Which One Is Really My Life?

My life looks better in pictures, I've decided.

It looks like I have my act together.

It looks like my children are carefree and content.

It looks like I create happy, meaningful experiences for my family.

It looks like my children cherish one another.

In pictures it looks like all of those other blogs. All those scrapbooks. All those Christmas Letters. It almost looks like a Mormon commercial.

Do You Want To Marry Someone Just Like You?

One time, a long time ago, someone asked me who I wanted to marry.  I described the perfect somebody. 

 

Then he said, "Do you want to marry someone just like you?"

 

I considered on it and decided, yes, someone exactly like me would do just fine.

 

Well,  in a lot of ways, that's what Dallin and I signed up for. 

 

Both so passionate and intense and loud.  Both too serious and desperate for righteousness.  Strong, determined, stubborn, and excessive.  Both inconsistent and maybe insecure. 

 

I was once in a group of women who are a lot like me.  They were the strong women, gregarious, leader-types.  One by one it came out that they each were so grateful for a husband who was calm and gentle, steady and slow.  One by one they said how well their husband, very different from themselves, balanced them and their home.  I was the only fireball among us that had married another fireball.  It was a troubling moment of realization for me.

 

Dallin and I don't balance each other.  We're both on the same side of the see-saw.  It's hard sitting on the dirt on the down end of the see-saw, but at least we're there together. 

What's A Recession?

"It's a recession when your neighbor loses his job.
It's a depression when you lose yours." (Harry S. Truman)

Well, we are in a depression now.

How Could This Possibly Foster Family Unity?

"If you can't speak nicely then don't talk to each other at all."

"I said, 'Don't talk to each other!' "

How Many More Days Until I'm 6?

Last year, it was about May when Chas started wondering about his next birthday. For 11 months he was sure it was "coming soon."

This year he made it exactly 41 waking minutes before he said, "I'm almost 6. Just one more year."

How Can I Give My Kids An Over-Inflated Image of Me?

My Mother's response to my posting about her was,

"Honey, I love you, but you have an over-inflated image of your mother."

How can I give that to my kids?

Did I Miss Anything?

When I woke up Chas this morning to carry him downstairs for breakfast-in-bed with his Daddy on their birthday, he said,

"Did I sleep late? Did I miss anything?"

Did you miss anything? Are you kidding? You are the anything of today. You are the everything.

Answer #3 -- I am so very glad to have you both.

Why Can't I Turn Into My Mother Like Everyone Else?

I have the grey hair.

I lose my keys.

I sound like her on the phone.

And I have a big smile.

I worry about my weight.

I wear only one type of outfit (hers is pullover dresses, mine is jeans and t-shirt.)

I like to read.

And I like everybody. Even "characters."

But I don't laugh at tense situations.

I don't know what to do when my children melt down.

I don't control my words.

I don't look on the bright side like she does.

I don't keep at it until I fix it.

I don't think I can figure it out myself.

I don't see the real-life applications of scripture stories.

My kids don't know I adore them the way I knew my mother adored me.

Why can't I turn into my mother?

Everyone else turns into their mother.

If I can't turn into her, why I can't I at least be the woman she thinks I am?

Is There Anything Better Than Wearing Your Underwear On Top?

Do You Throw Socks Like This Away?

Me: Do you throw socks like this away?

Colleen: Are you kidding? I wait until there's an actual hole.

Me: Me too.

Colleen: And then I feel guilty that I don't know how to darn socks so that I can fix them.

Now this is a Kindred Spirit.

Am I Glad We Are Doing This?

The Resistance

The Charts

The Bribes

The Tears

The Drive

What Could Be Worse For A Body Than Charred Inflated Sugar?

That fire is made completely of our garbage.

Why Do They Want To Eat EVERY Day?

I don't remember eating so often.
Or being fed so often.
Did my mom make dinner EVERY night?

I think it will be cold cereal tonight.

Only because we already had hot dogs for lunch, so I can't do that again.

Why Don't I Live In Utah?

• A babysitter who adores my children. Even when they're awful. (And she's free.)
• Chicken or Hamburgers on Sunday evenings that I didn't cook.
• "One more hand around," at 11:00.
• And Ten No-Trump without the Joker.
• A second opinion in my decorating.
• A shopping buddy who says, "Let's take it home and think it over there."
• Piano performances full of motivating praise for my children.
• Golf pals for my husband.
• A mortgage 1/4 the size of ours.
• Big Chas for Little Chas.
• Aunt Nicole for my girls.
• My Big Brother.
• A break for a moment.
• A date every now and then.
• The headquarters of our greatest (only) fan club.

What are we thinking?

Answer # 2 -- I Know He Lives.

