way. Wouldn't it be great?!

We make our own happiness. That's the line I'm selling Kiley these days. It has become an almost daily pep talk with her. She has been having some issues with classmates lately, and I say to her, "Try to do something kind for them". I tell her to do something simple like smile at them, or say hello. She has found it has made a difference and I am so grateful. She needs the assurance right now to not only know that she can make a difference in some eles' life, but she is in charge of her happiness and she can't let others determine her happiness. Plus she needs to know that mom is right!

If I have all of this great advice to give to my daughter, why can't I do the same? Sometimes it's easy to say and not so easy to do. Why can't I be the 10 year old I was 25 years ago? The little girl who stepped off the plane and ready to start a new adventure and life, with her mom and dad and two brothers. I am afraid and feel unsure of what our future is. I am afraid we will be at my mom and dad's house long enough for Russ and I to kill eachother. I am afraid my parents will kill us first. I am afraid we will never find another house of our own, that will be as great as our first home.

Through all of this...whatever it is that our family is going through, I have decided that happiness is work. We have to work to be happy. Sometimes it is so easy to chose to be unhappy. Why is that? It's easy to throw your self a pitty party. It's easy to be judgmental of someone else, especially if it makes you feel better. It's easy to pick a fight with a loved one. It's easier to not forgive. Deciding to be happy takes effort and may even require you to venture out of your comfort zone. You might have to feel uncomfortable, you might have to be the real you. You might have to be humble and realize that your life is not all that bad. Sure you don't have a house of your own right now, but at least you have a roof over your head and you are deffinatly not wanting for food, and what a wonderful blessing it is that your parents love you enough to let you live with them. That is what I tell myself everyday...I'm starting to believe it.

Why does everything good take effort? Making a good chocolate cake...effort. Getting good grades in school...effort. Raising good kids...effort. Going to the celestial kingdom...effort. ugh!

So now I say to myself, "If I can't be happy in my tiny pink bedroom from childhood, then I am not going to be happy in my future 10 bedroom house. I am glad change is inevitable. It gives me hope for our little family, to know that there is a plan for us, and thank goodness I'm not in charge of that plan. We would all probably end up on a goat farm in Tenessee (I did think about a goat farm for 15 minutes or so. I was starting to feel desperate.) I will leave it in the hands of someone who is much wiser than I, and I am so grateful that I can.

I'm Always the Only Boy

 Ty has been known to say often "I'm always the only boy".  Our friends and family seem to have a plethora of girls...where are the boys?

There are many things in my life that I feel has worked out to my complete advantage, of course with some divine intervention.  Things like, deciding to go to Ricks College right after high school, so that I would finish at the exact time that I did.  So that I would be able to meet Russ, who would convince me that I loved him and that I would spend the rest of my forever with him. And then deciding to have Kiley exactly when we did, so that Ty could come exactly when he did.

I loved being pregnant.  I read those books over and over again and I wouldn't skip to the next chapter, just so I could be surprised, and be rewarded for my patience. Every flutter was a thrill, every kick and jab was heaven and I loved every minute of it. 

I was completely convinced that Ty was a girl. Probably because all I ever knew was girl.  Kiley was a girl and she was my world.  The thought of another baby was not even comprehendable and the thought of a boy never even entered my brain.  I was totally shocked when the ultra sound tech said "well I see a turtle."  Hugh?  I thought I was having a human baby.  I didn't realize Russ was part turtle...well it turns out he is.  "Boys have turtles and girls have hamburgers". 

Pregnancies always seem like a dream.  The realness of what is going on doesn't hit you till your in the hospital and your holding this tiny 6lb 10oz thing in your arms and say your first hellos and I love yous.  Ty Russell Kekoa came into my life and I became a mother of a boy.  I never thought of myself as a girly girl mom.  You know the cool moms who dress their girls up in pink and frill and play Barbies and dress up...I did not think I was that kind of mom.  But the truth is that I had not a clue what to do with a boy.  At least I'm a girl and can help my girls be the whatever girl they wanted to be.  But a boy?  Lucky for me all Ty needed was the necessities and love.  Lucky for him, he has a dad that would take him out of his big sisters dress up shoes and hand him a toy truck.

I don't remember feeling out numbered growing up.  I was the only girl, both brothers were younger than me.  It was probably because mom and dad made each of us feel special and it didn't matter what gender we were.  Either that or I was spoiled because I was the only girl and didn't bother to notice how my brothers were doing.  I'm sure they would agree with the latter.  I wonder a lot whether or not Ty feels out numbered in this estrogen filled house.  He's a quiet soft spoken little boy and I worry that he doesn't get his say because his outspoken sisters are always jabbering away.  When I found out Maggie was a girl, Russ and I sat the kids down and made the announcement.  Ty cried.  He wanted a brother so very badly.  My heart hurt for him because I knew what it was to want something so very badly you could never have.  It wasn't that he hated his unborn sister or wish that she would never come to our family, he just very much wanted a brother.  I don't think I ever shared with him that I wanted so badly to have a sister, just as badly as he wanted a brother. Life is funny isn't it? Why do we always want what we don't have? The Lord knew that I needed Ty.  I needed his sweet calming presence in my life.  He is alomost the complete opposite of me and a gentle reminder of all the wonderful things I wish to be.   

