Why Do We Spend $215/Year On A Membership To Science World?

Scientific enlightenment for our children, of course.

What's the Difference Between Boys and Girls?

5-year-old Brielle shows me her bouquet.

5-year-old Chas shows me his bouquet.

If I Bury A Question Way Back Here...

...Will Anyone Ever Find It?

What's the Difference Between the First Day of School and the Last?

First Day

They bathed in the brand-new tub and were tucked into their sleeping bags on the floor at a reasonable hour to be ready for the first day of school. The house had towers of boxes along every wall and we were all hopeful of a new school, new friends, and a somewhat-new life. Their hair was brushed and pony-tailed with bows. Their lunches included individually wrapped snacks from Costco. Their backpacks and sneakers were new and squeaky. And we were ready for a lovely stroll to the school by 7:56 am.

Last Day

They had a field trip to the spray park last week and it rained, so no bath necessary. They said they brushed their hair. There's no evidence to that fact, but I'm not going to fight it today. Eliza's backpack broke a month ago, but I certainly wasn't going to replace it that close to the end of the year. Creating their lunches with no bread, no snacks, no yogurts, and no juice boxes in the house was a trick. I am hopeful that their classes will have some sort of party that includes sustenance of some sort. We are finally ready to go after we hear the "first bell" ring in the distance at 8:25 am. Mario Andretti drives our minivan the 2 km to the school. And an exhausted mother drops off her children and sorrows that a whole year has slipped by again.

Why Does Every New Plan Eventually Die?

And why does "eventually" come so soon?



Another Chore Chart bites the dust.

We're on to piggy banks, tokens, and Mom's Store which is working brilliantly for two whole weeks now. (The greatest feature is the 1 token for every time they respond with, "I'd be happy to, Mom." Chas has mastered this better than anyone, and he ends up with a truckload of tokens at the end of each week.)

How Many Stitches Does It Take To Get A Day Off?

Apparently more than six.

And in a more necessary appendage than my pinky finger.

What Role Does Another's Forgiveness Play In Our Lives?

At General Conference in October, the newest apostle, Elder Andersen, said this: "To those who know me, if ever I have been less than I should have been in your presence, I ask for your forgiveness."

I've wondered over this for months now.

Our forgiveness of another is not dependent on their repentance or apology. "I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men." (Doctrine & Covenants 64:10) Our forgiveness of someone who has wronged us frees us and lightens our hearts.

Our own repentance brings the same blessings of freedom and joy.

But what does their forgiveness of us do? Surely their forgiveness of our wrong is not required for us to feel our own burden lifted when we repent.

But, perhaps, the natural consequence of true repentance is that our hearts turn to the happiness of others, and knowing that their ability to forgive us will bless their lives, we hope it for them.

Why Do I Always Leave My Blog Hanging After Downer Posts?

Sorry.

How Much Longer Will We Have A Full Moon?

Its been weeks of werewolves in kids' clothing. Aren't they supposed to revert to children when the moon wanes?

Shouting from top stair to bottom and from bottom stair to top. Shouting with tears.

And owies that are invisible and have not been mentioned for days, but now make it impossible to sleep. Owies that bring tears.

Tantrums over two measures of music. More tears.

Plastic cups, golf balls, and books ricocheting off heads. At least they all got a turn to cry.

Reminder medicine daily. Gagging. No tears.

Time outs every afternoon. No tears, maybe it's not working?

Miserable at the park, miserable at the party, miserable when there's a sub at school and they watch a movie. Tears all the way home.

I'm going to bed. I think I'll have a good cry and return when there's a total lunar eclipse. Apparently that's December 21, 2010.

Who Wants A Pet?

"I do!" (Naomi)
"I do!" (Eliza)
"I do!" (Chas)

Who will feed it every day?

"I will!" (Eliza)
"I will!" (Chas)

Who will clean up it's poo every day?

"I will." (Eliza)

They're dropping like flies.
I just needed one more question.

"Are You Sure This Was A Good Idea?"

