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

how do i bear another's burden?

especially when the burden is my spouse's? because those burdens are mine too.

like, when chas was in the hospital the first time. i had a picture of us meeting crisis like a hallmark card. or like an ensign article. or like...well, i don't know...like the music on jodi's blog. all full of rainbows and marriage to your best friend and everything gonna be all right. it was a photo down a long stark hallway of a couple embracing and strengthening each other. it had a hazy lens look.

but, we weren't the picturesque image i imagined we would be. we were real. we were still us. we still bickered. we both felt overwhelmed. we were both worried beyond description. thank heavens we had others to strengthen us. to help us bear those burdens. i wished we could have carried each other. i wished, at the time, that i could sustain him. i wished he could console me.

as we meet challenges again, i wonder how i can deliver him? i don't like to watch people i love struggle. come to think of it, i don't like to struggle myself.

bearing another's burden, when its already a shared load is complicated. its like buying each other christmas gifts out of the same bank account.

do you just watch? like when a kid is throwing up and you sit by them even though its gross.

do you panic too, so that you are truly empathizing and then you both drown together?

do you smile and say it will all be ok and try to create a happy mood around the house which just might be the waterwings for everyone? but maybe that seems oblivious, even callous.

"the fold of God...his people...are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light" (mosiah 18:8)

i'm willing. i just haven't figured it out yet.
that could almost be my life motto. (or my next blog theme.)

Is This Plant Going To Make It?

It's not looking too promising.

"Are We Cute?"

"Are we cute? Will you take a picture of us?"

I acquire 80% of my photos because my kids tell me they are cute and that I ought to take a picture. The other 20% comes from them using the camera themselves to take pictures of inanimate objects around the house.

What Are We Having For Breakfast?

Cold Cereal.

Is it Sunday?

Uh-huh.

Awwwwww.
Do we have to go to church?

Of course we're going to church.

I hate church.

Remember our family home Evening lesson with the Smarties? Remember why it is so important to keep the Sabbath Day Holy?

So that Heavenly Father can bless us.

That’s right and we really need those blessings right now.

But Heavenly Father could have answered
our prayers a long time ago.

I know that Heavenly Father listens to us and will bless us
with what will make us happy. He wants us to be happy.

It would make me happy not to go to church.
Does Heavenly Father want me to be happy?


Why do I always get trapped
on these kid logic conversations?

How Much Longer Can I Scrutinize My Life...

...Voice My Insecurities, and Question Everything?

I'm going to have to come up with a new Blog theme.

What's the Difference Between Forgiving...

...Forgetting, and Sweeping Under the Rug?

Are they all shades of the same colour?

Or different colours altogether?

Are they step 1, 2, and 3?

Is the only measure of forgiveness the response to next time?

All I can say is I am grateful that forgetting comes easily to me.

Can a Three Month Old Be Bored?

Baby,
please keep crying
when you're not
tired
or stinky
or hungry.

Please cry
when you are bored.

Otherwise
I'm afraid
we will forget
to talk to you
for days on end.

What Can I Do To Have Today Again Tomorrow?

Start at 5:00 with a baby who slept all night.
Watch rainbows grow in the sky on our walk to school.
Reach the end of the rainbow. Literally.
Fill an Ikea bag full of food and clothes and games for the family whose house burned down last night.
Deliver the bag.
Complete all the errands, even the dry cleaning.
Invite Chas on a lunch date and watch his eyes shine over his worms & dirt dessert.
Laugh together at Calvin & Hobbes with Eliza.
Listen to Naomi's post-Activity Days chatter without rushing her.
Soak in the hot tub so that someone can listen to my chatter.
Discover the secret to making the baby giggle. (a belt snapping on the bed--no wonder it took us so long to figure it out.)

Count the tender mercies of the Lord in my life.

It was so great, I think I'll do it all again tomorrow.

"Life is like an old-time rail journey-delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride." (Gordon B. Hinckley)

What Could Be Better?

It started earlier this week with a bowl of Breyers Brownie Mudpie.

But it wasn't salty enough.

The next bowl had a bit of peanut butter stirred in. Yum. Almost like a Ben & Jerry's flavour.

The next one was the same.

But that got old.

Tonight I discovered the chocolate sauce in the fridge.

I have arrived.

The brownie mudpie. The peanut butter. The fudge sauce.

Good thing I have also arrived at the end of the box.

Are You Getting What You Need?

