My Love Note to KUER

I feel as if I'm in a bit of a mourning period. I just closed the door to such an important and fulfilling chapter in my life. After nearly 8 years I said goodbye to my dream job at KUER. I'm sure you are wondering, "Well if it was your dream job, they why did you leave?" I left because it was time. I left because I was ready to feel uncomfortable in a job again. I was ready to move, stretch, grow and take-off into the unknown.


That doesn't mean I am not scared. I am. I'm terrified.

I've blogged before about what public radio means to me and why I feel it is so important. I grew up in a family that didn't listen to NPR. Hell, I didn't even know what NPR was until I was dating Seth. We were on our way to the farmer's market in August of 2005 and we were talking about the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. He just kept telling me all of these facts and stories that he knew and had heard. Now, I had paid attention to the news but I had not a heard anything like he was telling me. I remember exasperatedly saying to him, "Where are you hearing these stories!?" He calmly responded, "I listen to KUER." I questioned him, "What is KUER?"

I started listening that day and from that day on I felt my entire understanding of the world begin to shift. It didn't have to do with so-called "liberal propaganda." It had everything to do the human voice. It wasn't some reporter standing on the banks of the flood waters in New Orleans telling me what was happening. It was a reporter handing the microphone to a person, and rather than me having any visual and pre-conceived judgment of a person, I simply heard a voice. A voice that was in complete distress. I heard a human hurting and I hurt for them. From that moment on I was hooked. I started listening every day and haven't stopped since. It became a bit of an obsession. There was so much about politics and the world that I never understood. But NPR had a way of slowing the news down and explaining things. Not telling me what I should believe, not screaming at me, not throwing talking heads on to spew their opinions....they just reported the news...with real voices. It was like the world had cracked open and I couldn't absorb all of the new ideas and knowledge fast enough. It changed me. It still changes me and challenges me every day. That's why I still listen. That's why I will always listen. And that's why I will continue to tell people about public radio and share with them why it is so important to listen. Because truthfully it has made me who I am today. A more empathetic person, a more informed citizen and a more involved member of our community.


Needless to say, when I saw a job opening at KUER I knew I had to jump on it. I remember getting a call from Susan Kropf the day after I submitted my application and almost screamed. I was SO excited ... it was THE Susan that I heard talk on the radio. We scheduled an interview and I drove down to Salt Lake (I was living in Boise at the time) to meet the staff. I remember leaving the interview, excitedly calling Seth and saying, "Those are MY PEOPLE!" I was offered the job and I was elated.

As I've looked back on my time at KUER I think of how much I have personally changed. When I started I wasn't even 30 yet. I had no kids yet and was able to just dive-into the job. I remember being so excited to meet Doug Fabrizio, and still after a couple years of working there would get tongue-tied around him. I remember Spring of 2011 was my very first fund drive. I arrive at 5:30am and clapped in complete astonishment and excitement when the first call came into the phone room. The first time they asked me to talk on the radio I was sweating I was so nervous. I called and told everyone and made sure to tell them to tune-in. I couldn't believe I was so lucky. On my last fund drive, I asked someone to cover my shift during All Things Considered, I was just too burned out to talk more. 29-year-old me would never have believed it.

Here I am, firmly headed toward middle-age, a good twenty pounds heavier, a mom of two, certainly more jaded, but I think much more wise. I have changed a lot since I started but I couldn't have asked for a better place to take me through these years. KUER was incredibly nurturing to me as a pregnant woman.

I was so lucky. I was encouraged to nap at work, my boss even brought me a mat to sleep on.  They brought me a zero-gravity chair and snacks. I was spoiled and taken care of through the entire process, but never more-so than after.

The men and women of KUER were great but there was a special sisterhood among the development women. I remember one evening, I was still on maternity leave with Matilda and my former boss Susan was hosting a girl's night at her house. I was deep in postpartum depression but knew getting out would be helpful. I arrived at Susan's and was immediately swarmed with friendly smiles and faces. I remember my coworker Ja'Naye asking me how I was and I just burst immediately into tears. She said, "It's ok. We have you. You're here now. We've got Matilda. You are good." I was completely enveloped into their care and I'll never forget that night. I never held the baby. I got a moment to breathe. THAT was what made KUER special. The friendships. They were there for me through two babies, marriage rough spots, the loss of my father-in-law, and lots of family heart-ache If I needed to go home early, it wasn't ever an issue. If I needed to come to work...and just sit in my office to get AWAY from the drama at home, that was ok too. That support system was vital and really helped me survive those rough years. I'm so grateful to each of them. I can't imagine I'll ever find that kind of support again.