(A woman at church)

"No. But I'm absolutely sure that it is too late to change my mind." (Me)

"Are They Going To Put Us In Jail?"

It's just a speeding ticket, but my five-year-old thinks the police officers are going to put us in jail.

When I was a kid "Officer Friendly" came to visit our school every year. I knew that a policeman was my friend. A person who could be trusted in a world of stranger danger. A man to be looked up to. A respected guardian of our safe way of life.

My children say (Monkey see. Monkey do.), "Watch out, Mom, there's a cop up there."

About four years ago I got a ticket for running a stop sign. Naomi asked with a colorless, panicked face whether the policeman was going to shoot us.

Somehow I think I'm not teaching this lesson very well.

Do You Know That I Think Of You?

1. Do you know that I miss you every time I blow dry my hair with that round blue brush you gave me 15 years ago?
2. Do you know that I picture us in the foyer of the church laughing when I hear the word phrenologist?
3. Do you know that I think of your lullaby voice when I sing to my kids at night?
4. Do you know that I think of you as I put on my makeup and realize that I haven't bought one piece of it without you there to help me?
5. Do you know that I think of you every time I make bread and wonder if it really is saving me money once you calculate the energy costs along with the ingredients cost?
6. Do you know that I think of you whenever I hear that someone is going to Europe? And also whenever I think of gross hotels?
7. Do you know that you represent New York to me?
8. Do you know that I think of you (and Miss Pearl) when I see my kids dance?
9. Do you know that I think of you constantly because my daughter has your name?
10. Do you know that I wish you were here when I need someone to tell me if I missed a spot curling the back of my hair?
11. Do you know that I think of you and smile when I fold socks, lose socks, store odd socks, and wonder about nearly holey socks? Also every Monday and Wednesday when I swim in the slowest lane at the pool?
12. Do you know that I remember you roughhousing with me on Grandma's ugly orange carpet when Dallin tickles my kids?
13. Do you know that you give me courage when I'm struggling with a child at the piano?
14. Do you know that I think of you when I go running and wish there were an ice cream parlor at the end?
15. Do you know that I wonder what you are up to when they sing "Search, Ponder and Pray" in Primary?
16. Do you know that I remember other lessons you taught me every time I empty the lint catcher in the dryer and on summer mornings when I shut all the windows?
17. Do you know that I think of happy parties at your house when we have to make another trip to the pool store?
18. Do you know that I admire you for a million reasons as my kids whine when I ask them to fetch something from the food storage room?
19. Do you know that I remember the day you bought me the pink Idaho T-shirt every time I do something nice for my nieces?
20. Do you know that I wish we were in touch when I try to think of the right word to use in something I'm writing?
21. Do you know that I feel grateful for you most Sundays because I can sing the alto line of the hymns?
22. Do you know that I long for the good old days whenever I need a cup of milk or two eggs?
23. Do you know that I admire you when I read terms in a cookbook that don't seem like English to me (maybe they're not)?
24. Do you know that I feel strengthened knowing that you feel sorrow too?
25. Do you know that I think how much I love you every time my stomach growls in public?

Do you know how very grateful I am to have you all in my life? Probably not, because I don't tell you very often.

I am so very grateful that you are part of my life. And I'm grateful to have trivial things that remind me of you in a real way so often.

Can you figure out which one is you? (1 Becky, 2 Heather, 3 Julie, 4 Jennifer H, 5 Shelley, 6 Amy, 7 Jennifer S, 8 Merinda, 9 Eliza, 10 Christine, 11 Colleen, 12 Fred, 13 Christina, 14 Katherine, 15 Jennie, 16 Grandma Barbara, 17 Melanie, 18 Ellen, 19 Mary Ann, 20 Karen, 21 Larissa, 22 Reena, 23 Shawna, 24 Jodi, 25 Dallin)

"How Do The Pictures Get Onto The Computer?"

