And Then Life Takes a Turn...

I've been teasing you with a promised post on Christmas ornaments for a few weeks, and I promise I did start writing it today.  But then I got an email about a job opening that would be so PERFECT for my husband and I got completely carried away and Christmas ornaments just don't sound that interesting anymore.

What's the job, you're asking?  Well, I'm not going to tell you everything because he hasn't even filled out the application, but recently he told me what he really wanted to be doing was working in the great outdoors.  He's always loved biking, hiking, skiing, and is crazy adventurous.  This job would allow him to do all of those things plus a whole lot more...for a living.

What would the job mean for me?  He'd be gone A LOT.  It'd mean a summer of me and 4 kids figuring things out on our own.  It could mean giving up our house and bumming couches from friends and family all summer instead of continuing our search for a bigger place we can all fit in.  It could mean a lot of traveling to where he is, including a trip up the ALCAN Highway with my minivan, a 5-year-old, 2-year-old and 9 month old twins.  It could mean saving a lot of money or turn into having absolutely no money.  And most importantly, it would mean being so incredibly proud of my husband for giving up the security of a decent paycheck at a ho-hum job to do something that he really loves to do!  It'd give me hope for my own dreams coming true in the future, too!

I'll let you know how it all turns out, but for now know that I have a HUGE grin on my face.  And forgive me for not getting around to that very "settled down and domesticated" post I'd been promising...maybe in a few days when I come down off this high..

Thankful Thirty #28 (Home)

It is time to find a new home.  We love the house we've been in for the past 3 years, but it is time to pack and go before the walls burst at their seams.  We need an office space that isn't splayed across the dining room table.  We need a laundry room that doesn't play the role of kitchen 6.5 days of the week.  We need outdoor storage so our strollers, camping equipment, fishing gear, golf clubs, picnic toys, spare electrical parts, life jackets, ski boots, bike trailer, roller blades, fondue pots, spare wallpaper, backpacks, and air mattresses aren't all jammed into one uninsulated closet in our bedroom.  And we need to be able to walk through the whole place without tripping over baby things (or, worse, babies).

The hunt has begun, and of course we had to start out with nearly irresistible temptation.  There is a house for rent 1 block from where we live now that looked as close to my dream home as I can imagine ever finding.  A long driveway so it sets off the road.  Next to the elementary school with a gate in the fence to get through.  A wall of windows on the north side overlooking an expansive hollow and ravine.  And totally remodeled on top of everything.  The problem?  It's above our budget but just enough to make it impossible to walk away from.

The past two weeks have been a sincere test of willpower on my part.  That's how long we made ourselves wait before going to look at it.  We figured if it didn't get snapped right up, maybe it was meant to be.  Of course in the back of my mind I knew that if it didn't get snapped up there might be something wrong with it, but the idyllic abode I'd built it up to be in my mind kept me dreaming.

We looked at it this morning.  It took two minutes to get from our driveway to the front door and my kids didn't think it was strange at all because they could still see the park they play in and the neighbors they know and love.  And as soon as I walked in the door I knew this isn't the next place our family will call home.

Don't get me wrong, the layout was great, the windows and view were amazing!  There was a basement with two large pantries we hadn't been expecting, and also a patio out the back door.  Past that red flags went up in almost every room.  The bedroom walls were freshly painted, but the stucco walls were crumbling and black mold was poorly hidden.  The bathroom vanity that looked high quality in the listing photos was actually wooden, fading, and showing signs of rot due to the lack of windows or ventilation fans.  And the kitchen with it's new stainless steel appliances and marble counter tops were only a distraction from the matted carpet and exposed electrical wires behind the cupboard doors.  As we finished up our walk through,   I couldn't ignore the thought gnawing inside of me that the amount of cosmetic improvements done on the house must be covering up an equal amount of structural or mechanical problems with the house.

And that was it for me.  All the dreaming I've done since first seeing the listing, and worrying about falling in love with a place we couldn't afford, were mitigated instantly.  Not for one moment did I consider moving my boys into a bedroom with mold.  As we drove the two minutes back home I talked to my husband about the reasons we were comfortable letting this house go and he said that he agreed with me.  Before he left to go to work, though, I need to be sure.  I asked him,  "Are we on the same page?"

