When, and perhaps especially when we don't believe in God, He still believes in us.
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Saturday, December 5, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
A message of hope
Everytime we reach out, however feebly, for Him, we discover He has been anxiously trying to reach us.
The Savior's Atonement lifts from us not only the burden of our sins but also the burden of our disappointments and sorrows, our heartaches and our despair.
--Jeffrey R. Holland
Broken Things to Mend
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The Savior's Atonement lifts from us not only the burden of our sins but also the burden of our disappointments and sorrows, our heartaches and our despair.
--Jeffrey R. Holland
Broken Things to Mend
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Raise Children, Not Flowers
My sister posted a link to this article on Facebook and I thought it applied to many of us. Whatever you are doing, whether you have children or not, I think it is a good reminder that we need to be gentler with those around us and especially gentler with ourselves. After all, we are all children.
Raise Children, Not Flowers
I'll never forget the story of David, my next door neighbor a while back, who taught me a great lesson one morning as I watched him trying to teach his seven-year-old son how to push the gas-powered lawn mower around the yard. As he was showing him how to turn the mower around at the end of the lawn, his wife Jan called to him to ask a question. When David turned to answer the question, Kelly pushed the lawn mower right through the flower bed at the edge of the lawn--leaving a two-foot wide path leveled to the ground!
David was not happy about this. As soon as he saw what had happened, he began to lose control. David had put a lot of time and effort into making those flower beds the envy of the neighborhood. The moment his voice climbed higher in a semi-rage toward poor Kelly, Jan walked quickly over to him, put her hand on his shoulder and said, "David, please remember...we're raising children, not flowers!"
The moral of this story couldn't be more important today. Each one of us is enduring more stress as we face a recession and a deep financial shakeup that has no end in sight. During times like these it's essential for us parents to remember what our priorities are. Our kids and their self-esteem are more important than any physical object they might break or destroy. The window pane shattered by a mishit baseball, a lamp knocked over by a careless child, or a plate dropped in the kitchen are already broken. The flowers are already dead. All of these things are replaceable; our children are not. We must remember not to add to the destruction by breaking a child's spirit and deadening their sense of aliveness.
Words, especially when yelled in anger, can be very damaging to a child's self-confidence. The child probably already feels bad enough just from seeing the consequences of his or her behavior. Our sons and daughters don't need more guilt and self-doubt heaped upon their already wounded egos. If anything, they need to be reminded that we all make mistakes throughout our life. (Here's an exercise to try: the next time you feel like raising your voice to one of your kids, stop and think about the last time you made a mistake. It probably wasn't too long ago, and you really don't care to be yelled at for that right now.)
More recently, I was buying some new clothes in a men's store and the owner and I started talking about parenting. He told me that while he and his wife and seven-year-old daughter were out at a restaurant for dinner, his daughter knocked over her water glass. It spilled everywhere and messed up her mother's dress as the water flowed over the edge near her seat. After the water was cleaned up without any recriminating remarks from her parents, she looked up and said, "You know, I really want to thank you guys for not being like other parents. Most of my friends' parents would have yelled at them and given them a lecture about paying more attention. Thanks for not doing that!"
Once, when I was having dinner with some friends, a similar incident happened. Their five-year-old son knocked over a glass of milk at the dinner table. When they immediately started in on him, I knocked my glass over, too. When I started to explain how I still knock things over even as an adult, the boy started to beam and the parents seemingly got the message and backed off. How easy it is to forget that we are all still learning.
One of the best stories I've ever heard about "spilt milk" and the lessons of making a mess comes from a famous research scientist who made several very important medical breakthroughs. A newspaper reporter once asked him why he thought he was able to be so much more creative than the average person. What set him so far apart from others?
He responded that, in his opinion, it all came from an experience with his mother, which occurred when he was about two years old. He had been trying to remove a bottle of milk from the refrigerator, when he lost his grip on the slippery bottle and it fell, spilling its contents all over the kitchen floor--a veritable sea of milk! (Thankfully, no glass shattered, but the milk kept flowing out like a river.)