"Do they roll up really small and go through the wire?" (Chas)

That's about my level of understanding of technology too. I wish technology wouldn't move on until I get simple things like radio waves and cassette players figured out. I'm getting left behind.

How Long Can I Sit Still?

The Silverdale Idol (school talent show) was originally scheduled to begin at 12:45. Then rescheduled for noon. Now it is beginning at 11:30.

This is to ensure that all 75 acts have time to perform before the buses come. I'm not sure I'm going to make it.

How much Elementary School Talent can a parent endure?

PS--It turned out to be only 36 acts (74 kids involved) and 2.5 hours. A book would have been a good idea, especially for the 19 teeny-bopper songs about somehow making it though without the love of their life who, in all cases it seems, had just left. The hockey demo game was original, and the skip rope numbers were impressive. I feel like a trooper for having endured it well.

Why Do So Many Things Have To Be Done EVERY Day To Be Effective?

Flossing
Studying Scriptures
Praying
Exercising
Practicing the Piano
Watering the Garden
Putting Lotion on my Dry Heels
Cleaning the Kitchen

I'm the kind of person who would like to pay my car insurance all at once even if it's huge. Would like to wait until the weeds are waist high so that it feels rewarding to get rid of them. And tends to gravitate toward other once-in-a-while sporadic projects.

I'm not so good with this daily endurance stuff. President Uchtdorf: "We don’t acquire eternal life in a sprint—this is a race of endurance." Apparently we don't acquire clean houses, healthy teeth or piano skills in sprints either.

Can I Be A Giraffe In My Next Life?

I learned at the zoo yesterday that Giraffes only sleep for 30 minutes a day. And they're tall and thin. And look nice when they run. I'll take an order of that, please.

Turns out male Lions, on the other hand, sleep 20 hours a day, while their harem of females goes out and hunts. And probably cooks and cleans too. No thanks.

What's My Favorite Sound?

Several months ago I read that Sister Hinckley said that her favorite sound was the sound of the screen door slamming. She said it was summer and children playing and family.

I thought that was so beautiful and I had an immediate wash of guilt because I am sure that I would not love the sound of a screen door slamming if I had a screen door to slam. The same way I don't love sand in my house and melted freezies stuck to the couch.

So, I've been thinking ever since about what my favorite sound is and what it says about me. For months the top ranking sound has been the kutookitookishoo of junk being sucked up into the vacuum. Especially the guilty liberating KACHANKITANKICHOO of sucking something up that I didn't want anymore anyway, like playmobile pieces, toy money, and hair elastics. What does this say about me?

Finally, though, I've realized that my actual favorite sound, although the vacuum is running a close race, is my children laughing. Especially with each other. That's the greatest sound in the world.

And by the way, one of my favorite sights in the world are "summer legs," complete with their black and blue patches, skin-missing knees and mosquito bite scabs torn off. I'll post a better picture if I can capture one in the coming months.

What Do I Say?

As mothers, when do we show our opinion and when do we "play it cool"?

For months Naomi has wanted to be part of a jump-rope team that practices at her school--The Thunder-Stompers. June is try-it-for-free month, so we went last week. She chose her cutest skipping outfit. She spent an hour looking for her best jump rope and finally found it. She had her water ready and her sneakers on in record time.

But then we arrived and I saw her searching for some deep dark hole to dive into. There were teenagers. There were kids who knew how to do super-cool tricks. She didn't know anyone except a 6 year old from Eliza's class.

I watched it all with the wisdom that 24 years distance brings. I saw how open and warm the kids on the team were. I saw how much fun they had together. I saw how Naomi's endless stamina would make this such an ideal fit for her. So would the fact that it is mostly an individual sport. I saw how the cooler kids and the chubbier kids and the younger kids and the less-coordinated kids were all included and encouraged.

And I thought of how helpful it would be to wear her out twice a week with skipping for two hours straight. And I thought of how our family of four would be able to juggle this additional activity so easily because it is two blocks away. And I thought of how many years I've been hopeful that she would have an interest to call her own. Anything that she feels good about doing.