His reply? "But it has an ice maker in the refrigerator door..."

This house-hunting thing isn't going to be easy...

I'm grateful for the home I've loved and the excitement of looking for another one.

Thankful Thirty #25 (Children)

Source: pinterestcommunity.com via Michelle on Pinterest

My husband took my oldest son up the canyon for his first ski lesson of the season today and left me at home with our three littler boys.  IT WAS SO NICE!

I can't remember the last time my house was so quiet.  I can't remember the last time I've gone an entire day without yelling.  It was fun to watch our 2-year-old playing what he wanted to play for as long as he wanted to play it.  It was nice to read a book while feeding the babies instead of squeezing bottles into my role as referee.  And it was really nice to be showered in hugs and help when the ski day was through.

Another day like this might not come again for quite some time, but that's okay.  It's not one I plan on forgetting any time soon.

I'm grateful for an uplifting change in routine.

Thankful Thirty #18 (The Body)

I ran a mile today.  I've only done that one other time in my life.  It was 17 years ago and I HATED it way back then.  I'll stop short of saying I hated it as much when I did it today, but I am confident telling you it was not the most fun thing I've done lately.

Why did I decide to do something so unenjoyable on a cold rainy day?  A little while back I agreed to run a 5K with my sisters and then they actually decided it was something we should motivate each other to do.  I'm not sure I expected that, but I definitely don't want to show up there being the slowest one.  So, my "training" starts today.

The truth is I was unbelievably nervous to strike out today.  First, I didn't want my husband to laugh at me.  Of course he wouldn't, but he's run several marathons and has distance running legs and lungs and I could definitely never keep up with him.  And second, I honestly didn't think I could do it.  Even though I love hiking and biking, I've never considered myself athletic.  I mapped the distance in my car and my jaw dropped-it seemed really really far!

Well, I did it...and I didn't die.  My neighbors might have questioned that if they saw me walking home after I finished, but I made it.  My teeth were hurting and my head was so hot it could have been burning, but now I can say that it's done.  And I feel good!

Tonight after all the kids were in bed and the housework was as done as it's going to get for today, the thought popped into my head, "You ran a mile today!"  It brought a smile to my face!  It made me happy.  And it's motivated me to quit being so lazy.  I'm not entirely convinced to go back out tomorrow and try running some more, but there are other ways of exercising that I do enjoy and I'm going to get out to do them...so that I really don't show up for the race with my sisters and watch them smoke me...

I'm grateful for the ability to push myself in the body God gave me.

It's 1:45 in the morning as I push the publish button.  

If I wake up in the morning and realize this post is completely incoherent,

 I completely apologize! :)

Thankful Thirty #16 (Relationships)

Source: flickr.com via Michelle on Pinterest

You are probably reading this at the beginning of your day, but I'm writing it at the end of my day and I'm tired and I'm ready to crash and I'm so glad my husband was willing to give the babies their bath tonight so I could sit for just one minute and relax.  He's a good dad.  He's a great husband!  I love him.

I'm grateful for thoughtful partnerships.

Thankful Thirty #3

My husband has asked for a little head's up if I'm going to write something that makes tears come to his eyes in front of the guys at work.  To give him a break, I'll keep it short and sweet today.

Source: quote-book.tumblr.com via Michelle on Pinterest

I'm grateful for a husband who knows I am strong,

 lets me be weak, and serves me even when I don't deserve it.

Thankful Thirty #2

Source:  via Pinterest

The first 4 months of my last pregnancy were not pleasant.  I was exhausted and my body was broken down.  Feeling completely different than I did when I was pregnant with both my boys, every person I know had decided I must be carrying a girl.  I thought they must be right...but it didn't matter.  I was sick and being tested to the edge of what I could bear.

There were days it took all I had to pour cold cereal and turn on the television for Beck and Peyton before falling back into bed for the rest of the day.  It was on those days that I knew this was it for me.  Three babies was going to have to be what made up our family.  Doubled over and in tears I plead with the Lord to give me the strength and willpower to make it through my delivery and then apologized to my husband that this was going to have to be our last child.  Enduring another pregnancy was just not going to happen for me.