When his mother came into the kitchen, instead of yelling at him, giving him a lecture, or punishing him, she said, "Robert, what a great and wonderful mess you have made! I have rarely seen such a huge puddle of milk. Well, the damage has already been done. Would you like to get down and play in the milk for a few minutes before we clean it up?"
Indeed, he did. After a few minutes his mother said, "You know, Robert, whenever you make a mess like this, eventually you have to clean it up, and restore everything to its proper order. So, how would you like to do that? We could use a sponge, a towel or a mop. What do you prefer?" He chose the sponge and together they cleaned up the spilled milk.
His mother then said, "You know what we have here is a failed experiment in how to effectively carry a big milk bottle with two tiny hands. Let's go out in the back yard and fill the bottle with water and see if you can discover a way to carry it without dropping it." The little boy learned that if he grasped the bottle at the top near the lip with both hands, he could carry it without dropping it. What a wonderful lesson!
This renowned scientist then remarked that it was at that moment he knew he didn't need to be afraid to make mistakes. Instead he learned that mistakes were just opportunities for learning something new, which is, after all, what scientific experiments are all about. They are simply that--just experiments to see what happens. Even if the experiment "doesn't work," we usually learn something valuable from it.
Wouldn't it be great if all parents responded the same way Robert's mother responded to him? After all, why do we have that phrase, "Don't cry over a little spilt milk." It truly is no big deal. We need to remember that we're raising capable, confident kids--not shiny linoleum floors.
One last story which illustrates the application of this attitude in an adult context was told by Paul Harvey on the radio several years back. A young woman motorist was driving home from work when she snagged her fender on the bumper of another car. She was in tears as she explained that it was a new car, only a few days from the showroom. How was she ever going to explain the damaged car to her husband?
The driver of the other car was sympathetic, but explained that they must note each others license numbers and registration numbers. As the young woman reached into a large brown envelope to retrieve the documents, a piece of paper fell out. In a heavy masculine scrawl were these words: "In case of accident . . . remember, honey, it's you I love, not the car!"
Let's remember that our children's spirits are more important than any material things. When we do, self-esteem and love blossoms and grows more beautifully than any bed of flowers ever could.
I'll end this by reminding you that parenting during acutely stressful time periods adds another element to the job that can be hard to prepare for. We are bogged down by our own emotions and woes such that the slightest mishap by one of our kids will send us over the edge. That said, our children can act as great buffers to that stress. They may not have a handle on all that's going on in the world, nor understand the decisions we have to make as parents to ensure the health and security of our families, but surely you can agree that the joy the bring to our lives outshines so much of that stress. Let them act as children--let them make mistakes and learn from them. After all, it's those same mistakes we made growing up that allowed us to mature into thoughtful, productive, and compassionate adults. And remember, you are raising children, not flowers!
Read more at: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jack-canfield/raise-children-not-flower_b_268607.html
Raise Children, Not Flowers
I'll never forget the story of David, my next door neighbor a while back, who taught me a great lesson one morning as I watched him trying to teach his seven-year-old son how to push the gas-powered lawn mower around the yard. As he was showing him how to turn the mower around at the end of the lawn, his wife Jan called to him to ask a question. When David turned to answer the question, Kelly pushed the lawn mower right through the flower bed at the edge of the lawn--leaving a two-foot wide path leveled to the ground!
David was not happy about this. As soon as he saw what had happened, he began to lose control. David had put a lot of time and effort into making those flower beds the envy of the neighborhood. The moment his voice climbed higher in a semi-rage toward poor Kelly, Jan walked quickly over to him, put her hand on his shoulder and said, "David, please remember...we're raising children, not flowers!"
The moral of this story couldn't be more important today. Each one of us is enduring more stress as we face a recession and a deep financial shakeup that has no end in sight. During times like these it's essential for us parents to remember what our priorities are. Our kids and their self-esteem are more important than any physical object they might break or destroy. The window pane shattered by a mishit baseball, a lamp knocked over by a careless child, or a plate dropped in the kitchen are already broken. The flowers are already dead. All of these things are replaceable; our children are not. We must remember not to add to the destruction by breaking a child's spirit and deadening their sense of aliveness.