And I saw Naomi desperately fighting to not be noticed, not stick out, not mess up. I saw how this decision will not come down to skipping for her at all, but to whether she can be brave in the face of a new situation with expectations she doesn't understand and a deep social pool that she'll need to swim in.

So, I desperately want Naomi to participate. I think she'd be great. I think she'd love it. And I don't know whether she'll be able to make the plunge.

Do I tell her how great I think the whole thing would be for her? She won't understand it all anyway. Or will knowing that her mother wants her to do it take just a little bit of the excitement out of it? Like finding out that my chocolate cake has zucchini in it.

My mother wisely didn't say much when I had creepy boyfriends. I'm sure if she had said what she really thought, I would've held on to them tighter.

Sometimes expressing our opinions to our kids can have an undesirable effect, I think. But which times are those?

A great song from the musical The Fantastiks:

Dog's got to bark, a mule's got to bray.
Soldiers must fight and preachers must pray.
And children, I guess, must get their own way
The minute that you say no.
Why did the kids pour jam on the cat?
Raspberry jam all over the cat?
Why should the kids do something like that,
When all that we said was no?
My son was once afraid to swim.
The water made him wince.
Until I said he mustn't swim:
S'been swimmin' ever since!
Why did the kids put beans in their ears?
No one can hear with beans in their ears.
After a while the reason appears.
They did it cause we said no.
Your daughter brings a young man in,
Says "Do you like him, Pa?"
Just say that he's a fool and then:
You've got a son-in-law!

Will You Check On Me Before You Go To Bed?

Naomi has asked this every night for about three years.

Sweetheart, I never miss and I never forget. This is the highlight of my day. It's the sacrament for parenting. It's the time when all is right with the world again. When there are no struggles and no interruptions. It's where I stand over you and marvel that you are mine. Regret the hurtful things I may have done through the day. Determine that tomorrow will be better. Adore your beautiful faces. And cherish your miraculous spirits. In these few moments I pray that you will remain steadfast and that you will find happiness. I beg the heavens that Grandma Barbara was right when she said that children are resilient. And I thank God for letting me have a chance with you.

Good Night.

Where's the Parable Of The Weed?

As I weeded for four hours yesterday I had a lot of time to ponder on this.

Why is there no parable of the weed? I wondered.

It would tell of an amazing creature that is impervious to insult, resistant to poison, and blooms despite constant criticism. It sends down deep roots and waits patiently for rain. It spreads itself far and wide and leaves a lasting record of itself when it is plucked out. It isn't picky about location and will often choose to intertwine itself with beautiful friends. Often it flowers with humble little blossoms and cheerfully produces more when those are picked for the kitchen table vase (unlike my tulips.) It doesn't complain of hardships (no sun and no water) the way my lettuce and tomatoes do. It blooms happily on despite being trampled and ignored. It makes the best of whatever comes its way.

Be ye therefore as the weed.

How Many Days Will I Walk Past These Empty Frames...

...Waiting For Me To Put Family Pictures In Them?

It's been 59 already.

Why Are You Still In There?

I was in the shower for a long time.

Chas came to find me.

Why was I still in there?

Because I had promised to play Power Rangers with him when I got out.

I'm so bad at this sort of thing. (click here for original post)

Will My Seeds Still Grow If I Didn't Water Them...

...For Their First Three Days of Life?

I'll let you know.

How Much Does An Air Conditioning System Cost?

Because I don't think I'm going to make it until August 10th.

Are You Giving Up Blogging?

A friend asked me this yesterday.

The truth is, I just realized that more than 2 people are actually reading this blog and now I'm completely intimidated to continue posting my nonsense and negativity, and insecurities and confusion online. That's what I get for coming up with a question theme.

But, I think I'm going to ignore all of you and forge ahead, because I think questions really do illustrate the insides of my brain and I would like a record of it years from now.

So please stop looking at it when you get bored or offended or weighed down by my weaknesses. I won't mind. I'll be relieved.