At the same time my husband was secretly pleading with the Lord to take this burden from me.  He was feeling guilty for the role he played in bringing this weakness upon me, and he was begging to be able to endure it for me.  As blessed as he knew we are to bring newborn spirits into our family, he admitted to God that he never wanted to see me feeling this way again.

We both knew this would be the completing of our family.

And here brings in the focus of my gratitude today:  The Lord knew too.  He heard our prayers and listened to our pleas.  He didn't chastise us for reacting in such a temporal moment, but wrapped his arms around our arms and answered back,

 "I believe you and I understand what you are going through. 

 I am near you and I will continue to be right here with you."

That is when we found out we were having twins.   

The Lord knew our hearts and recognized what he had asked of me.  Yet He also knew he had a plan for our family and it included more than just one more being.  He accepted my terms of defeat and did what he could to do to make sure His plan for us was complete.  If I, with my earthly mind and suffering, had decided to not be pregnant ever again, He sent the spirits He had left for us into the world together.

I do not know what our future holds.  There may be a day yet when we decide we do need to grow our family.  What I do know is that in the moment when I needed the Lord to accept all I had left to give to Him, he kept in mind His plan for me.  

I am grateful for a Heavenly Father 
so personally familiar with me and with His plan for me.

Family Birthday

I'm supposed to be writing a letter to my father-in-law today.  He turned 75 on Saturday and as part of the celebration, everyone was asked to write him a little message that could be compiled in a book and given to him later in the year.  Truth be told, I was supposed to write the letter every single day for the past 3 months and now that I'm one day past the deadline, I'm having complete writer's block.  Naturally...

On Saturday all of my husband's nearby family gathered at their dad's house to help with the "yardwork."  That term being completely an understatement.  With a hodge-podge combination of chainsaws, hedge trimmers, hacksaws, chippers, brooms, rusty files, and when all else failed, pure strength of muscle, they attacked the forest of russian olive trees overtaking the backyard ravine and made a clearing in the front yard that turned up an actual sidewalk along with a set of newspaper route inserts stuffed in the overgrowth in 1993.  The project wasn't the brainchild of a considerate child or two, but the humble gift request from a father who has been lovingly cultivating a jungle to rival the Amazon for as many years as any of them can remember.  The second understatement would be to say there was much rejoicing...

The entire event was a sight to see.  My father-in-law raised an incredible family.  They know how to work together and enjoy each other's company.  Even on a blistering hot day with thorns puncturing thick-soled shoes and more scratches than if they'd survived a chicken fight, they were happy and joking and making the work seem easy.  The teenage grandkids were just equally as intense in fulfilling grandpa's birthday wish and the littlest ones were in heaven with the evolving backyard obstacles.

I try to never take for granted that I've been welcomed into such a focused and devoted family.  Of course there's drama and of course I have moments when I envy the families who live far away, but sometime in the past 75 years a man figured out the secret to being and raising people of good moral character and value and he deserves more recognition for that than he'll ever want to take.

Oh, that I could just use this as my letter....

The Journey That My Heart Is On

My husband is in Seattle this week.  My boys and I were going to meet him there for the Easter weekend and go exploring on the Olympic Peninsula, but the the weather forecast was for low 50's and rainy.  We're not going.  We were going to go to the Redwoods for my 2-year-old's birthday, but we didn't.  I wanted to drive to San Diego, leave my kids with family, and go on a cruise this summer before the baby comes.  Completely off the table.  And the year-long adventure I've been dreaming about?  Most definitely not going to happen.

In full disclaimer, my kids and I are going back to the Sparks Flea Market next month to hang out with my family.  I used all my frequent flyer miles and all our free hotel nights to get us there.  They were going to waste and it's not looking like I will be using them for anything else anytime soon...I don't travel anymore.

Would you mind being the bounce board for my therapy?  