Words, especially when yelled in anger, can be very damaging to a child's self-confidence. The child probably already feels bad enough just from seeing the consequences of his or her behavior. Our sons and daughters don't need more guilt and self-doubt heaped upon their already wounded egos. If anything, they need to be reminded that we all make mistakes throughout our life. (Here's an exercise to try: the next time you feel like raising your voice to one of your kids, stop and think about the last time you made a mistake. It probably wasn't too long ago, and you really don't care to be yelled at for that right now.)
More recently, I was buying some new clothes in a men's store and the owner and I started talking about parenting. He told me that while he and his wife and seven-year-old daughter were out at a restaurant for dinner, his daughter knocked over her water glass. It spilled everywhere and messed up her mother's dress as the water flowed over the edge near her seat. After the water was cleaned up without any recriminating remarks from her parents, she looked up and said, "You know, I really want to thank you guys for not being like other parents. Most of my friends' parents would have yelled at them and given them a lecture about paying more attention. Thanks for not doing that!"
Once, when I was having dinner with some friends, a similar incident happened. Their five-year-old son knocked over a glass of milk at the dinner table. When they immediately started in on him, I knocked my glass over, too. When I started to explain how I still knock things over even as an adult, the boy started to beam and the parents seemingly got the message and backed off. How easy it is to forget that we are all still learning.
One of the best stories I've ever heard about "spilt milk" and the lessons of making a mess comes from a famous research scientist who made several very important medical breakthroughs. A newspaper reporter once asked him why he thought he was able to be so much more creative than the average person. What set him so far apart from others?
He responded that, in his opinion, it all came from an experience with his mother, which occurred when he was about two years old. He had been trying to remove a bottle of milk from the refrigerator, when he lost his grip on the slippery bottle and it fell, spilling its contents all over the kitchen floor--a veritable sea of milk! (Thankfully, no glass shattered, but the milk kept flowing out like a river.)
When his mother came into the kitchen, instead of yelling at him, giving him a lecture, or punishing him, she said, "Robert, what a great and wonderful mess you have made! I have rarely seen such a huge puddle of milk. Well, the damage has already been done. Would you like to get down and play in the milk for a few minutes before we clean it up?"
Indeed, he did. After a few minutes his mother said, "You know, Robert, whenever you make a mess like this, eventually you have to clean it up, and restore everything to its proper order. So, how would you like to do that? We could use a sponge, a towel or a mop. What do you prefer?" He chose the sponge and together they cleaned up the spilled milk.
His mother then said, "You know what we have here is a failed experiment in how to effectively carry a big milk bottle with two tiny hands. Let's go out in the back yard and fill the bottle with water and see if you can discover a way to carry it without dropping it." The little boy learned that if he grasped the bottle at the top near the lip with both hands, he could carry it without dropping it. What a wonderful lesson!
This renowned scientist then remarked that it was at that moment he knew he didn't need to be afraid to make mistakes. Instead he learned that mistakes were just opportunities for learning something new, which is, after all, what scientific experiments are all about. They are simply that--just experiments to see what happens. Even if the experiment "doesn't work," we usually learn something valuable from it.
Wouldn't it be great if all parents responded the same way Robert's mother responded to him? After all, why do we have that phrase, "Don't cry over a little spilt milk." It truly is no big deal. We need to remember that we're raising capable, confident kids--not shiny linoleum floors.
One last story which illustrates the application of this attitude in an adult context was told by Paul Harvey on the radio several years back. A young woman motorist was driving home from work when she snagged her fender on the bumper of another car. She was in tears as she explained that it was a new car, only a few days from the showroom. How was she ever going to explain the damaged car to her husband?
The driver of the other car was sympathetic, but explained that they must note each others license numbers and registration numbers. As the young woman reached into a large brown envelope to retrieve the documents, a piece of paper fell out. In a heavy masculine scrawl were these words: "In case of accident . . . remember, honey, it's you I love, not the car!"
Let's remember that our children's spirits are more important than any material things. When we do, self-esteem and love blossoms and grows more beautifully than any bed of flowers ever could.