Working for KUER was also just mentally stimulating. Do you know how great it is to walk into your office and say, "Can you believe what the president tweeted about today!?" and everyone knows exactly what you are talking about? Or ... after a particularly heated RadioWest to stand around and talk about the topic further. I loved diving into discussions about politics, films, TV shows, art, etc. Everyone there was so interesting. People who were as ticked off about air pollution as I am. I remember the day after the 2016 election, it was like a funeral in the office. Everyone was upset. But everyone was there because we all had jobs to do.

One job I always asked potential hires was, "How do you feel about profanity?" because boy do the people there love to swear as much as me. We are one loud group of opinionated people. We had lunch breaks where we would sit around our conference room table and laugh so hard we would cry, talking about life, kids, sex, money... ANYTHING. Our office was an open book and you never knew what you were going to read.

And then there were my donors.  They weren't "my donors" but I began to refer to them that way because they started to feel like "my people". What I learned from my donors was something that I'll never forget. First, live an active and full life. I love being home but I never want to be a homebody. I love that my donors loved to come to any and everything that I offered them. Wine tastings, discussions about gun-control, live lectures, concerts and operas, cooking classes, etc. They came to everything. They got out of the house and they got involved in their community and I absolutely admire them for that. I remember many times people emailing me and saying, "Now what do we have tickets to tonight? Who is the band? I haven't even heard of them but apparently they are good so we didn't want to miss out!" Yes! That is absolutely how I want to live my life. I want to live it to the fullest. I want to meet people, stay busy and expose myself to all kinds of entertainment, discussions and ideas as I possibly can. I want to walk into a room of people, not caring if I don't know another soul, and know that I could potentially meet a new friend that night. I want to travel the world and see different cultures and countries. I want to step out of my comfort zone. Because that is how you live. So thank you. Thank you for being such amazing examples of living a full life. I hope to emulate that.

It's time to move on. It's time to try my hand at another organization. It's time to get uncomfortable again. To meet new coworkers and donors. It's time to learn a new system. To show-up on-time and be on my A-game again. Because KUER and "my people" will never be far. All I have to do is turn on my radio. Or walk around Red Butte, or show up at a rally or a community event. You are everywhere that is anywhere. You always will be. I'll never forget these remarkable 8 years. They very well may be some of the best of my life.

Keep listening. I know I will.

The Mental Load

Today I feel crushed. I can't focus. I can't work. I can't cross even the easiest of tasks off my list. And the fact that I feel so incapacitated is just adding to my stress. My brain is just spinning. What is wrong with me? How come other moms seem to have it all together but I am barely hanging on for dear life?

I've been thinking a lot about the mental load. A load that, at least in my relationship, falls much more heavily on mom. It's the last week of school. Which apparently, since I am so new to the "kids in school" concept, is busy. Tonight we have another school activity. It starts at 5:30 and lasts until 7:30. Last night I mentioned to Seth, "Oh man, we have the dance thing tomorrow, ugh." He looked at me exasperatedly and said, "You need to stop complaining about the things you need to do as a mom. We have 12 more years of this. 12 more years of school activities. Get used to it."

This stung. It stung because I felt guilty. Guilty that I wasn't looking forward to seeing my kid dance. Guilty because I am seeing the night as more stress than fun. But it also stung because it is so much more than just showing up at an event. I get off work at 5. Traffic leaving the university can be gnarly, will I even make it on-time? And what about Millie? How am I going to get her there early? Will I remember to have our nanny change her into the green shirt she is supposed to wear? Oh shit, is that even clean? And what about dinner? When will we have dinner? Oh! Food trucks will be there. That's good. But my kids don't eat normal food. So it'll be a waste of money. Hum. Maybe I'll just bring snacks? Great! Another night of granola bars and cheeze-its. Matilda is sick. Is she going to be whiny and miserable at 5:30 like she has been the last 3 nights? How will I handle it if she is sick? Maybe I'll just stay home with her. I can miss one thing for Millie. Wait, remember how Millie said to me a few days ago, "Can't you just quit work? We miss you and we see way more of Rylee than we see of you!" Mom guilt. The greatest amount of mom guilt I have ever felt. Clearly I can't miss it. Ok, think Becky...how can you make this work? Millie can go early with Mira. I can run home and pick up Tilda, pack a few snacks and head to the school. I'll have to leave work early, which sucks, because I am snowed under, but OK. I will do it. We can eat a late dinner. And even if Tilda doesn't eat much, she'll drink milk and juice tonight and that'll fill her up.