First, I never have renewed my passport.  The money always kept going elsewhere.  The cruise I mentioned earlier would require a passport and applying now would probably not see that beautiful blue book back in my hands until I'm too pregnant to be sailing.  One weekend I had an idea to fly to Canada and go camping in Banff National Park this summer, or to drive to Alaska to visit friends, but those are things I also can't do without a passport. Please don't offer the advice that I could expedite my renewal.  I know.  That adds to the cost which has been inhibiting me all these months and appears to be staunchly implanted in my brain as an excuse not to go get my new photo taken tomorrow.

Second, life happens when you don't realize you're looking right at it.  For 15 years I've had a personal philosophy that people don't need to settle down until they have children that start school.  And with today's technology, that's not even a resolute reason to change your wandering lifestyle if your family is still out there  having fun.  Five years ago when I had my first baby my ideals didn't change, but since then the trips have become routinely shorter and closer to home.  I HATE when people tell me having kids changes things.  I don't think it's an excuse to quit doing things.  How could I have let that happen to me?  

Now I have my soon-to-be kindergartner registered in an online curriculum  that would enable us to keep taking off on far-away adventures.  So what happens?  Life, again.  All the money we'd saved and sacrifices we've made to pack up and leave town weren't for nothing.  They've just turned out to not be for what we'd thought they would be.  Medical bills for new babies and broken arms and who knows what else is to come turn out to cost just about the same amount of money as backpacking around the world for 9 months in bliss.

As for the third and final reckoning in my brain?  My husband has decided he likes living a comfortable suburban life with a safely predictable job, all of his hobbies, and extra-curricular responsibilities.  He has contentedly settled down.  He won't tell me that matter-of-fact, but it's time for me to accept and start dealing with it.  How do I know that's where he's at in his life right now?  He's quit getting excited when I call out of the blue with a hair-brained plan for where we should take off to on the weekend.  I used to jump in the car and show-up unexpectedly wherever he was working out of town, but now he as much as tells me it'd be more responsible if I stayed home and saved the money.  He's in his fourth year of a job that was always supposed to be the hold-over until a great new adventure came along, but now he talks about a year from now when he'll be working more in the office and less on the road.  The final blow?  The year-long traveling life change I believed in wholeheartedly never evolved further than a passing whimsy to be discarded quickly in my husband's mind.  

Having now had my equivalent hour on the couch, how do I evolve from here?

I have no idea.  Always in my mind are the thoughts that I'm being tested and need to learn to be happy in the moment with the circumstances surrounding me.  That it is noble and normal to live in one house & one town with predictable days forever.  I feel guilty that my vision of motherhood, marriage partnership, and family life is so different from everyone else.  I struggle with wondering why I have to be the one that pretends to be something different than what is deeply rooted inside me.  I dread hearing people tell me not to give up on my dream or lose the wandering part of my soul when I don't see how there is any other option for me.  I don't want to be one of those, "When the children are older," or "We'll do that when we retire" type of people, but that is exactly what is happening. 

That is what is happening to me.  Part of me is being buried and the tightening I feel in my chest when I admit it so I can let it go confirms that I've barely embarked on the most challenging journey yet that my heart has been asked to travel.

Uniquely December: Take It In the Ear Day

Many years ago a cable movie channel let an intern play editor for a day.  Off the shelf came, "Liar, Liar" and off he went to work.  His goal for the day?  Change barely offensive dialogue into family-approved rhetoric.

The scene:  Retrieving his car from the impound lot, lawyer Fletcher Reede notices a new scratch on the side.  Irate, he begins taking it out on the lot boy.

The dialogue:
"You scratched my car!
"Oh, yeah, whatcha gonna do about it?"
"NOTHING! If I take you to small claims court, you probably wouldn't show up, and if you did and I won you'd just stiff me anyway.  So, I'm going to turn around and just take it in...the ear...


Feeling confident in his choice of insults, the intern quickly inserted ...the ear... into another movie or two (The Wayans brothers "Bulletproof" for one), punched the clock and called it a day.

Is there anyone my husband knows that has not heard this story?  I don't think so.  Is he overjoyed to have a day devoted to this most ridiculous of dialogue dubbing.  I am positive there isn't a person he runs into today that won't hear his over-excited re-telling of an intern's innocent attempt at real job for a day...