I'll end this by reminding you that parenting during acutely stressful time periods adds another element to the job that can be hard to prepare for. We are bogged down by our own emotions and woes such that the slightest mishap by one of our kids will send us over the edge. That said, our children can act as great buffers to that stress. They may not have a handle on all that's going on in the world, nor understand the decisions we have to make as parents to ensure the health and security of our families, but surely you can agree that the joy the bring to our lives outshines so much of that stress. Let them act as children--let them make mistakes and learn from them. After all, it's those same mistakes we made growing up that allowed us to mature into thoughtful, productive, and compassionate adults. And remember, you are raising children, not flowers!
Read more at: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jack-canfield/raise-children-not-flower_b_268607.html
Delicious chocolatey miniatures
A month or so I posted a picture of a fudge ribbon cake I'd baked for my friend's birthday. Here they are in miniature form, because I was curious to see how they'd turn out.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, October 23, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Monster mash
My friend Kristi and I got together and made these adorable Frankenstein treats.
They were quick and easy. Just cover a Rice Krispies treat with green frosting, dip into chocolate sprinkles for hair, pipe stitches, eyes and a swiggly smile. We used green, wintergeen Tic Tacs for eyebrows and bolts. Voilà!
Although Kristi and I email on an almost daily basis this is the first time we've gotten together in a year and a half! It's sad how often we let our busy lives get in the way of our relationships.
Our meeting was a bonus for me, I got a beautiful glass party tray etched with snowflakes and a new Scentsy warmer. Yea for late wedding presents and Scentsy orders!!
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Wednesday, October 14, 2009
We like a healthy Heavenly best!
My poor sweet husband woke me up tonight to tell me he was sick. He'd been throwing up, and even more worrisome, throwing up blood as well. Food poisoning? He ate some shrimp for dinner and we're guessing that is the culprit.
I don't like when my sweetheart is sick! I tried to make him as comfortable ad possible since he insisted on sleeping on the bathroom floor. I daresay this decision won't help his back that he tweaked at work Monday.
For now he's snoring and resting peacefully. He already promised to call in sick in the morning. I wanted him to call tonight. I know he's really sick when that's an option!
Heavenly is so rarely sick that I often take my strong and healthy hubby for granted. I like to know what's wrong and I like to know how to fix everything. Fixable or not, I do not enjoy the sight of my sweetheart lying on the hard floor.
A wise pediatrician once gave my mother some indispensible advice:
"Don't worry until there's something to worry about, even then if it can be fixed, don't worry."
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Wednesday, October 7, 2009
my personal drugstore
Here's a picture of all of the drugs I'm currently taking. I assumed that seeing my new doctor would mean new medication, and I was correct. I got some really interesting information from him, namely that I have been taking my thyroid medication incorrectly for the past (however long I've been taking this medication!) Of course this is why my ob/gyn suggested I see an endocrinologist because she is admittedly out of her specialty league. Because I've been taking it incorrectly the vitamins impeded its absorption and cause me to only get about half the prescribed dose.
And to add to the fun the endocrinologist prescribed Metformin (which is the devil's medicine!) for my PCOS. Again, I learned more than my ob/gyn was prepared to teach me. She wouldn't prescribe Metformin to me because I am not diabetic, I am not even close to being pre-diabetic. Luckily my sugar levels are quite low. The endocrinologist however, taught me that while my sugar levels are healthy, there can still be some insulin resistance at the level of the ovaries themselves. So, I am now on the devil's medication! I am hoping it takes care of the PCOS, I'm hoping it does what it's supposed to. I really hate it though! It's awful! It churns and twists my stomach and causes miserably "crappy" side effects!
Hopefully more medications mean more results. Fingers crossed!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
More questions than answers
I imagine that going to the doctor produces results for other people and that I'm the only one who comes away from that experience with more questions than answers. Of course I know this to be entirely false and know that many of you understand exactly how I feel. But in a perfect world, my perfect world, I would be the only to feel this sorrow because I can't stand to watch those I know and love suffer. I am grateful every day that we don't live in my perfect world! Knowing I am not alone buoys me up and gives me strength that has often surpassed my own expectations.
Wednesday I went to the doctor for the first time since my miscarriage in June. Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind the miscarriage was my fault and three months of extended pain is my way of giving myself what I deserve. Or perhaps I've been safely ignoring it so well that I didn't want to face the truth. That my body still aches for the little one I've lost. That my heart is broken. Still. It became abundantly clear as I recounted for her the events of that dreadful summer day, that healing in its fullest form still evades me.