Mary stood without at the sepulchre weeping: and as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre, and seeth two angels in white sitting, the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. And when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, Tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master. (John 20)


(He Is Not Here, by Walter Rane)

Why seek ye the living among the dead?
He is not here, but is risen. (Luke 24)



(The Disciples Peter and John Running to the Sepulchre, by Dan Burr)

I know He lives. And it sustains me.

How Much Longer Are They Going To Buy It?

Chas: Is the Easter Bunny a real bunny?

Me: Umm, I don't know.

Chas: Well, how does he carry the eggs?

Dallin: He doesn't carry them, he lays them.

Chas: Oh.

--------------------------------------------------

Naomi: Look the Easter Bunny wrote us a note. He knew our cousins were coming.

--------------------------------------------------

Eliza: I don't think the Bunny left me a chocolate bunny.

Naomi: He left one for everyone else.

Me: I'm sure he left one for you, too.

Eliza: Oh, I found it behind the guitar case. He must know I like playing the guitar.

---------------------------------------------------

Naomi: Who invented Easter?

Me: Reminder of the real reason of Easter, the Resurrection, etc.

Naomi: But, who came up with the idea of the Bunny?

Me: I don't know.

Naomi: Hmmm... It must have been the Bunny's idea.

Has Anyone Seen Chas?

Oh.

Oh dear!

I left him in time-out on the stairs.

(Again.)

Did Longfellow Have Children?

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

---Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Is The Only Difference Between My Life And A Chick Flick...

...A Good Soundtrack?

The coolest music I've heard this week was when Dallin was setting my cell phone's ring tone to The Entertainer. (Depeche Mode was a close second.)

Last week I heard cool music too. It was Matt and Jenny's wedding CD. It's the only cool music we have. We lost the CD once, and went without any cool music for about a year and a half. Then I asked Matt to burn us another one. Now we're hip and happenin' again. I think.

Other than that cool music, we listen to Suzuki, Beethoven's Wig ("..it's very big. It's long and curly and it's white..." see if you can get it to fit to the tune of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony), and CBC talk radio.

I often watch Chick Flicks and think, hmmm... I've got handsome person who loves me, misunderstandings to carry the plot along, kids to drive me crazy, beautiful house, in-laws to laugh at (on both sides), and a minivan. Then the only difference between their life and mine is 50 lbs., a great haircut, and a really good soundtrack. I'm going the wrong direction right now to think about the lbs. The haircut will hopefully come this week. But the soundtrack may be hopeless.

Note picture of our whole house, surround sound, fully automated, high-tech, super-duper, thermo-nuclear stereo system (i.e. boom box for $34 from Future Shop now hiding behind plant on the floor next to the piano.)

I think my life might be as romantic and touching and tragic and happily-ever-after as a good movie with a sound editor on the job.

Why Haven't I Done That Yet?

...because it's not the last minute yet.

Why Do I Do That?

Now that's the question.

Answer #1--Family Home Evening Definitely Goes Better...

...When The Kids Are In Charge Of Their Own Part.

I know it says it in all the manuals. I just never really tried it.

We're now on Week 2 of kid conducting, kid giving lesson, kid inventing/choosing game. (I'll be in charge of the treat, which means it will always be something I don't have to make.)

After 328 Family Home Evenings, 209 of which I wanted to strangle my kids (or my husband), and every time asked myself if this counted toward building family unity, we have now had two very beautiful, somewhat inspirational, mostly cooperative Family Nights.

Yeah for us!

175 ÷ 83 = ?

After 2 days and 8 hours of General Conference, I have 83 things to work on. Insights specific to me. Surprise, surprise, many of them are questions. Things like,

What can I sacrifice?
When I go to the temple am I worshipping or rushing?
What do I focus on consistently? ("We get what we focus on consistently")
What can I learn from my parents before they die?
Am I using my spiritual gifts to navigate toward the blessings of eternity?

But some are just reminders of the same old holes in my life:

Make my prayers full of thanksgiving like President Benson.
Laugh to smooth out life's bumps.
Take inventory of the sacredness of my home.
Make my prayer time "sweet."
Be of one heart and one mind in my marriage.
Be careful not to criticize my children.
Be a student of the scriptures.

Well, there are 83 of them. And there are 175 days until next conference. That gives me about two days to work on each one.

I think that might be within my attention span. So, I've written them on index cards and I'll be diligently shuffling through them until October (I hope.) At least I hope I make it through the first 20. I'll put the most important ones first, in case I run out of steam.


(Dallin was our AV Guy, and successfully got us through all the feed blips with three computers, two speakers and a dozen snaking cords.)

(The Conference Candy game was mostly a success, but I think my children ate more sugar than they do on Halloween.)

(My children reverently listening to the last prayer on Saturday afternoon.)

Is It Too Late In The Season To Prune Grapes?

And does Naomi know how to call 911 if I fall through the trellis onto the patio 12 feet below?