Making Money

Back in high school I wrote out a plan whereby the world could stop using money.  If I remember right, we would all go on a honest bartering system and we would all be happy.  Sounds nice, doesn't it?  Never feeling like you're lacking or deprived as long as someone else will trade you.  I'm thinking that idea won't soon be winning the Nobel Prize for Economics.

My life seems to be constantly tied up with the stress of money.  My brain is taxed to the hilt on payday as I divide a decent amount among an overwhelming number of bills and responsibilities.  My inner self struggles daily against the temptation of shopping.  The weight of unwise credit card debt keeps us aware of our bad choices.  My husband endures a lackluster job that allows us to leave adequately well.  And we wonder how our parents raised families on considerably less.

So what are we doing?  For awhile we've been half-doing Dave Ramsey's financial program.  It worked really well in the beginning and now we've just drawn it out too long.  We do have an emergency savings but need a shot in the arm to continue getting where we need to be.  I know he always says, "Beans and rice, rice and beans" but it seems like it would take eating our food storage every night for awhile before that would get us too far ahead.

We talked recently about moving into a small cheap apartment as a way to build up extra money each month. Truthfully, that's what we've done for our whole marriage.  The place we're living now is the first place we've really loved and for the perks that come with it, we'd be sacrificing more than just shelter to move out now.  

And we've talked about getting part-time jobs.  Indeed, I started applying for seasonal jobs this afternoon.  I'm not 100% sold on the idea, but it seems like a better solution than asking my already hard-working husband to be gone from his kids even longer every day.  If I think about it long, I do start getting excited about contributing again, especially imagining my check's chunk of money disappearing our debt directly.

We will keep on keeping on, but I'm curious...

when in similar situations, what do you do?

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Kitchen Kismet

I have been trying for hours to come up with something interesting that starts with "K".  All I can come up with are kitchens and kids.  Or koalas.  Kismet.  And Kit-Kats.  On a love/hate list my kids obviously go on the love side.  Koalas and Kit-Kats somewhere in the middle neutral ground.  My kitchen?  In a heartbeat I would trade in my kitchen.

First let me say that we live in a rental so we have what we have and that's what stays.  Size-wise, it's okay.  There are a lot of cupboards and drawers for storage.  The cupboards are painted gray, which seems like an odd kitchen color to me, but we've decorated in blacks and reds and I guess it's working.  We have a decent amount of counter space, which is an improvement from places I've lived in the past.  And, our stacked washer/dryer are in our kitchen and surprisingly I absolutely love that!

So what are the problems?  Two I can think of.  First, the cupboards are hung over the bar and require a person to bend over nearly parallel to the floor before speaking to the person on the other side-even when you're sitting.  Second, we don't have a dishwasher.  I used to feel spoiled complaining about not having a dishwasher, but not anymore.  It's seriously a problem.  Dirty dishes eliminate all that usable counter space and reality is that they just don't get done everyday.  Plus, if you remember my statement on the proper order of hand washing the dishes, you know my marriage would be much better off with an automated machine doing my dish cleaning.  

In the end, I love cooking, and so love being in my kitchen;  even if I don't love the kitchen itself.  I'll keep making do and dreaming of the day one of these kitchens is part of my home.

Other A-Z

Yummy Yummy Ice Cream

Who on the planet doesn't love ice cream?  Or gelato, or Italian Ice, or frozen yogurt?  Well, anyways, I love ice cream enough for anyone out there who does not partake.

My favorite?  Definitely Chunky Monkey from Ben & Jerry's.

I was going to explain the inner struggle I have supporting Ben & Jerry's (loving their strong corporate culture while hating a number of their political/social stances), but, really, it's just ice cream, and I'm not strong enough to say no. 

In the end, I don't patronize their scoop shops anymore, but if my husband brings a pint home to smooth over our latest disagreement, I'm hardly going to turn down the cold and creamy treat.  Can you blame me?

Missed A-H?

