Happy Mother's Day 2012

 "You know you're a Miller if your mom is so adorable that she hardly ever gets speeding tickets." It's not that she never got pulled over by an officer of the law,  there's just something about that warm smile that  makes people love my mom.  Her laugh is a reward in itself.  We would work really hard to make her giggle.  Sometimes we would cross the obnoxious line, but it was worth the risk.

 When I was born my mom was a teacher.  For most of my life she was a stay-at-home-mom, but the fact that she had been a teacher was a turning point of sorts for me.  I was in my second semester of my freshman year at BYU.  School was hard. Life was hard.  I thought, "I don't think I can make it to graduation."  Then I thought of my mom.  She was a teacher.  Teachers have degrees.  Okay, if my mom can do it so can I, and I did.


I don't know if she knew what she was in for when she married my Dad.  They decided to open their home and their hearts to all the children God would send them.  He sent them 10. Not 10 perfect children.  10 regular children with opinions.

I didn't know how blessed I was when I was a teenager.  Sometimes I felt annoyed because my mom would tell me my dress was too short, or I couldn't go with my friends until I'd done my chores.  Then I saw my first "Childbirth" video in college.  That's when I started to worship her.  The more I parent, the longer I live, the more gratitude I have for her example, strength, love and faith.


My mom liked things clean but with 10 children, well you know.  She would joke,"Leave the vacuum cleaner out and then if company comes at least they'll know we're trying."  She organized the children into work forces and carried through.  Once when it was my dish night the job was just too ominous.  I stalled and stalled.  It was very late.  I thought, "I'll just lie down on the kitchen rug and Mom will feel sorry for me and put me in bed."  She did feel sorry for me.  She shook me gently and said, "Laurie, wake up and get your kitchen cleaned so you can go to bed."  This gave me courage to follow through with my parenting.


In explaining priorities my parents used home building as a metaphor.  If you're building a house and you spend too much time worrying about the small details before you get your roofs and walls in place, when the storms come they will destroy your foundation.  One day I brought a friend home early from school, unannounced.  We walked into the house and were met by a kitchen table and benches covered with little dixie cups and dribbling liquid covering the floors.  My twin siblings, clad only in underwear, were pouring into the cups.  They may have been playing "store" or "lemonade stand" or practicing their pouring, but a perfect kitchen was not my mom's "roofs and walls," happy children were.

My mother introduced me to the awesomeness of musicals.  My first movie was the "Sound of Music."  After that is was "Mary Poppins," "The Happiest Millionaire,"and "The Family Band."  VCR's were probably invented for my mom.  How else could she watch the library scene in "The Music Man" and "It's a Hard Knock Life" from "Annie" every day?  She played Barry Manilow records on the stereo in the living room in the afternoon while the twins took their naps.  She (meaning we) also listened to Englebert Humberdink, Tom Jones and the New Christy Minstrels.


She worked hard to teach us manners.  That was no easy task and I wish I'd paid more attention after I went into the world and found my etiquette wanting.  She used one of her own mother's techniques.  My apologies to Johnny Roner, who apparently is a real person, for revealing his table indescretion.  If anyone reached across their plates or companions instead of asking politely for the food and waiting for it to be passed,  Mom reminded us, "Don't be a Johnny Roner."

My mom cared more about how people felt but less about what they thought.  If someone acted aloof or altered she would approach them and ask if she had offended them.  She would gently talk to us about treating our siblings with kindness and lifting their spirits and self-esteem.  On the other hand,  when she needed more cross-breeze in her room she cut a hole in the wall and covered it by day with a picture.  One night my date was walking me from the car.  He asked in a wary tone, "What's that?"  It was my parents sleeping on the roll away bed under the willow tree.

She was steadfast in living a Christlike life.  We had daily scripture study and prayers, weekly family home evening, and we never missed church unless we were sick.  If we were travelling, we went to church wherever we were.  The most amazing feat my mom accomplished was getting us to church on time.  Dad usually went early because he had responsibilities.  She would load us all into the station wagon, which was amazing in itself, then we would do the pick-up.  It might be a single woman, someone who hadn't been to church in a long time, or someone who wanted to learn about church.  I think about that and I want to be a better person.

My mother isn't someone you would call a "tough" person, but she has seen some tough times and showed great strength.  One year she had a husband in bed as a kidney recipient, a son in bed as a kidney donor and a child suffering from a brain tumor.  How does one even survive trials like this?  But survive she did.  Her heart's been broken a few times, but it remains full of love and faith and hope.  When my life gets challenging I think of her and remind myself, "If she can do it, so can I."