Crap! We are out of juice. Matilda had a breakdown last night when you put her to bed because we are out of juice. Don't forget to stop and get juice. Also, don't forget it's Teacher Appreciation Week! You keep forgetting to send a gift with Millie. Apparently you were supposed to send flowers on Monday, a treat on Tuesday, etc. What in the world will I send? And do I send it for just her main teacher? Or should I include the academy teachers? Crap. I need to run and do that tonight after Seth gets home and the kids are in bed. Oh, he's going to a movie tonight. Ok! I'll find a time to do it today! Maybe after my lunch meeting?

This. This is my brain today. This is just a small fraction of what I am thinking and worrying about.

12 more years of school stuff. He's right. Buck up girl. Yet, he doesn't deal with even 1/4 of what I deal with. When Seth works, he just works. He can't leave for school programs. I'm lucky to have the flexibility with me job to be able to leave. I've volunteered a handful of times at her school. I've been a chaperone on field trips. I have bought and put together the Valentine's for her party. I brought the treats for her birthday to her class. I figured out the Halloween costume and was there taking pictures at the parade. I've signed the permission forms. I've taken her to assessment and been 2 hours late to work. I've rearranged the nanny's schedule when school is off unexpectedly. I get the emails from schools. I get calls when she is sick. I run to Costco and buy snacks when asked to pitch in.

The list goes on and on. This. This is the mental load. This is what I carry around. This is just one portion of the mental load of everyday life. I think that moms keep the list of things we can't forget to buy at the store. It's mom that remembers if there is a load of laundry waiting to be folded in the dryer. It's mom that notices how dirty that bathrooms are. It's mom that worries about getting both girls signed up for some fun summer classes. I'm the one that notices if Matilda doesn't have the right pair of summer shoes for her constant scooter riding. I'm the one that meal plans and does the majority of the cooking. It just never gets easier. Sometimes I'm at a phase in my life where I feel like I do have the ability to balance it all. But right now, I sure don't. I'm drowning. I'm not a very good mom, and I'm a super unfocused employee....when I can't afford to be and I'm a crap family member and spouse.

Can someone come and just scoop the overwhelming thoughts out of my brain? Cause I need to function. I need to pick up the pieces of my life and start getting shit done again

Gracefully faking it? Ha. Right.

Are you there God? It's me Becky

The other night I was having a conversation with my cousin and sister-in-law about religion and spirituality. It's been nearly 13 years since I have left Mormonism. The three of us talked about our various journeys away from the church. For a few years after I left, I still felt the need to be close to God. I thought about attending another denomination, but nothing felt quite right. I tried to pray, but praying to a God that wasn't the Mormon God I always thought I knew, felt weird. When times got tough, I started asking for help from my family members that have already passed.

At first, it was my grandpa. Losing him was incredibly hard. He left such a gaping hole in our family and in my heart. I still miss him. I suppose I always will. When I was struggling I would often talk out loud to him. That brought me peace.

 As time has gone by, I have stopped praying completely. I couldn't tell you the last time I actually knelt down and prayed. I haven't felt that my life was really missing something. I have began to wonder if I really even believe in a God or a higher being. I've started thinking of myself as agnostic. I don't know. And honestly, I'm ok with that. For the first 20 or so years of my life, I did believe in God. I believed fully. In this phase in my life, I'm just sitting with the idea that there may not be a God. I can't guarantee that I will always feel this way, but for now, I am just trying to let it be.

Interestingly enough, I feel like I have grown into a more compassionate and loving person without religion in my life. I don't look at people and think that they are somehow missing out on some truth. I don't look at people as sinners. I feel like each of us have our own needs and own beliefs that help sustain us through this life. Some absolutely love and need religion and I am completely ok with that. For others, living a life that is accepting, open and focused on equality is enough. I don't mean to imply that those who choose to a religious life are somehow less open. Not at all. I really just am explaining my own path and how I feel it has shaped me.

When I was talking with the girls that night I mentioned a question that I seem to keep bumping up against in this phase. Can I believe in an afterlife and not believe in God? I absolutely believe that our loved-ones are still around. I wouldn't say I believe in "heaven" or "hell" but I do think that they are still "here". Whether that be in some sort of spirit or other realm. I have had too many experiences in my life with family member that is no longer here. I have seen my great-grandmother kneeling next to my bed when I woke up in the middle of the night. She didn't frighten me at all. She smiled, stood up and was gone. I was going through my divorce at the time and I believe she was there to watch over me. When I was really suffering from postpartum depression, I asked my grandma that had passed away just days before, to help me that night.