When Ty was blessed I remember thinking how special it was that he was surrounded by all of these wonderful men. Men he would look up to and want to be like.  Men who he would emulate his life after.  Righteous men who loved their families and treated their wives the way a woman should be treated.  These men are his brothers. In reality they are his father and grandfathers and uncles, but they are apart of a great brotherhood of men. Ty will learn, like I did, that he will have brothers when he needs them, throughout all his life.  They will not come from my belly, unless Heavenly Father has a wicked sense of humor, but they will fill in the gaps and be there for him when he needs a brother.  They will come to his life when Heavenly Father allows and they will bless his life and in turn, hopefully, he will bless the lives of others and be the brother that he has always wanted.  And for that I am so very grateful.  Grateful to have men in my life who have loved and cared for me and who understand what is means to be a man.  

I have learned that there is something sweet and special about a little boy.  I know where the term mommas boy came from and I have a hard time not wanting to turn my Ty into one.  Hopefully he will turn out all right in the end and hopefully the hormonal girls in his life (i.e. his sisters and mother) haven't messed him up too much. At least he isn't wearing dress up shoes anymore!

Why Can't I Have One?

I remember looking out the window, on our way home from AhPo's house, watching the rain dance on the window and praying that I could have a baby sister.  I also wanted an older sister, but since I was the oldest I knew that would never happen.  Why do we always want what we don't have?

I wanted a sister.  I probably was sick of my two younger brothers that day, but I remember praying really hard that Heavenly Father would give me a sister.  I was maybe 5 or 6 at the time, so I'm sure I made some pretty serious promises to Heavenly Father.  "I promise I will never tie Christian's Gooffy ears together ever again", or "I promise I will be good to mommy and keep my room clean".

Not too soon after that my mother became pregnant and had a miscarriage.  Then she had another miscarriage and she could not go through that again so our family was complete.  I remember going to her doctors appointment the day she found out she had a miscarriage, I don't remember if it was the first or second.  She called my dad from the doctors office and cried all the way home.  I have been blessed with four children and never had to endure the pain of having to lose a baby, even one so very small and still developing, but even at six years old I knew it was a very painful thing my mother had to go through, and I think she came out ok in the end.

But still, I never got my sister.  I know I sound selfish and self centered.  My mother had to endure two miscarriages and all I could think about was where is my sister I prayed for?  And what would have happend if my mother gave birth to two more boys?  Why the Lord does what He does is beyond me, but I know He has a plan and it must be a really good one because I never got my sister and for that I am grateful.



 I did not know then that I would have many sisters in my life. They did not grow in my mother's belly for nine months.  A judge did not grant my mother and father parental rights to them.  They came to me when I needed them and made the deepest impression on my life.

Females who would mold and shape me.  Women who I would look up to and want to be like. Women who would love me just for who I am and love me when I would do or say something stupid. They would just love me anyway.  How did Heavenly Father know that was just the sort of sister I needed?  How does He know?

It took my mother five long years to have me.  She struggled with heart ache month after month to conceive and after five long years, I finally decided it was my turn to show up.  A year before I was born my Aunty Pua had a baby girl.  Pulama was the baby of her family.  The next oldest from her was Kapua, and he was 6 years older.  She is my first sister.  And because she has a "real" older sister, I can claim Misty as my older sister too. 

Pulama and I did everything together.  We went to the same school.  Did our hair the same.  Got the same doll at Christmas.  We got in trouble together and fought together.  Actually I remember bugging her alot, like little bratty sisters do.  We were every where together and I loved every minute of it.  When we moved to Arizona I was sad to leave my big sister behind, but then after some years, she moved to Las Vegas and we see eachother a couple times out of the year.  Most of my childhood memories have Pulama in them and I'm glad my children love her as much as I do.  I think they love her more than their own mother, but I'm ok with that.  Pulama was as close to a big sister as I could ever have.  She was a good one growing up and is still a good one now that we're grown.  Every child needs someone to pal around with.  I'm glad she came when she did and I'm glad we're still sisters.

So fast forward some years and here I am in Arizona with my own children.  Do my girls know yet how lucky they are to have eachother?  Probably not, but one day all three girls will realize how special it is that they have eachother.  Either that or they'll kill eachother first.

Life can be difficult and hard, and I am finding out that sometimes you have to fight hard.  I might have given up a long time ago if I didn't have  morning walks, midnight painting sessions, a few days at girls camp, or some hot fudge and ice cream.  It all makes the difference in my life.  Sister's get it.  They get the midnight feedings and going on fumes the next day.  They get the crying in the laundry room behind a locked door.  They get the never trading a moment of motherhood, or womanhood for that matter, but geez can I just poop in peace?  They get it all and I am so grateful for all the sisters in my life.  All the ones that I have ever cried to, laughed with or been a shoulder to. 

My hope is that my girls will be the sister that I always wanted.  Be a sister to eachother and then to the other girls in their lives.