I love this picture of Mom in her room full of pink roses, children, grandchildren. and  warm smile.

Daniel's adorable guest blog

My dear mother is the best of all moms, probably in the universe. She’s shared her wisdom and humor with us in a series of well-written blog posts. While she is not yet reached the masses, of which all will soon convert to become adoring fans, the time has come for her to have a guest blogger, who can exclaim just how awesome she is. So with that lengthy introduction, I am pleased to be blogging in a tribute to Laurie Stoker on mother’s day.

My mom is the best, straight up. But seriously, no one can deny that Laurie Stoker is an accomplished mother. She’s raised 9 kids, 7 boys and 2 girls, with such a wide range of personalities and traits. She has done so while living in 10 different states (people always just assume I come from military tradition with the frequency of her moves). Her mothering style is an art that is in constant improvement, but throughout her legacy, she maintains and defines some traits that are exemplary in motherhood: unconditional love, selflessness, family organization and efficiency, and fun-loving and generating personality.

My mom loves unconditionally; she’s actually a rock star at this. With 7 different male personalities (not all of us humble or considerate) transitioning from the adorable 2 year old stage to the probably annoying stage (insert an age from 6-18 here), she endured more than her fair share of challenging moments (I was probably responsible for an above average amount of these). But, I remember my mom being the most patient and loving person. As I look back, now a parent myself, I realize how patient and loving she truly was. Her expression of love was patience and acceptance, no matter what and in every situation. I know where ever I am or whatever I do, my mom will always love me.

Mom is selfness and sacrificial. It’s actually part of her ethos, and not just a buzzword. Most recently, she braved 4000 miles of Pacific Ocean and sleepless nights (and time changed days) to come and see her newest grandchild, Landon. She casually said, it was the “standard Grandma visit.” Although I don’t consider 17 hours of travel across 13 time-zones standard. While there, she was up whatever time of night or day if Landon would cry to try to give me and Erica a break. I know how wacky circadian rhythms can get when traveling, and I know that was a sacrifice. Laurie casually accomplishes the selflessness of motherhood, she makes it look easy because it is who she is, not what she makes herself do.

There is an art to parenting, and my mother is a master artist. When I get out of the military, I intend to make a $1,000,000 forcing my mom to write down her parenting techniques in a book. Just kidding. . . .but seriously. She organizes the home with clear objectives in mind, sets goals and policies to accomplish those objectives, and then executes day-to-day operations in accordance with her policies and goals. (that sounded very analytically and structured, but in truth many of her objectives are emotional and spiritual so it’s not military camp;)). Our family has a mission statement I still remember: To create a safe place where our family can grow relationally, physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually (paraphrase). If our actions were contrary to our mission statement, they were adjusted by a variety of means, some of which are legendary. That said, most reactions were proportional, character building, constructive to the home environment and easily repeatable. To the scientists or engineers out there. That means Laurie Stoker repeatedly produces quality kids time after time. The product continues to improve as the processes are refined, but the bottom line is that my mom is a professional and I am very greatful.

All that said, mom is super fun to be around and always up to party. As she’s transitioned from mother/teacher to mother/friend, I’ve enjoyed her personality and fun spirit more and more. I see it in her participation in activities that are fun for each age group (reference her blog about a fun with the Stoker kids still at home). She definitely made a memory with my son, Caleb playing Mario Kart Wii, and doubled the yearly amount of baked goods made at our house with Erica. But most of all, she is a joy just to be around: easygoing, intelligently fun, just the right amount of sarcastic, and lovingly endearing.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom, we love you  

You Know You're a Miller If...

Just a normal day on the farm (getting dressed wasn't priority one)

A few years ago my sister Mary came up with the fun idea of compiling a book of memories copying the "You know you're a redneck"  idea.  I'm not saying we're rednecks... but I'm not saying we're not.  As I was reading through this book i was reminded  of some great times growing up.

Today I'm going to share a few   (I know you were all hoping.)  And, each comes with an explanation so the "Not Miller" readers can enjoy the fun.

"You know you're a Miller if you've had sardines for lunch on a road trip."  We took a lot of road trips.  We would visit our grandparents in UT and on special years, Disneyland.  Our family was sometimes poor but always frugal.  If we were going to stop at McDonald's, it wasn't going to be until the lunch we had packed was gone.  What better travelling lunch food than canned sardines?  They last forever, they're full of protein and taste...well they're full of protein.