When Matilda woke up in the middle of the night, I walked into her nursery and smelled roses. The smell was so strong, that it completely stopped me in my tracks. I looked around her nursery thinking, "Maybe Seth brought me roses and put them in here?" Of course, there was nothing. The next day when I sent a message to my aunt Kristy and told her I had a neat experience the night before she said, "You smelled roses didn't you? That's her. That's when she is around." These are just a couple of experiences I have had. But they have been powerful enough for me to believe that life doesn't end when we die.

And then there is David.

Losing my father-in-law was and still is a heart-wrenching experience. The past year and a half has been one of the hardest times of my life. When Seth and I were struggling through our worst times...times when I really thought one or the other would be walking out the door...I asked David for help. In those couple of completely hopeless times, after pleading to David, I have felt things shift. Instantly. And I have been so grateful for him and his guidance.

As I was mentioning this, I had a realization...maybe it wasn't David helping me at all. Maybe it was God.

I think in a way we are all God. David is God. My grandpa is God. I am God. We are all God.

This spiritual journey continues to evolve. I have been thinking a lot about prayer the last few weeks. Prayer used to bring me a lot of peace. I'm realizing that what makes prayer so powerful is the introspection that comes from the act. Prayer causes you to stop, slow down and think about your flaws, your pain and your gratitude. You think about what you could personally work on. "Help me be more patient. Help me be more kind. Help me be a better wife/mother/daughter" Plus the simple act of being grateful makes a person happier. How many of us have a gratitude journal? And then you shift to thinking of those in your life that need help. You stop thinking about yourself and think of them. What a beautiful thing. Maybe I need to pray again. Or meditate. Something that allows me to slow-down, refocus and find ways to be better.

So no, right now I don't believe in a higher-power. But I do believe in the higher-power of us. And of me. And for now, that feels like more than enough.

2017 In Moments

At the end of 2017 I spent a lot of time looking back. It was a tough year in which grief rocked our world. Losing David was incredibly painful in 2016. The aftermath of his death felt even more painful. I watched as my marriage started to unravel through the grief. Seth was reeling. He was depressed and really retreated into himself. I didn't know how to be there for him. Turns out I wasn't there for Seth in the way that he needed me to be. He was hurting and I wasn't there for him in the right way. I'll always regret that. I thought I was doing what I needed to do for Seth and his family but it was far from enough. I won't sugarcoat things. Our marriage was precariously close to ending. Thanks for support from our families and some nudging from close friends, we navigated through. We came out the other end. Raw, jaded and hurt but still intact. Every day requires a lot of effort. There are still days and moments when we wonder if it's all worth it. And yet there are moments where life becomes crystal clear. Moments when the world seems to slow down and things come into sharp perspective. That's what life is really about right? The little beautiful moments that make all of the difference. And while I have no desire to relive 2017, it wasn't all hard. It had wonderfully beautiful moments. That's what I choose to focus on as I look back at this really hard year. Here are some highlights.

In February we went on a trip to DisneyWorld with our closest friends and no kids. We flew the red-eye from Salt Lake to Florida on the worst airline. We got zero sleep and arrived early in the morning in Florida, bleary-eyed. We wasted no time and went straight to DisneyWorld. We spent the day exhausted and happy. We had to stop a few times to rest. We charged our phones, ate, and even napped before getting up and running and riding rides for the next few hours. That night, we had reservations to eat dinner in Cinderella's castle. We were the only people there that were strictly adults. Everyone else had their children. But we went, 5 adults, and ate a really great meal. We had champagne and took pictures with the characters. After dinner we had about 7 minutes before the park was set to close, and we still hadn't made it onto my favorite ride, Splash Mountain. My friend James and I decided to make a run for it. We dashed out of the castle and ran across the entire park. We were existing on no sleep, our feet were hurting and we were a bit dizzy from champagne. But we made it! fWe were one of the last ones to get on the ride. The only ones in the log and it was an absolute blast. As the rest of our group reunited with us, we wandered slowly out of the park. The crowds were gone, and we were among the last people there. Seth and I stopped to snap a picture before we left that day. It was really wonderful. We were beyond exhausted. Everything hurt, but we felt more refreshed than we had in months. Because on this day, we were the kids. We were carefree. We played, laughed and enjoyed until we collapsed completely spent into bed at 1am.

