Where's Katara?

And why did we leave her all alone for 11 days?

And can I really put up posters again?!!

What's Her Battle? What's His Battle?

He'd been under general anesthesia that day. He'd been in the car for four hours. The numbing cream on his hand hadn't worked. The IV hadn't gone in the first time or the second. But none of the other moms knew that as he squirmed and complained in his piano class. They glanced over their shoulders at me and I resented their children's private-school frocks and ties.

This quiet crying and sidelong glares IS holding it together for her. We're pleased with this response because it's so controlled compared to what it could be and what it has been. Please don't stare.

When you asked how I was at the checkout counter, did you really want to know? I left my three year old screaming from his hospital bed a few minutes ago. His cerebral fluid is leaking and it is excruciating. My daughters are lost without their parents. I am scared. But you don't really want to know that. And that's OK. Just please understand when I'm not friendly.

You got out of your car to yell at me. I'm not even sure what I did wrong. You used words that aren't allowed in PG-13 movies.

Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. (Plato)

When I am tempted to criticize, please let me remember that I can't see their battle.

When I am tempted to idolize her life and children and marriage, please let me remember that I can't see her battles either.

"Is That Baby Mark?"

Does Baby Mark like this song?

Does Baby Mark like hockey?

Is Baby Mark sleeping?

Does Baby Mark like football?

Does Baby Mark like this movie?

Is Baby Mark hungry?

Does Baby Mark drink milk out of your arm?

Can Baby Mark drink milk out of the owie on my ankle?

Will You Still Know I Love You...

...If I Don't Buy You a Christmas Present This Year?

I think I'm going to take a Sabbatical this year.

If it's "not about the presents" why does it feel so all about the presents?

do you ever have days

where you realize that you're not as good a friend as you thought you were?

when pondering upon this, do you ever realize that your parenting is poopy and your marriage is not a romantic comedy after all?

and sometimes these days coincide with the days that you realize that you can't keep your house the love filled temple we are all striving for.

and every now and then these days happen at the same time that you are fatter than everyone else at the PAC meeting.

they often seem to be near to the days where you clean all day and still end the day in a disaster zone.

it is not a good idea to check out other people's blogs on these days. their children will look beautiful and be well-behaved in all the photos you see. and their houses will look charming and finished too.

It's like Satan got all his guns lined up in perfect sync. I think I'll crawl under the bed. Let me know when he goes away.

What's Your Address?

If you did not get a Christmas Letter
you either live within 100 km
or we don't have your address.

Brooks Family Christmas Limerick

Christmas letters are so out of style,
I thought Limericks were worth a trial,
A stanza per member,
The Brooks to remember
Hope you think reading it worthwhile.

Mark Daniel Peter Brooks was born
With Dad gone hunting sheep (thin horn)
Mom in the bathtub
Nana instead of hub
August 7th he came in the morn.

Chas Frederick Lance Brooks and tumour
Maintains his sense of humour
Second time’s the charm
His surgery no harm
What a great year for our big bloomer.

Eliza Grace Laurel Brooks saw a slug
Ran to mom for a comforting hug
They belong in the city
These two are so ditty
Asking Daddy to kill every bug

Naomi Florence Katelyn Brooks scored
When she caught the ball off the backboard
Cross country she ran
With her energy she can
She always is talking and never is bored

Sariah Stock Brooks is painting her home
If it takes more than a day, well, so did Rome
A journal backlog
She started to blog
Painting’s unfinished for her to bemoan.

Dallin Lance Brooks and his bro shot a sheep
His job in Finland he’s trying to keep
Doing a PhD
Again in Forestry
Works on our basement to finish it cheap.

That is our story for this last year
A happy one we hope it appears
Pictures here thanks to mom
365000wordsayear.blogspot.com
We hope the Olympics will bring you here.

A limerick doesn’t really lend itself to expressing our more reverent thoughts. So we add a postscript here to tell the people we love so much about the Saviour we love so much. We believe that Jesus really came to earth and really is the Son of God. We believe that His teachings change our lives and our natures. And that we know that He provides the way to be with our most cherished people (you) forever. We are grateful for an annual excuse to share that with you and to celebrate His life. We send you our wishes for a happy Christmas and a year filled with hope and love and happiness.

Love, the Brooks Family

Who Reads This Blog, Anyway?

I'm just curious, and I'm not smart enough to figure out the IP info on StatCounter.

Answer 14--God Answers Children's Prayers Quickly

and then as we grow, He stretches the distance between prayer and answer.

It's an exercise program for our spirits. It starts with one lap and slowly adds a lap here and there until we have great endurance, strong faith, and a bit of patience.

At 5, with a panicked heart, I prayed in a rack of clothes at the department store that I would find my mother. Immediately, she called my name in the way only she does, with the I long and a soft Y in the third syllable.

At 7, when pulling and lotion and my mother did not extricate me and I was still hanging by my entrapped knee from my bunk bed. I prayed. And it simply slipped out.

At 11, I prayed for a friend, and I prayed a second time, and possibly a third time before Melissa Mitchell came along and we worked out a Paula Abdul dance for the school talent show together.

At 17, I had to study it out in my mind. I had to weigh the many college and scholarship decisions that lay scattered across my bed in glossy brochures of smiling undergrads. I had to sense a direction and ponder it and confirm it with the Lord.


Naomi, this week, decided to add fasting to her ongoing prayers "for a friend at school." The waiting period for a trusting 9 year old these days is about 48 hours. And the answers are as clear as glass, so she will have no chance of missing the connection.

Tuesday, through a misunderstanding in gym class, she found herself in the locker room amidst, "Nobody likes you," "You're so mean," and whispers that included her name.

Her one "hopeful" for a friend offered, "I'm sorry about all this," and walked out. But another girl, not even a playmate of hers, stayed.

Then, to make it clearer she said, "You're my friend." 4th graders don't generally talk this way, but Heavenly Father makes the connection very clear for newbies. And so, she said a second time, "You're my friend."

And they sat on the top of the monkey bar dome and planned their school talent show duet. And they ate lunch together. And they had a playdate.

And Naomi sees the Lord's hand in her life.


I see the Lord's hand in my life. But it is slower to see than it used to be. I search more and wait longer.

My muscles are growing.

Where's My Watch?

And the car keys?
And my purse the size of Connecticut? (It seems it would be impossible to misplace.)
What did I do with the grocery list I just finished writing?
Has anyone seen my cell phone? (Can't call it, of course, because it hasn't been charged in days.)

Why can't I get my act together?
When am I going to learn?


I asked Dallin if he would still love me when I was old and had Alzheimer's. He said he was sure adding old age wouldn't change anything, since he loved me with Alzheimer's already.

"Mom, Are We Christian or Mormon?

Janie asked me and I didn't know."

Shoot! I wish we'd had this family home evening lesson a week sooner.


Mormons are Christians.

Mormons believe in Christ.

I believe in Christ.

I am a Christian.

What Do You Mean Worrying Doesn't Help?

90% of the things I worry about never happen.

Where is He?

there were

thirty-one snowmen
four fire trucks
one mayor
one member of parliament
two bubble machines
one gigantic christmas tree
forty-four air cadets
three marching bands
one scottish dance troupe
an inflatable santa on a motorcycle
a couple of rock bands
one scout troop
a 4-H team
four girl guide groups
and handfuls of mini candy canes

and just when I had lost all hope,

there was one simply robed woman
sitting calmly on a donkey
led by a quiet man

and I thought
that maybe
all is not lost