All the Millers together after Carrie and Heidi Jo's missions

"You know you're a Miller if you shared 1 can of 7up with your 5 siblings and it was enough."  On these road trips, after we had our satisfying lunch, Dad would buy us a little treat from the gas station.  Now he knew that a can of pop for one little girl was too much and not that healthy, but a little sip of pop would be just the ticket, so he'd buy 1 can to share.  One or two sips is actually all I need to this day.

"You know you're a Miller if you have painted the family room floor with a checkerboard, hopscotch and your name."  We were adding a room onto the house.  The concrete was poured and dry.  For family night one night  my Dad decided to make a family "time capsule" of sorts.  We all got a brush and paint.  We decorated the whole floor with the delightful idea that someday, someone else would be living in our home, pull up the carpet and say, "What the?"

"You know you're a Miller if your field was a maternity ward for cows."  In California we lived on 10 acres, about 3 of which we used.  We rented the other part to the dairy across the street.  Our property was the pasture for the pregnant cows.  I remember watching out the window while a cow gave birth.  It was terrifying, but I couldn't look away.

"You know you're a Miller if you've snuck a bite of Dad's paddle-sized sugar daddy sucker."  My Dad had this huge sugar daddy sucker that he got in college.  I don't remember the story, but it was somehow connected to his  fraternity.  He kept the sucker in a special place, and for years he would take it out and show us.  It was magnificent.  I don't remember the day I went to the dark side, but at some point the temptation was too great. I untwisted a little of the paper covering and snuck a teeny piece. Time went on and  one night he called us all together. He showed us his prized sucker with a significant cavity in the side of its previously perfect rectangular shape.  "I want you to tell the truth.  Who's been sneaking my sucker?" .  I had to confess, "I have."  Do you know what?  So had my other siblings.  That doesn't make it right, but it did make me feel better about my criminal past.  There was still hope for us.

"You know you're a Miller if you have Pete's dragon in your yard."  It could also be ykyam if you love and sing the music to the Pete's Dragon movie.  My brother Sam was young when the movie came out and there was seriously nothing cuter than hearing him sing the song.  We made him perform it for us time after time.  My Dad loves to create.  There was a dead tree in the yard and Dad knew just what it needed to be turned into. He used his chain saw and turned the dead tree into Elliot.

Sam, Dad , Pete and Pete's dragon coming down.

Happy Birthday Brandon

If you want to get in good with your mom, come into the world on Mother's Day after 2 hours of labor.  That's the first lesson we learn from Brandon.   Another lesson we learn from him is that  family is great.  He snuggled a lot as a baby.  One night as a 3 yr. old he cuddled up and said, "We love der chothers (each other) don't we?"  When he was older he made up games to play with his brothers.  There were long episodes with stuffed animals and legos.  The last time he came to visit he made a point to spend time with each person.  Gabe was happy that Brandon still likes long episodes with legos.  One night before I was supposed to have elementary school lunch with Brandon, he excitedly asked, "Are you getting ready for our lunch?"  The next day while we were playing tetherball on the playground, some friends wanted him to play.  He said, "I can't .  I'm playing with my mom right now.

Brandon teaches me to speak gently.  When he was about 11 he was already making plans for when he was a dad.  Jacob brought one of his shirts in for Eliza.  I said, "Put that back, Jacob."  Brandon added, "But thanks for offering." Another time I asked  Aaron if he had done something.  He said, "Yes."  I started giving him a lecture.  Brandon said, "Thanks for telling the truth." On one occasion when Brandon had dropped all his school stuff in the living room, I opened the basement door and yelled, "Brandon!"  He came running up. I started in, "You left your stuff all over the place."  He calmly replied, "Oh. I'm sorry.  I'll pick it up."  I was completely diffused.  His brother looked at me like, "What just happened?  How did mom stop yelling?"

The fourth lesson we learn from Brandon is play to win because winning matters.  We have some favorite "Brandon is competitive" stories.  There's a game the boys play.  I can't remember the name, but they all know what it is.  It was the night before Nathan was leaving to serve a mission in Brazil for two years.  Brandon and Nathan played the game and Nathan won.   Brandon acted like he was fine with it.  But...in the middle of the night...Brandon had been considering the consequences of Nathan having the win for 2 years. He crept into Nathan's room and said, "Nathan.  Wake up.  Do you want to play_____?" Unfortunately for Brandon, there was not to be a rematch for a long time.

 Brandon prided himself (did I say pride?) on being a good Stratego player.  He said, "I want to marry someone who can beat me in Stratego."  We thought he'd grow out of that criteria, but he didn't need to.  One night Mallory called and said, "Guess what?  I beat Brandon at Stratego."  There were smiles throughout the land.

