Family Search's #52Stories Project

Family Search, the LDS Church's family history website, has created a fun  project for 2017 that I am going to participate in. The project is called #52Stories and they introduced it in an article titled "Define Your Dash". Angie Lucas, the article's author, said that the dash in between our birth date and our death date represents our life. Only those who know us well will know what is in each of our "dashes", unless we record our lives for our posterity.

Writing our life's story in one sitting is a little daunting, and quite frankly, impossible. So Family Search came up with #52Stories. Family Search is encouraging us to write down one story from our life once a week for this year. At the end of 2017 we'll have 52 stories from our lives! Whether we write, type, share or keep it private, it doesn't matter.

To help give ideas about what stories to share, Family Search has a list of 144 questions. They also post one of those questions each Saturday on their facebook and Instagram page.

I created a new category on my blog: #52Stories, where I will be sharing stories from my life based on the weekly question from Family Search! I'm really excited about this because I've been feeling a little "writer's block" the past couple months, so I'm looking forward to some ideas on what to write about.

For January 7th the questions was: What goals do you hope to achieve this year? I already wrote my goals - or resolutions down - at the beginning of the year: My Resolutions for 2017.

For January 14th the questions was: What is something you taught yourself to do without help from anyone else? To read the story for that one, stay tuned! Also, if you plan on participating in this project, and you want to share your stories as well, please let me know so I can look for them, because I would love to read your stories too!

Goodbye, Tiger

On  January 10, 2017 my 18 year old cat, Tiger, passed away. He gave us a huge scare back in May 2016 and almost died then. After that, I had a feeling this would be his last winter. We've known for a while now that Tiger was reaching the end of his life. He lives at my parents' house, but he is my cat. My mom has been giving me updates ever since our scare in May. Updates included when his eating habits decreased, when he would cough up blood, and his breathing sounded weird. But all of those were temporary, so we thought he would keep hanging on and pushing through.

On Sunday, January 8, my mom told me that Tiger had not eaten food in three weeks. They didn't want to ruin my holidays, so they waited to tell me until after. Then everyone in my family got sick, and my mom didn't want to add the stress of Tiger on top of that. He was drinking his water, but not eating his food. My mom and brother told me that the past couple of days he had stayed inside of his bed laying down, and not doing anything except for breathing - and an ear twitch if they touched him. I asked them to please give me updates at least twice a day: in the morning when they wake up, and at night before they went to bed.

On Monday, January 9, my mom texted me that she had a fever of over 101 and she would not be going to work the next day. After I read that text I felt an impression in my heart that she had a fever so that she could be home when Tiger left us and we could spend the day preparing him and his things to say goodbye.

A little after Noon on Tuesday January 10, my brother Michael called me. I said, "Hello?" I heard Michael breathe, but no words were said. I asked, "Is he gone?" Michael said, "All signs point to yes." I started crying and said, "I'm coming over right now." I started throwing whatever I could think of into the diaper bag: extra clothes, diapers, sippy cups, the baby monitors, and my laptop. I threw shoes and coats on my kids and we left.

As I was going through this frenzy I was crying, and it upset Benjamin and Luna. I tried to explain as best I could, "Benjamin, Tiger died this morning. That means his body is here, but his spirit is not. He is with Heavenly Father right now."  Benjamin asked, "Tiger is at his friends house?" "No," and I repeated myself. "Tiger is happy?" More tears. "Yes."

When we got to the house, Michael helped me get Benjamin and Luna inside. I asked Michael where Tiger was, and he pointed to Tiger's house in our backyard (he has a big dog house equipped with a bed, food and water bowls, and a heater during the winter). I was halfway there, when I spun around and fell into Michael's arms and cried my eyes out. I really cried. I can't remember the last time I cried like that. I couldn't control my voice, my screams, my body. I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. At one point I felt new arms wrap themselves around me and heard my mom say in a choked up voice, "Oh Chelsey, I'm so sorry."

After what felt like an hour, but was only a few minutes, I wiped my tears and went out to the backyard. Michael came with me and my mom kept Benjamin and Luna inside. When I saw Tiger the tears came back, and I fell on the ground and started bawling and screaming again. I sat there on my knees, hunched over his bed, and petted him while I cried. Michael cried with me. I told Michael that the night before I had wanted to come see Tiger to say goodbye, but had been unable to, and now it was too late. Michael told me to not beat myself up over that, Tiger knew that I loved him.

