Me and my homies…at least they were my homies before I posted these photos.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY TO:

This beautiful woman who taught me everything from right to wrong, how to tie my shoes, good fashion sense, jewelry knowhow, antique shopping, the best food places to eat at, the worst food places to eat at, and how to size shoes. You taught me love and patience, to charity and kindness, and how to win a fight (just kidding. That part just sounded cool). You taught me how to deal with stress, and take my failures with pride,  and use them to make myself a better person. You taught us girls the importance of being a family and taking the time to do things together. I love that you see what joy simple pleasures can bring, like walks on the river trails, bottle and arrowhead hunting, and even just a good old Redbox Movie night on the couch.

I love you from the bottom of my heart mom. You’re my inspiration, my guidance and my light. Thank you for always being there for me. Happy Mother’s Day!

Love,

AubMo

TWELVE YEARS AGO WE WERE IN A DUSTY BACK ROOM, all crammed onto metal chairs in front of a paper backdrop. Machelle was only two or three at the time, but she was grinning like a natural born camera ham. I was about eight, with long blond hair that hung down my back. Sam had bangs, Ashley had glasses. Mom had a different shade of hair, and Dad had more hair overall (sorry Dad. I love your hair just as it is).

Oh how things have changed.

We’ve all outgrown our bangs. Ashley and Sam got married and have children of their own. I’m living in my own apartment. Machelle is in High School and is commonly mistaken for being older than me, even with a five year gap between us. Mom and Dad have moved to a different house that is their pride and joy. It was my dad’s Grandfathers house, so it means a lot to have it stay in the family.

But some things never change. We are still a family, even if we have extended family now. So when Mom told me she wanted pictures of her four daughters for Mothers Day, I started scheming and made an appointment with Kiddie Kandids. Ashley and I had already talked about getting new ones taken (the last sister pictures we had done, I was about twelve).

But then another thought occured to me. We should have our parents there. Twelve years is a long time to go by when all you have is snapshots from cheap Kodak cameras to show the passing of time and the growth we’ve all went through.

The photo shoot went perfectly. Nobody fought (would we do that? Nawww), everybody came and everyone smiled. Best yet – I haven’t been disowned for making everyone do this.

Without further ado, here is my family.

From top left: Sam, Machelle, Ashley, Dad, Mom, Aubrey (Hey! That’s me!)

I’m glad the photographer thought to do different things, like photos of all of us together, mom and dad alone, and then some of us daughters. Mom doesn’t like this one, but us girls love it! She had to hurry and snap it before either parent shied out and changed their mind.

The four daughters all together. Can I get an “awww”?

This next one is probably my favorite picture of us. I’m particularly glad that my hair didn’t do anything funky, my eyes weren’t going in two different directions  – which I will explain in another post – and my collared shirt wasn’t too preppy.

Funny thing about my shirt. I’ve had this whole thing planned out for two whole weeks. For two weeks I’ve called everyone and told them these exact things:

• Be there at 11:45.

• Wear a white tee-shirt, with blue jeans. We’ll take off our shoes.

• Bring something for the pot luck.

and…BE THERE AT 11:45. My family is notorious for saying we’ll be somewhere on time, and showing up hours later. And no Ash, I’m not just talking about you and Niel. We all do this.

Surprisingly, no one was late.

But back to the tee-shirt. So I have it all arranged, pictures are in twenty minutes, and DEAR GOD MY WHITE SHIRT DOES NOT FIT. Remind me to try stuff on before I wear it to something as monumental as our once-every-decade pictures. I’m the planner, and I’m the only one unprepared! The shirt in the pictures was compliments of my shiny silver Visa, right after I got to the mall. Thank heavens for clothing stores in close proximity to photo shops.

Finally, a close up of all of our faces. After looking at this, we all laughed. The photographer had the two shortest sit in the front (Ashley and I) and the two tallest in the back. If we were to  go in the order we were born, it would go Ashley, Sam, myself and then Machelle.

Afterwards, we all met at my house for a pot luck. I gave an Emmy Award winning speech thanking everyone for coming, participating, chipping in financially and bringing food for the pot luck. I wasn’t joking. Thank you everyone. I’m so proud to be able to call you my family.

I’M SITTING AT MY DESK AND REFLECTING ON THE PAST SEVEN YEARS. I’m two weeks from Twenty. Two weeks away from not being a teenager anymore, and I’m not sure how I feel about this. My teen years were by far my most influential years and I’ve learned a lot from them.