Why Am I Blogging? (Part III)

"The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul. No matter our talents, education, backgrounds, or abilities, we each have an inherent wish to create something that did not exist before.

"Everyone can create. You don’t need money, position, or influence in order to create something of substance or beauty.

"Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty—and I am not talking about the process of cleaning the rooms of your teenage children.

"You might say, 'I’m not the creative type. When I sing, I’m always half a tone above or below the note. I cannot draw a line without a ruler. And the only practical use for my homemade bread is as a paperweight or as a doorstop.'

"If that is how you feel, think again, and remember that you are spirit daughters of the most creative Being in the universe. Isn’t it remarkable to think that your very spirits are fashioned by an endlessly creative and eternally compassionate God? Think about it—your spirit body is a masterpiece, created with a beauty, function, and capacity beyond imagination.

"But to what end were we created? We were created with the express purpose and potential of experiencing a fulness of joy. Our birthright—and the purpose of our great voyage on this earth—is to seek and experience eternal happiness. One of the ways we find this is by creating things.

"If you are a mother, you participate with God in His work of creation—not only by providing physical bodies for your children but also by teaching and nurturing them. If you are not a mother now, the creative talents you develop will prepare you for that day, in this life or the next.

"You may think you don’t have talents, but that is a false assumption, for we all have talents and gifts, every one of us. The bounds of creativity extend far beyond the limits of a canvas or a sheet of paper and do not require a brush, a pen, or the keys of a piano. Creation means bringing into existence something that did not exist before—colorful gardens, harmonious homes, family memories, flowing laughter.

"What you create doesn’t have to be perfect. So what if the eggs are greasy or the toast is burned? Don’t let fear of failure discourage you. Don’t let the voice of critics paralyze you—whether that voice comes from the outside or the inside.

"If you still feel incapable of creating, start small. Try to see how many smiles you can create, write a letter of appreciation, learn a new skill, identify a space and beautify it.

"Nearly a century and a half ago, President Brigham Young spoke to the Saints of his day. 'There is a great work for the Saints to do,' he said. 'Progress, and improve upon and make beautiful everything around you. Cultivate the earth, and cultivate your minds. Build cities, adorn your habitations, make gardens, orchards, and vineyards, and render the earth so pleasant that when you look upon your labors you may do so with pleasure, and that angels may delight to come and visit your beautiful locations. In the mean time continually seek to adorn your minds with all the graces of the Spirit of Christ.'

"The more you trust and rely upon the Spirit, the greater your capacity to create. That is your opportunity in this life and your destiny in the life to come. Sisters, trust and rely on the Spirit. As you take the normal opportunities of your daily life and create something of beauty and helpfulness, you improve not only the world around you but also the world within you."

(Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Happiness, Your Heritage)

http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-947-37,00.html

Is It Twins?

Shucks. One for the price of one.

Are There Answers?

This Comment was stolen from my cousin's blog, because I couldn't figure out how to find her to ask permission:

Nicola said... [about my cousin]
I love the way that you put things, especially the questions that you have. Honestly I think life would be boring if nobody ever asked questions. Because without questions and choices we could never truly grow.

Questions and Choices. Not Questions and Answers.
Maybe that is the Answer?

What Is Always On The Back Of Your Mind?

http://thepatienceofjod.blogspot.com/2009/04/hmm.html

See yesterday's post for my ubiquitous question.

Is It All Going To Be OK In The End?

The only question that matters.
Everyone reassures.
They don't know either.

What is OK?
When is The End?

It plagues me.
I ignore it.
I despair.
I hope, sometimes.
I wait.

What else can I do?
Is it all enough?
Am I missing the boat?

Where's the barometer?
The news bulletin?
The sound byte?
The bar graph?

The end is so far.
The methods so vague.
The results so crucial.

What's A Roll?

Naomi read in her cousin's blog: "Two Dozen Homemade Rolls."

"What's a roll?" she said.

What's a roll?

It's a bun.

"Oh."

She's completely Canadian now.

Did You Know That When You Said, "I Love You"...

...That It Was The First Kind Thing Anybody Has Said To Me Since We Went Swimming?

Today was a day all about kids. We went swimming. We worked together in the woods making paths. We had our closest friends visiting from out of town. Kids tracked mud and jumped on the trampoline and swung on the swings. They had no chores, no piano practice, no putting away their own messes. They had stories and treats and made lemonade.

But somehow--it's always mysterious to me--it all fell apart. An unknown spark sets off a lasting flame.

It burned until bedtime. And in a bed of tears, she said that no one had been nice to her all day. I reminded her of all the fun they had had. Well then, at least since swimming (three hours ago) nothing good had happened.

I sometimes wonder if the fun stuff makes the fire more likely, or does it just make me madder when it ignites?