When I was a bit more composed I asked Michael to tell me everything. He said that he had slept in until 11:00 and once he was up he went to check on Tiger. He said that the past couple days he had dreaded being the one to find Tiger dead, but that morning as he walked to the back door he felt calm and peace, he already knew. He could tell just by looking at him, but did a thorough check to make sure, and then he called me. I asked if he had an idea of when: was it during the night, or in the morning? He told me with the research he had done on rigor mortis that Tiger most likely died that morning, not during the night.

My mom had also researched that cats often will leave before they die, and so the fact that Tiger stayed nearby speaks to us that he loved us and wanted to be with us. Micheal also told me that up until the night before he died, Tiger's back was to the door of his house which faces our house. Tiger had turned himself around so that he was facing our house when he died.

We knew that different cities have different ordinances about burying pets in backyards, so we tried to find out what Provo's is. We could not find any information.  Every city employee that we talked to transferred us to someone else, no one knew a d*** thing. We ended up leaving a message for animal control, and hours later when they had not called back, my dad went to their office which is in the police station. It turns out that there is not official animal control office. It's simply a couple officers who are assigned to "animal control". And once again, the people at the police station could not answer our questions.

I wasn't fully on board with burying Tiger. It was simply one of my options. I was also considering cremation. The closest place to us is Pet Reflections in Pleasant Grove. I liked the information on their website, and so I called them to find out details and prices. After a lot of thought, tears, and talking to everyone: my mom, dad, Michael and Gerson, I decided to take Tiger to Pet Reflections, get his paw print in ceramic with his name, birth and death dates engraved; but I wasn't going to keep his ashes. I decided that I also wanted to keep his collar and food and water bowls.

This morning, January 11, Michael helped me take Tiger to Pet Reflections. We said a prayer before we left, which we both cried through. When we walked in, the lady asked how she could help us, and I just started crying. She invited me to sit down and asked if I would like some water. I asked for a tissue. I told her I was bringing my cat in. She filled out all of the forms for me for his paw print and the cremation. When all the details were written out, I took off his collar and handed the box he was in to her. She walked him into an other room, and I broke down, and started having second thoughts. I asked her to wait, that I wasn't sure if I could handle not coming back for his ashes. I asked her to give me some time to talk to my brother. She told me that lots of people change their minds and that I could have as much time as I needed to figure it out. She suggested that I go home and spend a good amount of time to figure it out and then call them and tell them what I decided. They would hold onto Tiger and not do anything until I called them. I remembered that I had not eaten breakfast yet and that would probably help me. I thanked her and left.

When back in the car I started crying again, and I had to wait a few minutes before I could drive. We got McDonald's and headed back to my apartment. The farther away I got from Pet Reflections, the clearer my mind became. Michael kindly reminded me of what I had said before we got there. I had said that if we buried him, I would look out in the backyard and it would feel weird to know his body was there, but not his spirit. And that if I kept his ashes, I would feel weird looking at the box they were in and know that was what was left of him. I had said that the paw print was the most important keepsake of him that I wanted. That was the piece of him that I could comfortably have in my home.

When we were done eating breakfast I called Pet Reflections and told them to go forward with the original instructions. They told me it would take a week to a week and a half before the paw print is ready for pick up. I am probably going to be super anxious and emotional while waiting for that phone call.

Michael stayed with me the rest of the day. We chatted, got lunch, and watched Fiddler on the Roof.

Looking back, I have two regrets about preparing to say goodbye to Tiger. 1. I didn't say goodbye to him while he was still alive on Monday night. I wish I would have forfeited the dishes or something to go to my parents' house. 2. My meltdown at Pet Reflections caused me to not say a proper goodbye to him before handing him off to the lady. As I type this I have no idea if he has been cremated yet or not. I will never know when exactly that happened. And it's probably for the best.

As I lamented about these regrets to Michael, he said, "Chelsey, no matter what you had done, you would not have felt that it was good enough. There is no perfect way to do this. But, Tiger knows that you love him."