H Takes Us Up, Up, & Away

I LOVE hot-air balloons!   Last year we went to the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta for the fiesta and I'm hooked!  That festival has hundreds of balloons lifting off every morning of the 10-day festival.  You can sign up to be part of a balloon chase-team and then get in free for the entire festival.  Last year I pushed my reluctant husband into volunteering and he was addicted after his first day.  He ended up chasing with a team from the Netherlands flying a 10-story-high Rooster balloon.

Last Christmas my husband's boss bought hot-air balloon rides for all his employees.  Oh, that was fantastic for me!  We saved our vouchers and went last week for my birthday!  I think most people have a romantic idea of what it will be like floating in a balloon.  It was exciting and fun, but not necessarily peaceful.  We were in a basket with 10 other people.  The burners control the rate of conversation (or at least how much of the conversation you hear) and they're pretty hot!  One man on our balloon was nearly bald and the pilot had to scrounge up a dirty smelly baseball cap for him to where instead of roasting his head.

I know hot-air ballooning is not for everybody.  It happens in the EARLY morning.  It's more successful in cooler temperatures.  It's not face-paced and you are thousands of feet off the ground suspended in a basket propelled only by a little propane.  But it's definitely worth a try!  The balloons are enormous!  Watching the first balloon of a dawn patrol alight before dawn is mesmorizing.  The coldest air is actually on the ground and warms as you make you way upwards.  And though I'm not afraid of heights, several people have told me that once you're off the ground, height is all relative and not really a problem.  

I think you should try it!  Get up close and see how it happens.  And if you find yourself at this year's Balloon Fiesta (Oct.1-10), look for me!  I'll be there.

C-C-C-Cats

I hate cats.  I'm not an animal person in general, but I especially could do without cats.  The great thing is that my husband shares an equal disinterest in furry felines and so I'll never have to worry about having one in my home.  Even better, our mutual hatred has spawned quite a bout of conniving and trickery.  Take for example the birthday cake I bought him the first year we were hanging out together...

and the t-shirt I made him a few years ago for Christmas which reads, "Real Men Love Cats."

Pretty much anything ugly or ridiculous merchandised to cat-lovers is fair game to sneak into a family gathering.  And what my husband doesn't know yet?  I've indoctrinated the children!  How long before he figures out it's no coincidence his birthday cards, Father's Day cards, and "Daddy, I just love you so I bought a card" cards are decorated in cats wearing frog costumes or cute kitties mewing with hearts around their heads?

For more ideas on exactly the kind of images that make us vomit, and hence are fair-game for the next hideousness to make it's way into our home, check out these cats.

Click here for A-B

What Do You Do In a Family?

Yesterday I had the great privilege to teach a lesson at church on family responsibility (basically, parenting).  A week ago I was irrevocably convinced I was the last person on earth qualified to teach that particular lesson and almost called to back out.  As the week progressed I thought to myself, "If any of my neighbors are in class on Sunday, I'll have to feign immediate illness."  They would surely call me out as a completely unqualified hypocrite.  But the Holy Ghost does wonderful things when you turn over your life in humility.  When it was all said and done, the 35 minutes I spent in front of the class was the most spiritual time I've ever felt while teaching.

Here are some of the things the spirit taught to me:

 My kids are children of our Heavenly Father.  They have His spirit, and their spirits studied with Him, learned from Him, and grew to maturity before they were given the opportunity to come to me. When I look at them I need to see what He sees and ask, "Who are you?" instead of "Why are you doing that?" or "What were you thinking."  My role as their mother is as much to learn from them as it is to teach them the things that I know.

In the grand scheme of things, what is really important for me to teach them?  To have faith.  To believe in the power of repentance.  That by making right choices, they can have the Holy Ghost as a constant guide.  And to pray (D&C 68:25, 28).  And if these are the things they are to learn, then I need to be sure to teach them in meekness and with patience.  I need to be ever kind and focused on true knowledge rather than my human confusions.  I need to be able and willing to clarify their mistakes with love.  Everything I do needs to pull them closer towards me rather than build up a moat that pushes them away (D&C 121:41-44)

It is a marvelous thing to have a family and that part of that family compound is a spouse to share both the burdens and the joys. I appreciated the council provided in my lesson material for my husband laying out simply the three things which are essential in his role as a father:

• Being worthy of the sacred calling to be a father and living in a way that allows him to perform in that capacity
• Making it a priority to spend time individually with each of his kids.  To get to know them and build a relationship where they can always feel comfortable calling on him.
• To provide for his family 

I especially appreciated the order of those three things.  His focus, and our focus together, should always be on the spiritual things first.  And while it is his responsibility, if possible, to provide for us, it should never become his main priority.