The last lesson we learn from Brandon is to love God.  When he was very young he said,  "I'll never go to Satan.  I want to be with Jesus."  I believe him, and when I spend time with him and his beautiful family I think that's exactly where they'll be.

"I'm having a Christmas Moment."

Waiting in the Standby Line

Last December we were in UT for my daughter's wedding.  The Sunday following the wedding our lifelong friends and we were contemplating driving from Provo to Salt Lake with the hopes of getting into the Christmas  Mormon Tabernacle Choir Sunday program.  AKA "Music and the Spoken Word"  After considering the early departure, potential crowds, cold weather, and the chance for disappointment my friend said, "I'm in."  So was I.  We gathered all family members who were interested on that dark winter morning and headed north.  We joined the other hundreds of people who were on standby in the tabernacle to await our fate.  We were on one of the front rows so I felt good about our chances.  That, and the fact that it was my friend's birthday.  Who wouldn't want to give that sweet girl her heart's desire?  We had arrived before 8:00 am.  The program started at 9:30.  At about 9:10 we got the exciting news that we were in!  With that happy thought we walked out of the tabernacle onto temple square where we were met by a beautiful nativity.  At that very time the "First Noel" loop that always played  sang out, "And let us all, with one accord."  Well that's the swell that makes you cry and I did.  It was funny because I actually think the clouds parted and we could see the beautiful mountains for just a second.  That was when my friend said, "I'm having a Christmas moment."  A Christmas moment indeed.  That's what I think of now when I think of music that opens a little window to heaven and puts my heart in the right place.  (I'm sharing "The First Noel" so you can feel the Christmas moment.)

I have a favorite hymn that always gives me a Christmas moment.  It's called "How Firm a Foundation."  I've known this song my whole life, but it didn't become my favorite until I sang the verses that were typed at the bottom of the page.  The verses that they don't usually have time to sing in church meetings.  Now this hymn is a great source of strength to me.  

 "When through the deep waters I call thee to go

The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o'er flow.

For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,

And sanctify to thee and sanctify to thee

And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose

I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes.

That soul, though all hell shall endeavor to shake

I'll never no never, I'll never no never, I'll never no never no never forsake.

I asked some of the people I love the most what their favorite hymn was.  I wanted to know what gave them strength.  Here are their answers: (I'm still waiting for a few)  Paul-"Battle Hymn of the Republic", Daniel-"I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" and"The First Noel"  (Good choice), Brandon- "Lead Kindly Light and Master the Tempest is Raging," Mallory- "I Stand All Amazed,  Nathan "For All the Saints," Ariane-"Praise to the Lord the Almighty,"  Aaron-"I Believe in Christ" and "I Need Thee Every Hour," Jacob- "Come, Come Ye Saints" and "Nearer My God to Thee," Eliza-"Lead Kindly Light," Joseph- "Savior Redeemer of My Soul," "Reverently and Meekly Now," "As Now We Take the Sacrament," "Praise to The Lord the Almighty," "If You Could Hie to Kolob,"  Andrew-"Praise To The Man," Rebecca- "In Humility, OurSavior," "I Need Thee Every Hour," "Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief," "I'll Go Where You Want Me to Go," "I Know That My Redeemer Lives," Gabe-"Battle Hymn of the Republic,"  Dad-"I Know My Father Lives," Mom- "There is a Green Hill Far Away," and "Battle Hymn of the Republic."  

Inspirational music is such a gift.  It's one of the first places I go when I need a "Christmas Moment."

PS  The Christmas Music and the Spoken Word was so fantastic it took my breath away.  We weren't supposed to clap, but it was so joyful it made me want to stand up and twirl.  You should go.

Hero Saves Damsel in Distress or a little trip to the ER.

So last night after we had gone to bed I thought I was developing a UTI.  I went downstairs to get some cranberry juice and to read my new girl book, "Edenbrooke, a proper romance."  It quickly became apparent that I was in a bit of trouble that I really just wanted to go away.  I had back pain, nausea, etc.  I snuck onto the internet (the computer is our bedroom) and surmised that I might have a kidney infection, and  that I probably needed to be on antibiotics.  Considering my options, I had the annoying realization that a trip to the emergency room was in my near future. When I woke my sweet husband, he reacted perfectly as he jumped out of bed with, "What can I get you?"  I needed a priesthood blessing, a tylenol and a throw-up bowl (more TMI to come.)