That is what I have taken away from this experience. There is no perfect way to say goodbye. And it's  hard making such permanent decisions. It's not like in the movies where we stand as a family in perfect black clothing, say perfectly scripted expressions of love and memories, and shed perfect tears without smudging our makeup. I can't look back and say, "I could have done this. I should have done that." I take it for what it is. And you know what? I did say a beautiful goodbye yesterday. Yesterday I  was alone with Tiger for a minute and I got to  tell him what I wanted to. No, it wasn't right before he got taken away from me this morning. But how do you have a proper goodbye in a cramped room with a stranger watching?

How everything went down, what I decided, was the best for my situation. No, it wasn't picture perfect, but it was perfect for me. I'm not "over it" yet. I've cried off and on for the past two days. And I will probably have more moments in the days to come. But I have had a wonderful support system. My parents have called and texted me to check up on me. Michael hasn't left my side except at night. And Gerson bathed the kids and offered to clean up from dinner. I have received lots of love from friends and family over the past two days as well. All of that means a lot to me. Thank you to everyone.

I'm going to write a second post about Tiger's life and all of the memories that I can muster. I didn't want to throw those into this post because I want to spend some time remembering as much as I can. I can't end this eloquently, so I'm just going to say, I loved Tiger. I loved him with all of my heart.

My Resolutions for 2017

Last year I started publicly announcing my New Year's Resolutions to give me a higher incentive and accountability to work on them. Influenced by an Ensign article, I picked four categories to put my goals in: mental, physical, spiritual, and social.

Mental - Last year my mental goal was to work on my patience with Benjamin Gerson. I believe I have improved in that area, of course I'm not perfect and I'll continue to work on that, but I'm ready to add a new goal for this year.

At the end of last Summer and into the Fall, Gerson and I believe that I fell under a depression spell due to spending so much time inside as a SAHM. It comes and goes, and I have had some really bad moments. Over that past few months we have found things that make me happy and help me: my involvement in Mormon Women Stand, weekly dates (we used to go monthly), visiting teaching/being visit taught, getting to go out with my mom or by myself every once in a while. So my mental goal for this year is to try to pay attention when I'm feeling down and turn to what makes me happy. Ask my mom to go shopping with me, ask my brother to have lunch with me, take the kids to have lunch with my dad, ask Gerson for an extra date one week, etc. Last year I usually waited until I was at the end of my rope and then Gerson or my parents would have to come to my rescue. This year I'm going to try to ask for help before it gets that bad.

Physical - Last year my goal was to lose weight; specifically, to lose all of my pregnancy weight and fit into my pre-pregnancy clothes. I accomplished this goal about halfway through the year! This year my physical goal is to surpass the beginner versions of my workout videos and move onto the next level for each thing I do: my 10 minute ab videos, yoga, belly dancing, and Dance Central. I believe I can accomplish this for sure by the end of the year. In working to accomplish this I would also need to add a second physical goal: to consistently work out three days a week.

Spiritual - Last year my spiritual goal was to be on time to church on time every Sunday, and I failed miserably. I think we were on time maybe once a month. Granted we had church at 8:30 am last year. This year church is at 11:00 am, and I will continue this goal of improving our tardiness. I also want to improve my reading of religious literature. I started working on this last year, but this year it's an official goal. A couple years ago I got into the habit of reading one chapter in the scriptures and one article in the Ensign every morning. Last year I added other books to my religious reading: A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, and The Teachings of the Presidents that I haven't read yet. I want to continue that this year and I hope to read one new religious book per month.

Social - Last year my social goal was to attend all Relief Society functions. I did really well for the first half of the year, and my attendance dropped to 0% the second half of the year. I'm going to keep that goal for this year as well. I want to go to all of the Relief Society activities. I really enjoy that time away from home and getting to know the ladies in my ward.

I hope you all had a fun weekend bringing in the New Year with your family and/or friends! I would like to wish you a Happy New Year and send you good luck with your goals for the year!

"Teach the Children", A Christmas Story

Christmas time is full of beautiful decorations and music, service, giving, and fun family traditions. There are many stories that are meant to bring the Christmas spirit. Some are fun like Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, The Year Without a Santa Claus, etc. While others are more emotional like The Little Drummer Boy and It's A Wonderful Life. One of the spiritual Christmas stories that is my favorite is called "Teach the Children".