That brings me, then, to what I should be doing as a mother.  More than anything, my little boys need me to be spending time with them.  They need me to play with them and teach them life doesn't always have to be serious.  Children learn the best through play and I should never pass up the opportunity to listen to the things  they are imagining and dreaming.  

I need to do everything in my power to provide the best example of faithfulness and spiritual strength.  My actions and attitudes go a long way in allowing the spirit to dwell in our home and bring the peace children need to feel when surrounded by family.  Someday they will leave our home and head out into the world.  When they do it won't matter if someone else has to teach them to sew on a button or properly wash the dishes.  I would never dream of leaving their seeds of testimony to be planted and cultivated by the outside world.

A story in The Book of Mormon teaches about of a group of 2000 young men who fought valiantly for their families and their communities in battle.  Through trouble and strife, they ever laid the source of their courage at the feet of their mothers.

...and they were all young men, and they were exceedingly valiant for courage...but behold, this was not all-they were men who were true at all times in whatsoever thing they were entrusted.  Yea, they were men of truth and soberness, for they had been taught to keep the commandments of God and to walk uprightly before him...yea, they had been taught by their mothers, that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them.  And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers, saying, : "We do not doubt our mothers knew it." Alma 53:20-21, 56:47-48

That brings me to the last, and most important, thing I took away from my lesson yesterday: A mother's testimony can have a profound influence on her children.  I would add that a mother without a strong testimony will have an equally profound influence on the testimonies of the spirits with which she has been entrusted.  And yet, we are not alone.  Being a parent is far from easy and there will continue to be times when my spirit is dampened and trampled.  Yet I know there is no need to worry.  The Lord is watching over me.

The Butter Dish...Seriously?

There is an order to all things...especially washing the dishes.  Is anybody listening?  The order goes like this:

1. Cups and glasses
2. All plastics (exception: the salad bowl coated in oil dressing from last night's dinner)
3. Silverware

The above three items can all go in the first load of bubbly water.

4. Plates and bowls of the non-plastic variety

5. Any mixing bowls, baking items, etc not completely covered in anything disgusting.

Anytime after beginning items #4 & #5 it is acceptable and necessary to evaluate the state of your bubbly water.  Don't be stubborn or lazy-Drain and re-fill, the world is not going to end.

6. Any greasy plastics, disgusting items from #5-THIS is when you'd wash the butter dish, NOT with #1-3.

7. All your pans

Same instructions as with #4 & #5.  Check your sponge or washcloth, too-rinsing isn't helping? Grab a new one!

I guarantee this is the proper order for washing dishes.  Follow it and your clean dishes won't be sticky or covered in a slippery film.  Follow it and I'll quit wondering how a family that grew up with a strict dish schedule neglected to learn how to properly clean the dishes they were scheduling.  Follow it and I'll quit throwing half the "clean" dishes back into the sink without being used.

Oh, but, since I HATE doing dishes, thank you...carry on...

Doing Something That Makes You Happy

I went to a free concert last Friday with my family to see a band called Moosebutter.  Self-billed as a comedy acapella group, I had never seen them in person, but was promised a night of hilarity.  Not necessarily because the band is good or funny, but because my in-laws are notorious for making fun of something until you're laughing so hard they start laughing at you.

Moosebutter on Friday night consisted of four middle-aged guys (I say middle-aged hesitantly because one of them went to school with my husband and that would mean I've now labelled myself with that heavy moniker) jumping around and shouting out melodic song parodies.  I think sometimes they have only two guys and maybe sometimes they have five or six.  This night there was a beat-boxer, a phenomenal falsetto, and two other guys.  About every 10 minutes I found them genuinely entertaining, and then I morphed back into complete boredom and confusion.  The show went on for nearly two hours and while my very first impression was that this was 4 winded guys who needed to sit down after the first stanza, by the end I was at least impressed that they were all still standing.