Emergency rooms are just not very pleasant places, although everyone was kind.  That might have been magnified by the fact that I didn't  feel very well and it was in the middle of the night.  The sign read, "We see patients in the order of their urgency, not on a first come-first served basis."  The nice receptionist asked why I wanted to be seen and Paul answered for me since I promptly threw up into my bowl.  I promise I wasn't trying to be dramatic, but I think it did the trick because I got into triage in a very timely manner.  I do feel sorry for all the people in the waiting room.  The only thing worse than being in the ER waiting room is being in the ER waiting room with a throwing up lady.  I still have to smile at that embarrassing situation, the way they tried to look away, the thought of how I looked to them, the awkwardness goes on and on.

Anyway, the triage nurse took some blood and sent me to wait for the Dr.   The whole time Paul was being so sweet.  He tried to start pleasant conversation to help diffuse my discomfort.  Unfortunately, I was not open to the pleasant conversation idea.  It reminded me of the time I was in labor with my firstborn.  He was telling me about the Heisman candidates and asking my opinion.  Who wasn't interested in that topic?  Well, his wife having contractions wasn't. Anyway,  he continued to be patient with me, carried my purse, told me when the Dr. was there so I could come out of the bathroom, and remembered what the Dr. said so we could get the proper prescription.

When the doctor came in he confirmed our suspicions and prescribed antibiotics, anti-nausea medication and a morphine shot.  Yay morphine!  We got home about 3:00 am.  I slept in.  Paul got up at 6:15, got the kids off to school, took my stuff for Family Fun Day to the elementary school office, picked up my medication and cranberry juice, and went off to work.  My hero.

Other than how thankful I am for my husband, the thing that is most evident to me is how nice it to be pain-free.  I kept thinking how much I liked the time before my back started really hurting.  Then I thought of all the people I love who have chronic pain.  My mom has had a headache for years.  That she has such a full and loving life is beyond heroic.   I have an aunt and sister who suffer debilitating migraines, yet their faith in God is sure.  Then I thought of the ultimate sacrifice and the pain suffered by my Savior so that I could repent and be healed and return home to live with my Father.   My heart was filled with gratitude and love.

Grandparents are awesome

I guess one of the good things about being an oldest child is I have quite a few memories of my grandparents. I had six grandparents.  My dad's parents were Ila Ruby Casto and Janus Wayne Miller.  My grandparents on my mom's side were a little more complicated.  Christina Gregerson and Max Edward Miner married and had 2 children, the youngest being my mother.  They divorced.  Christina married Vernon Pehrson Fawson and Max married Faires Sampson.  This may not be interesting to some readers, but I want my children to have this information and what better place to put it than on the internet?

Today I spent some time looking at the family history prepared by my mom and dad and other family members.  I'm impressed with the gathering and typing and research, all done without www.familysearch.org, ancestry.com or digitalized census.  Thank you family.  My favorite genealogy to look at is the picture pedigrees and personal history.  I love reading the stories and learning about characteristics of my ancestors and seeing the little"profile pics."

Reading about Christie and Vern Fawson triggered some fond memories.  They lived in Grantsville, UT.  Their house was right on main street.  I liked to sit on the porch and watch the cars drive by. These are the kinds of things I did before facebook. The irrigation ditches were right out front.  Each driveway formed a bridge over the ditch.  It was super fun to go to the neighbor's bridge, drop a stick in the ditch and have a sister or neighbor lying on Grandpa's bridge to try and catch it. This game lasted for days.

Grandpa had a few horses and some cows and one big scary bull.  My uncles warned me to watch out for the bull.  He was dangerous.  That's all it took.  I refused to go anywhere on the farm if the bull was  in sight.  One day I looked out the window and saw my Uncle David actually leading the bull by a ring in his nose down the road to the corral.  From that day on my uncle was the bravest most heroic person I knew.

One very exciting day my grandpa let me help him load hay.  He asked me to drive the truck pulling the trailer.  Drive the truck?  I didn't even have a license.  How awesome was that?  Woo hoo!  I was to drive slowly along the field while Grandpa and my uncle loaded the bales of hay.  I was doing great until I turned a corner a little too sharply.  My unflappable Grandpa came running with a decidedly flapped look on his face.  The whole trailer of hay bales almost turned over.  Almost. I got lucky, but that was enough driving for me for a while.

Grandma Fawson was warm and cheerful,  definitely a gusher.  She made me little personal banana breads in empty tin cans.  She kept her flour in a drawer.  In another drawer she kept some books just for me.  Well, they might have been for all the children visiting, but I thought they were just for me. She was famous for making all guests feel like they were home.

Alan Miner, Grandma Fawson, Grandpa Fawson, Mom.  Back row Deana, Don and David Fawson