My great-grandma gave my mom a copy of the story along with props many years ago. The story along with the props are stored in a cute little Christmas bag and are placed among my mom's decorations each December. My brother and I spent year after year playing with those props each Christmas. When I was in Senior Primary, my mom was the Primary President. During one of those years she read that story to the Primary kids the Sunday before Christmas, and I fell in love with it.

I don't know who wrote it. There is no name on the copy my mom has. I searched online for an author, but the name I was able to find is coupled  with a version of the story that is different from my mom's copy. But because I love this story so much, I would like to share it here:

Just a week before Christmas I had a visitor. This is how it happened. I had just finished the household chores for the night and was preparing to go to bed when I heard a noise int he front of the house. I opened the door of the front room and to my surprise, Santa Claus himseslf stepped out from behind the Christmas tree. He placed his fingers over his mouth so I would not cry out.

"What are you doing..." I started to ask, but the words choked up in my throat as I saw he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly manner was gone -- gone was the eager, boisterous soul we all know.

He then answered me with a simple statement of "Teach the Children." I was puzzled. What did he mean? He anticipated my question and with one quick movement brought forth a miniature toy bag. As I stood there bewildered, Santa said again, "Teach the Children. Teach them the old meaning of Christmas -- the meanings that Christmas nowadays has forgotten."

I started to say, "How can I..." when Santa reached into the toy bag and pulled out a brilliant shiny star.

"Teach the children the star was the heavenly sign of promise long ages ago. God promised a savior for the world and the star is a sign of the fulfillment of that promise. The countless shining stars at night -- one for each man -- now show the burning hope of all mankind." Santa gently laid the star on the fireplace mantle and drew forth from the bag a glittering red Christmas tree ornament.

"Teach the children red is the first color of Christmas. It was first used by the faithful people to remind them of the blood which was shed for all the people by the Savior. Christ gave his life and shed His blood that every man might have God's gift of Eternal Life. Red is deep, intense, vivid -- it is the greatest color of all. It is  the symbol of the gift of God."

"Teach the Children," he said as he dislodged a small Christmas tree from the depths of the toy bag. He placed it before the mantle and gently hung the red ornament on it. The deep green of the fir tree was a perfect background for the ornament. There was the second color of Christmas.

"The pure green color of the stately fir tree remains green all year round," he said. "This depicts the everlasting hope of mankind. Green is youthful, hopeful, abundant color of nature. All the needles point heavenward -- symbols of man's returning thoughts toward heaven. The great green tree has been man's best friend. It has sheltered hi, warmed him, made beds for him. Suddenly, I heard a soft tinkling sound.

"Teach the children that as the lost sheep are found by the sound of the bell, it should ring for man to return to the fold --It means guidance and return. It further signifies that all are precious int he eyes of the Lord." As the soft sound of the bell faded into the night, Santa drew forth a candle. He placed it on the mantle and the soft glow from its tiny flame cast a glow about the darkened room. Odd shapes in shadows slowly danced and weaved upon the walls.

"Teach the Children," whispered Santa, "that the candle shows man's thanks for the star of long ago. Its small light is the mirror of starlight. At first, candles were placed on the trees -- they were like many glowing stars shining against the dark green. The colored light have now taken over in remembrance."

Santa turned the small Christmas tree lights on and picked up a gift from under the tree. He pointed to the large bow and said, "A bow is placed on a present to remind us of the spirit of the brotherhood of man. We should remember that the bow is tied as men should be tied, all of us together, with the bonds of good will toward each other. Good will forever is the message of the bow."

Santa slung his bag over his shoulder and began to reach for the candy can placed high on the tree. He unfastened it and reached out toward me with it.

"Teach the children that the candy cane represents the shepherd's crook. The crook on the staff helps bring back the strayed sheep to the flock. The candy cane represents the helping hand we should show at Christmas time. The candy can is the symbol that we are our brother's keepers."

As Santa looked about the room, a feeling of satisfaction shone on his face. He read wonderment in my eyes, and I am sure he sensed admiration for this night.