I could simply talk about moments that made 2017 wonderful and talk solely about my new neighborhood. I still can't believe how lucky we were to have found the house we did. Early in year on a spring-like day,  I looked outside and we had 9 kids playing in our backyard. At our previous house we never felt the sense of belonging like we do here. My heart just leaped when I realized that I would be watching all of these children grow up together. That Matilda and Roshi, as cute little 2-year-olds, could potentially grow up and get caught sneaking out of the house together. That Millie and Grant would stay close friends forever, and maybe some day date and fall in love. What a great love story that would be. We are so lucky to have a place like this to call home. Where our doorbell rings at 7:30am with kids wanting to play. Where we walk outside to leave for work on a snowy day, only to find that our neighbors have brushed off our cars and shoveled our driveway. Where we meet together for a wonderful breakfast on the morning on Pioneer Day. Where every day in the summer, when I get home from work, there are at least 5-7 kids playing in the circle.Where we get together before trick-or-treating to share pizza, the kids run around and play, and the adults have a shot of whiskey. Where we meet for holiday parties and birthdays. It's SUCH a dream. We are lucky.

On June 11th, David's birthday, we went as a family up Millcreek Canyon, to spread his ashes as he wished. We had a barbecue and fire. We ate rueben sandwiches and talked about some of our memories of this wonderful man. We each had a bag of his ashes that we then took and spread throughout the area. When I run down Millcreek canyon I always blow a kiss and say hello to David as I run by the area he is. I'll never see the canyon the same way.

In July we decided to go on a quick family vacation to Boise and McCall. Seth and I will always love Boise. It will always be an incredibly special place for us. And not-surprisingly, the girls loved it as well. On this particular day, we went to have lunch in Hyde-park. In the neighborhood where Seth and I lived when we were first married. We walked down 13th street, went in our favorite toy-store. Got some ice-cream at our favorite ice-cream/candy shop. And we ate lunch in a restaurant along the street. We watched the world go by through the giant open window we were seated next to. It was a balmy summer day. The girls were happy and we were in our happy place. Perfect.

Before we knew it, it was school time and our little Millie was off to Kindergarten. There were no tears, from any of us. Millie was excited and ready to start this new phase of her life. That morning as we gathered at the school, the energy was palpable. Kids were crying and clinging to parents. Kids were screaming and hugging, happy to be reunited with friends after the long summer. Parents were wiping tears as they bid goodbye to their 5-year-olds. Then the bell rang, and with her cousin Harvey, Millie happily waved goodbye and ventured into school. And away from us. To this day, Millie excitedly hops out of the car and happily says, "Bye mom! Love you" and runs to see her friends.

This autumn was one of the most spectacular I have ever seen. It was absolutely stunning. The colors were vibrant, the weather was perfection and it actually lasted longer than usual. I'm a lover of fall, so I spend as much time driving and hiking in the canyons as I can. This particular day it was just me and my little peanut butter. We wandered, collected leaves and of course took pictures. She's a fall girl just like her momma.

It's been a dream of mine to throw a really big Halloween party for kids. Since I have such a perfect home to host such a party, I decided this was the year. The Saturday before Halloween was the plan. I wasn't sure how many people to expect. But we ended up with over 50 there. The kids were in costumes and ran happily through our leaf-covered backyard. We played bingo, we wrapped the daddies as mummies. We had a dance party, ate doughnuts tied to string, had pumpkin bowling and pin-the-spider on the web. The weather was perfect the the kids had a blast. But I think I had the most fun of all.

Zion National Park is one of my happy places. In November we went on a family vacation to St. George with all of the Youkstetters. For a day we went into Zion and hiked. The girls were happy. It was stunningly beautiful. I forget how much nature heals.

Christmas was full of activities. It's hard to articulate how magical that time of year is with young children. This night was great at This Is the Place park. It was a warm winter night. We wandered up and down the street and it felt magical. We are at a great place with our kids. They play together, they are easy to take places now. We don't have to rush home to put them to bed. It's just a really sweet spot we are in.

I think that's what struck me about 2017. I really felt like I began feeling less stressed and exhausted as a mother and really began to love it. Watching my two girls play together makes me realize that life is going to be ok. No matter how hard things feel. No matter how much hurt and disappointment is there, life is still wonderful. Because life is full of love and wonder. It's full of magic.