As the show ended, the park lights came up, and we were forced to rationalize the two hours of life we'd just lost, my thoughts went this way:

~That was really bad...I think I stared straight without blinking for at least half an hour
~Alright, they obviously have an audience.  The stage was three-deep with pre-tweens that couldn't contain their enthusiasm.  And, oddly (or sadly), there was an occasional uproar of attention from the larger audience which would indicate that at least the parent's of those pre-tweens were paying attention.
~Good for them for knowing their audience and not pretending they're trying to do anything more...well, surely they hope to be something more, but for now it's a great idea to work with what you've got.

Then I got a tad bit melancholy.  As I listened to the last of the jokes putter out around me, it hit me:  These are four guys who have found something they love to do and are making a living doing it.  As I've done more research (on their humble website) I've come to the conclusion that this definitely is not a day job for any of them.  Maybe that makes it acceptably better-a hobby that people are in some degree willing to indulge occasionally.  Sounds pretty amazing!

On our way out of the venue, my husband made an effort to talk to the Moosebutter member he'd once palled around with.  That is when the oddity and reality finally hit me.  "Mr. Tim" is definitely my husband's age (just to clarify that's only around 35, we're not ancient yet).  He shared great insight on the pitfalls of performing in that particular type of venue with parent-less children storming the stage.  He looked tired, but was so obviously still the center of attention amongst all the Moosebutter groupies.  Then, as we were talking a boy looking  at least 10-years-old came up and called Mr. Tim "dad."  Everyone in our party did a double-take.  Turns out Mr. Tim has SIX kids and still finds time to dress up in a red monkey suit and babble nonsensically onstage every now and then.

Moosebutter in concert ended up being a shot in the arm for me.  Big deal that I didn't find myself entertained beyond my wildest belief, and how impressive is it that we made ourselves feel better by mocking people more willing to share their talents than we ever will be.  I have great ideas about living the life I want rather than the life society has pigeon-holed for me.  People are doing it!  Moosebutter is doing it!  I want to being it, too!

Reality

My husband is in California today.  He had to get up at 4AM, wait at work for his unreliable boss to show up and take him to the airport, and get on a plane to fly to Sacramento.  He's doing 2 hours worth of work there and then driving a box truck (think Uhaul) across Nevada and arriving back home sometime tomorrow.  Oh, and did I mention that he just sent me photos of himself sitting in the co-pilot's chair in the cockpit of the jet he flew on?  I have no idea what that was all about but the grin on his face tells me that something extraordinary happened to him this morning.

What was I doing when the photo arrived?  Reprimanding my toddler for wiping his bum without toilet paper.  Losing the argument that he needed to use HOT water to wash his hands.  Insisting that he go get clean underwear instead of running around the house naked.  And hearing him tell me after he's run on the carpet that he's found poo on his feet, too.

So, what was my initial reaction to my husband's moment of joy digitally captured and sent to me over the airwaves?  Hatred and disgust, honestly.  Completely gone was the sympathy I'd felt when he'd exhaustedly crawled out of bed in the dark.  The gentle prayer I'd offered up that he would be safe and alert on his drive back our way completely buried.  Also forgotten were the laughs I'd had with my two boys just hours earlier as they piled on top of me in bed, and any thought of encouraging words or shared enthusiasm.

That's how my days tend to be.  I know my husband words hard at a job he doesn't always like.  But because he gets to leave the house, and the kids, I tell myself his life is easy.  When he gets home at night I continue on with cooking dinner or finishing the laundry, but check out from anymore taking care of the kids.  Dad's home, Dad's turn.  It seems like it's working because he loves playing with his boys more than anything on the planet, but it's probably only working because I give him no other choice.

Do you find yourself having the same thoughts or reactions with people and events in your life?  What helps you throughout the day to focus on the beautiful and fun things that are happening instead of getting buried in individual nasty moments?

How do you show your spouse/family/friends that you appreciate the sacrifices they've made for you?  And what gives you balance throughout your day?