He reached into his bag and brought forth a wreath. He placed it on the door and said, "Please teach the children the wreath symbolizes the eternal nature of love; it never ceases, stops, or ends. It is one continual round of affection. The wreath does double duty. It  is made of many things and in many colors. It should remind us of all the things of Christmas. Please Teach the Children."

This story teaches us to keep Christ as the center of our Christmas - which I wrote about last week for Mormon Women Stand. Tonight we used the props from this story for Family Home Evening. Benjamin and Luna are not yet old enough to sit through me reading the story yet. But they sure enjoyed holding all of the props as I talked about them. This story will become a part of our family Christmas traditions.

How World War II Shaped My Family

Today, December 7, 2016, is the 75th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. This event brought the United States into WWII and changed many lives forever. Four lives that I know and love whose future was written by the events of WWII are two sets of my grandparents. My maternal great grandparents Elvin and Virginia Hegstrom, and my paternal grandparents John and Carol Larson. I would like to share their stories in honor of today.

Elvin was the son of Swedish immigrants. Both his mother and father immigrated to the United States as children. They met and married here. Both of their families left Sweden for America because they had converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Unlike today, back in the late 1800s and early 1900s, foreign LDS converts moved to Utah to be with the rest of the saints.

Elvin and Virginia were dating when war broke out. Elvin's mom asked Virginia to marry her son so that he would not sign up in the military. They were already in love, and at 19 and 17 years  old, Elvin and Virginia got married. But marriage didn't stop him. He tried to sign up for the Air Corps, but received a draft notice into the Army Infantry at the same time. He was told to fulfill his draft assignment.

He ended up in France where he got shot in the leg during battle. The other American soldiers near him thought he was dead and left him on the field. During WWII, not every soldier had a gun or helmet. Elvin did have a gun and a helmet. A soldier who did not have either tried to take Elvin's. Elvin grabbed a hold of that soldier and asked him to help him get medical help, and in return, Elvin promised that soldier his gun and helmet.

Elvin spent the rest of the war healing in a hospital back in the U.S. where Virginia joined him. Their first three babies, a boy and twin girls, did not survive their first year. Their fourth baby, an other girl, did survive. Her name is Linda and is my maternal grandmother.  They had two more daughters, Sandy and Loma, and one more son, Robert. Virginia was not a member when she married Elvin. She converted some time after their marriage, and my grandma Linda told me she was about 7 or 8 when they were sealed as a family. Grandpa Elvin spent the rest of his working life in a sugar factory in Nampa, Idaho, and as a farmer as well.

Linda married Kent Peterson and they had five children: Deborah, Darren, Deanna, Derek, and Devan. Deborah, you know her as Debbie, is my mom. Virginia, Linda, Debbie and I have taken lots of four generation photos throughout the years. Elvin was a loving and funny grandpa when he was alive. He loved to tease. He called most of his grandchildren "Jack". The leg Elvin was shot in was always skinnier than the other, and he walked with a limp for the rest of his life.

He was diagnosed with Alzheimer's during the final years of his life. When he passed away, he didn't know who most of us were. But not knowing who we were didn't stop him from being loving and kind. Even though he didn't remember us, he still treated us like family. He still hugged all of us and told us that he loved us. When I got married, my grandma Virginia was unsure of bringing Elvin into the temple because his Alzheimer's sometimes caused him to act out. I asked her to try, that I believed the Spirit would help him stay reverent. When it was time for everyone to hug and congratulate us, I thanked Grandpa Elvin or coming and he hugged me and patted me on the back and said, "Of course! I love you honey, I'm so proud of you."

Grandpa Elvin passed away in October 2012 when I was pregnant with Benjamin. Grandma Virginia is still alive and Benjamin and Luna are her great-great grandchildren! Their story is truly inspirational as they are wonderful examples of enduring to the end through the trials of war, losing children, and disease. I love them both so much, and I hope to live up to their examples.

John Larson was also the son of Swedish immigrants who came here because they converted to the LDS Church. They were incredibly poor, and so John chose the military over college; in fact, college wasn't even an option for him. John signed up for the Navy. After training and tests, the Navy sent John to the University of Michigan to study Naval Architecture rather than send him overseas to fight. John had an amazing math brain.