Everyone else in this family takes what they need.

You wait for what you need.

Are you getting it?

Answer #13--It's All About Consistency

The power in prayer is cumulative.

My little acts of kindness only amount to anything in their total effect.

My children feel the importance of the temple when they notice that, "we just went to the temple a few weeks ago."

Each Family Home Evening is lonely and insignificant on its own.

Putting up with it and waiting it out and letting it go become patience in their quantity.

Our savings account grows with $50/month. It seems to shrink when I wait until we have enough money to put in.

"In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field. The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive. In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint. However, as you gradually move away from the canvas, all of the individual brushstrokes combine together and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field. Many ordinary, individual brushstrokes work together to create a captivating and beautiful painting.

Each family prayer, each episode of family scripture study, and each family home evening is a brushstroke on the canvas of our souls. No one event may appear to be very impressive or memorable. But just as the yellow and gold and brown strokes of paint complement each other and produce an impressive masterpiece, so our consistency in doing seemingly small things can lead to significant spiritual results. “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33). Consistency is a key principle as we lay the foundation of a great work in our individual lives and as we become more diligent and concerned in our own homes." (David A. Bednar)

On the other hand, something is always better than nothing.

How Many More Times Will We Get To Do This?

We'll soon have our own temple (in Langley), so we don't have many more six hours of movies in the car, all-you-can-eat buffets, kill time at the park down the street, blow money at Deseret Book trips in our future.

I will miss them.

In some ways the six hours of time to connect with my husband, the sacrifice of a little time and money, and the preparations necessary to make it a happy experience for my kids make our temple trips each month all the sweeter.

Maybe I'll still go to Seattle even when there's a temple down the street.

All I know is that when we lived in Salt Lake, with temples around every corner, we often missed attending every month. Since we've lived in Vancouver, we rarely miss a month, even though it requires much more of us. Why is that?

"I hope you are using the temple constantly, because you will gain blessings there that you cannot gain anywhere else on the face of the whole earth. The temple stands as a monument for all to see. It stands as a statement that we as a people believe in the immortality of the human soul. Everything that occurs in that temple is of an uplifting and ennobling kind. It speaks of life here and life beyond the grave. It speaks of the importance of the individual as a child of God. It speaks of the importance of the family as a creation of the Almighty. It speaks of the eternity of the marriage relationship. It speaks of going on to greater glory. It is a place of light, a place of peace, a place of love where we deal with the things of eternity." (Gordon B. Hinckley)

Why Are All of My Friends So Much More Talented...

...and Wittier, and Smarter, and More Generous, and Wiser Than I Am?

I must have really good taste.

Why Am I Blogging? (Part IV)

It's like a grocery list for my questions.

You know how when you realize you need sour cream or cleanser or cinnamon it nags at the back of your brain until you write it down?

Oh, no. What was it that I was supposed to remember at the store.
Was it sage? Baking soda? Tissues?
Why didn't I write it down?

Even when I write it on a scrap of paper doomed to be lost long before the grocery store trip, I still feel better. And that annoying voice saying: Cleanser. Cleanser. Don't forget the Cleanser. You're going to forget, I know you are, finally leaves me alone.

It's that same way with all of these questions plugging up my mind.

Blog on scrap of paper and have done with it.

How Could It Possibly Be 11 O'Clock Already?

Kindergarten pick-up time.

All I did was nurse and clean two bathrooms.

Stinky. (The bathrooms and the pick-up time.)

Oh, and I wrote this little blog.

"What's The Hokey Pokey?"

Chas asked this morning. Eliza didn't know either. Nor Naomi.

Last week they wondered what sparklers were.



I rectified the sparkler problem on Halloween and the Hokey Pokey ignorance this afternoon in our living room.

They don't have a clue what's on TV. The only music they're exposed to at home is from before I was born. We had to Google the 4th grade music craze, Demi Lovato. They don't know what's playing at the movie theatres or the name of anybody famous except Obama. I'm not sure they know that video games exist.

What a deprived existence I'm carving out for our children.

The same one my mother created for me. The one I'm so very grateful for.

What's Up With Moods? (Part II)

crunchy leaves and pink noses
sun on top and fog beneath
sweatshirt weather
a peaceful pace because we're not late
children holding hands
with each other!
and autumn smells
on our way to school this morning

All Is Right With The World.

What If I Made a List

of all of the things I do today
instead of all of the things I need to do?

It might be a really short list.