The smell of  the dew-moistened grass this morning had me thinking I miss living with my parents. I miss waking up in the morning to a house full of sisters, with all of us scrambling to get ready in the only bathroom. I miss dad bringing me home McDonald’s for breakfast, and having him drop me off at school. I miss the long conversations mom and I used to have late at night. I miss arguing with Machelle over silly things, adventuring Ashley, hanging out with Sam.

I miss the indescribable feeling you get on the first day of school, when you’re decked out in new clothes and you walk with a lighter spring in your step. I miss going to class (and ditching class for that matter). I miss having friends you can pour your heart out to about your crush, and they’ll analyse every word he’s ever said to you. I miss the gossip and all the juicy drama that can be found within those scholastic walls. I miss passing notes and the sound of the bell at the end of class. I miss the library at Provo High, the smell of all those old and new books hidden in the coves of desks. I won’t forget all the good times I had, all the lessons I learned, all the memories I shared as a graduate of ’07.

I miss a lot of things.

I  also regret a lot of things.

Skipping class. Not taking certain classes, like leaving choir even when it broke my heart to do so. Failing most of ninth and tenth grade, and having to make it up in my junior and senior year. I regret dating exclusively now, because high school romances are so silly and I would’ve grown more as a person if I would have gone out with more people. I regret letting my close friends gradually go and becoming a bad friend. I regret not signing right up for college, and still not being enrolled. I feel like I’ve let myself down in that regard.

It’s times like this, when I get this homesickness for the innocence and purity of my teen years, that I have to remind myself of all the good things I have going on now.

I have a great family.  I can push any number on my speed dial and find someone to spend time with. I’m never bored or lonely. My parents have taught me the difference between right and wrong, they’ve always been there to help me in a tough spot and to celebrate my accomplishments with me. My sisters and I each have a special bond. Ashley is my rock, whom I can always talk to and find something in common with. She’s my inspiration to go to college, hold a good job and follow in her footsteps. Sam is the one I go to when I want to have a crazy fun time, driving around  town with the windows down and the music up. Machelle is my best little sister who is always game for going places. We may fight like crazy in front of people, but when its just the two of us, we get along so well.  My sisters have married some awesome guys that have even more awesome offspring. I consider all of them my real nieces and nephews, blood related or no.

My Grandmothers. I couldn’t do without them. My beautiful, outgoing and amazing Grandma B (as we call her) is always telling me that I’m on the right path. Somehow she can always sense when I need her words of encouragement. I love you Grandma! My other Grandma, or Grams as I call her, has graciously let me live in her basement and because of this we’ve become best friends. I’ve learned a lot about her that I didn’t know. She has this certain sass about her that I get a kick out of, and she has some of the funniest stories I have ever heard in my life.

I have a great, steady job that has taught me many things – communication skills, search engine optimization, teamwork – the list goes on. My job offers me challenges that I’m not so sure that I can accomplish, and I like that. It pushes me to do better, be better, work harder than I ever have  before.

I have better friends now than I did in high school. Marci, Margo and Kamie are three of the greatest gals you could ever ask for, whether it be as coworkers, friends, or online buddies. Our conversations range from funny and sarcastic to serious and deep.

Finally there is me.

No matter how I feel about myself, I have to look at the good. I stayed away from drugs, drinking and all that other garbage that the world is consumed in. I try to be a good friend, a good sister, a good daughter and grand daughter. I always want to make people smile and laugh, and I always have a new plan to take my life one step further. Yes, I am being cocky, but just think of this as my online journal, and this is a time I don’t want to forget. I have to appreciate myself to be happy. I’m living on my own, paying for my own bills (although rent and car insurance is cheap. Thank you mom/grams) and eating my own food. I go where I want, when I want and I have to make my own choices.

Sometimes I see other peoples lives and I feel envious. I wish my life were that simple, I wish I had things in order like they do. Not just the clothes, the perfect house, etc etc, but their apparent peace of mind. I want to know what I want out of this life, like they seem to know about theirs.

I have to remind myself that I chose to be me for a reason. I must have felt drawn to something about my character, my personality, my sarcasm – something. Be it what it may, when I realize that I chose this life it reminds me that I have a certain destiny to live up to. I didn’t chose to become AubreyMo and be a failure. I didn’t chose to be me just to be a couch potato, or a dreamer that never chased those dreams.

I feel that I have to live up to my potential, starting now. Twenty seems like the perfect age to do it. A new age, a new page in my life.

Just like the lyrics of the song 100 Years by Five For Fighting,

“there’s still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
there’s never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live”