While studying Naval Architecture, John also ran track for Michigan. He lettered in 1945. When the war was over, John needed a different job. He got a job in education, and worked different education jobs until he retired. He was a building facilitator for the school district, a registrar at a junior high school, and eventually taught math. He married Carol Wisdom when he was 29 and she was 18. They had 12 children: Susie, Carl, Nancy, Selma, Glenn, Anna, Cynthia, John, Doug, Julie, Vickie, and Mark. Their fifth child, Glenn, is my dad.

My grandpa John used his architecture degree to design and build their family home in Los Angeles, California and St. George, Utah. My grandma Carol still lives in the St. George home. Because of being able to go to college, and later working in education, grandpa John instilled the importance of education into all of his children. Some of his children and grandchildren also chose to make their careers working in education. For my grandma and grandpa their children and grandchildren came first. They have never missed a wedding, baptism, baby blessing, game, or performance. They support us in all we do.

My grandpa John passed away in February 2015, when I was pregnant with Luna. His health had been poor for over 10 years when he died. I told him and my grandma that I was expecting an other child about a month and half before he died. That was the last time I saw and spoke to him before he passed away. I am so grateful to have shared such a special moment with him. His life teaches to value education and family.


Both of my grandfathers, though they lived different lives, were amazing husbands, fathers, and grandfathers. They loved and cared for their families very much. They serve as wonderful examples of hard work and love. I hope to be able to honor them by being a good mother and teacher.

Baby Led Weaning and "Mush"

Have you seen those "first kid, second kid" Luvs Diapers commercials? If you haven't, here's a link to get you started: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMhHzucl9lI. That's what raising Luna has felt like for me. I have done so many things differently with her than I did with Benjamin. That doesn't mean that I was a bad mom with Benjamin, I'm just a different mom with Luna. (My dad says that I need to be in their commercials. It would go like this: First kid, changes diaper on a perfectly sanitized changing pad. Second kid, changes diaper on the carpet.)

One of the things I have done differently is how I introduced solid foods. With Benjamin, when he turned 6 months old I started with Gerber cereal and 1st foods, went on to 2nd foods, 3rd foods, and Gerber Graduates. Benjamin was well over a year before he started eating adult food, and even then it was introduced very slowly.

With Luna I felt inspired to try Baby Led Weaning. For those who don't know, Baby Led Weaning is where you let your baby feed themselves with their hands, instead of pureed food (or as the author of the linked article calls it, "mush"). The thought behind this is that our babies will still get the needed nutrients from breast milk or formula; so while they are playing with their food they are learning how to chew and eventually they will swallow the food we put on their plate.

Most BLW advocates don't recommend mixing finger foods with "mush", but after talking with our family doctor I decided that was something I wanted to consider for Luna. So when Luna first turned 6 months she got Gerber baby cereal in the morning, pureed fruits or vegetables in the afternoon, and whatever we were having for dinner in the evening, and breast feeding in between times. As Luna got older the amount of finger foods increased and the amount of spoon-fed foods decreased. Shortly after she turned 1, she was done with any food that had to be spoon-fed to her. She wants to feed herself.

Luna will now eat anything. If it's an an adult's plate, she wants it! Maybe whenever I have my third kid I'll do BLW 100%. ;)

Why I'm Voting for Evan McMullin

On Wednesday October 5, 2016 I attended Evan McMullin's event at the Provo City Library. I have been following him since two days after he announced his candidacy. Evan is a breath of fresh air in this joke of a presidential race. The purpose of this post is not to go into the strategy details of how he could win - by a huge miracle I might add. I'm not going to quote that "lesser of two evils" quote. I'm not even going to tell you that you should vote for Evan, because that is your decision to make. I'm going to tell you why I am personally voting for Evan McMullin.

What would eventually lead me to choose McMullin over the other candidates started during the primaries. My choice during the primaries was John Kasich. I knew his chances were low but I still liked him best, and I was happy to support Ted Cruz when Kasich dropped out. But when Ted Cruz dropped out I felt unsure on what to think. Honestly, I simply could not believe that Donald Trump was the Republican nominee.

I went back and forth: Hilary Clinton or Donald Trump? I thought, well Hilary has experience. I might disagree on some fundamental things, but at least she knows what she is doing. Then when I heard Mike Pence speak at the RNC, I thought, Oh I can vote for Pence by voting for Trump. Pence is an actual conservative politician. Maybe with him and other real Republicans guiding Trump, a Trump presidency could be okay. But like with Hilary, there are fundamental issues that I can't stand behind.

I know a lot of people think that Trump haters don't want to vote for him because he's rude, obnoxious, and quite frankly, a complete lunatic. Yeah, he is all of those things, but so are practically every other politician out there - they are just better at hiding it. I'm not voting for Trump because I disagree with his immigration reform plan, his tax reform plan, and some of his ideas on religious freedom. I disagree with his actual policies, it's not just me disliking the person the media has painted.

I also cannot stand behind Hilary with her stance on abortion (a.k.a. "reproductive rights"). Nor her idea that psychologists and psychiatrists shouldn't be allowed to help transgenders learn to love, accept and stay comfortable with the person and body they were born  with (I promise I didn't make that up, it's on her campaign website). Obviously if someone chooses to take hormones and have surgeries, that's their choice. but not even give them and their doctors the option to choose? That doctors can only offer hormones and surgeries?  That's going too far. But this topic is for another conversation. I also don't agree with their tax plan.

As you can see. I actually researched both Hilary Clinton's and Donald Trump's campaigns. My decision has nothing to do with the media hype, and everything to do with their policies that I simply cannot support.

I decided to research the 3rd party candidates, and still found disappointment. Jill Stein and Gary Johnson are too liberal for my taste, and Darrel Castle is simply too weak, and his financial ideas are confusing and scary. At this point I planned on writing in Mitt Romney's name. Then Evan McMullin made the news. I decided to look into him, but I wasn't expecting anything. When I finished reading his campaign website evanmcmullin.com  I knew I was voting for him. (I also follow his facebook page.)

Evan's stance on immigration and abortion match mine exactly. He agrees the border needs to be secured, but he also knows deporting 11 million people is ridiculous. He would like to see Roe v. Wade overturned, but he also understands that the whether abortion is legal or not is one of many answers to this problem. In one of his earlier interviews he said most liberals and conservatives both want to see abortion numbers go down, we are simply head locked in the legal aspect of it. But if we asked and answered the question together, "How can we make abortion numbers go down?" and worked together on that, we would be more productive.

While he believes that marriage is between one man and one woman, Evan will not fight the Supreme Court on the recent decision about same-sex marriage. He is going to respect their decision. I know that's a hard pill for many conservatives to swallow, but I agree with him. I think it's a waste of time and money - precious money - to fight it. That doesn't mean that us individual conservatives stop teaching our children what is right, but I think the legal fight is over for now.

 He wants to lower and simplify taxes - though I haven't heard if he has a plan with actual numbers yet. His idea of liberty and freedom fits all races, religions, and classes. You see, when Republicans talk about freedom, they mean freedom for Christians. When Democrats talk about equality, they mean equality for the LGBT groups. Evan wants equality for all, true equality. In his address at the Provo Library he said, "With liberty for all, we will have different skin colors.  With liberty for all, we will have different religions."

A lot of people think that he is a spoiler, that he is handing the election to Hilary. But he's not doing this to be self-serving. He's not being malicious. In a recent interview as well as at the Provo Library event he said that he approached big name conservatives first. He wanted to create a campaign to back someone with name recognition. All of them declined. At this point his team asked him if he would step up, and he agreed. And now here we are.

I know it will take a HUGE miracle for him to win. I'm not so naive to think this will be an easy journey. But his campaign is more than just a bid for the White House. His campaign is creating a new conservative movement, a movement that could very well create a new conservative party. The Republican party is a sinking ship, and if Hilary Clinton wins - which she has a very good chance of doing so - I believe the Republican party will crumble. Conservatives who have already abandoned ship can create a new and better conservative party to rise in its place.

I also have to vote for who and what I believe in. I don't believe in Donald Trump or Hilary Clinton, and I don't believe in the parties they represent. I don't believe in being a strategy voter. I believe in voting my conscious, and my conscious says Evan McMullin.