My doctor has come up with and written out an explanation of our plan. A plan for what? I'm not sure. What happens when we finish all of these tests? I'm still no closer to the answer than I was before.
Friday I had an ultrasound, Catherine thought the pains I've been having were most likely caused by a cyst developed from the miscarriage. Not exactly a fun prospect, but at this point any concrete reason why I'm still hurting is welcome. Of course, it's never that easy for me. Typically "nothing significant" would be a great answer, it still leaves me in pain and without a clear cause or solution. So, there will be more medication and more testing. And then after that more medication again.
Next week Heavenly goes to the doctor and I go to see an endocrinologist, who will hopefully, determine how well my thyroid is functioning and adjust my medication. Just one more doctor, and higher dosages of medication that sends tremors through my hands. Where did these people go to school who think an increase in dosage will result in a decrease of symptoms? It's only ever been my experience that unpleasant side effects only increase along with the dose.
Did I mention I've been in more pain since the exam Wednesday and the ultrasound yesterday than I have been in quite a while? That wasn't part of the plan.
It's all part of the plan. According to my doctor's plan, we should know within three weeks... I'm not sure what we'll know. My plan? Hope that by the end of this I'll understand whether the best thing for us is to proceed with Clomid (see I told you, more medication) and try again to get pregnant, or to wait some undetermined time to "try again." And... try to keep the crying to a minimum.
Wednesday I went to the doctor for the first time since my miscarriage in June. Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind the miscarriage was my fault and three months of extended pain is my way of giving myself what I deserve. Or perhaps I've been safely ignoring it so well that I didn't want to face the truth. That my body still aches for the little one I've lost. That my heart is broken. Still. It became abundantly clear as I recounted for her the events of that dreadful summer day, that healing in its fullest form still evades me.
My doctor has come up with and written out an explanation of our plan. A plan for what? I'm not sure. What happens when we finish all of these tests? I'm still no closer to the answer than I was before.
Friday I had an ultrasound, Catherine thought the pains I've been having were most likely caused by a cyst developed from the miscarriage. Not exactly a fun prospect, but at this point any concrete reason why I'm still hurting is welcome. Of course, it's never that easy for me. Typically "nothing significant" would be a great answer, it still leaves me in pain and without a clear cause or solution. So, there will be more medication and more testing. And then after that more medication again.
Next week Heavenly goes to the doctor and I go to see an endocrinologist, who will hopefully, determine how well my thyroid is functioning and adjust my medication. Just one more doctor, and higher dosages of medication that sends tremors through my hands. Where did these people go to school who think an increase in dosage will result in a decrease of symptoms? It's only ever been my experience that unpleasant side effects only increase along with the dose.
Did I mention I've been in more pain since the exam Wednesday and the ultrasound yesterday than I have been in quite a while? That wasn't part of the plan.
It's all part of the plan. According to my doctor's plan, we should know within three weeks... I'm not sure what we'll know. My plan? Hope that by the end of this I'll understand whether the best thing for us is to proceed with Clomid (see I told you, more medication) and try again to get pregnant, or to wait some undetermined time to "try again." And... try to keep the crying to a minimum.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
counting my blessings
Here is Baby Juju, my latest and tiniest blessing. While his little brother was in his mommy's tummy Coco would always say that "Baby Juju" was in his own tummy. I love babies in blue jeans! I want one!
On the right is my beautiful sister who keeps having these little blessings. (Obviously! Because as cute as my brother is, he's definitely a boy.)
I'm so grateful for her because of her I have 5 little blessings I can't have on my own. And she herself has given me and continues to give me blessings beyond my ability to count them.
On the right is my beautiful sister who keeps having these little blessings. (Obviously! Because as cute as my brother is, he's definitely a boy.)
I'm so grateful for her because of her I have 5 little blessings I can't have on my own. And she herself has given me and continues to give me blessings beyond my ability to count them.
Friday, September 11, 2009
The hit bird flutters
So here's the thing... I wrote a post a few days ago about the following fertility question that struck me as very silly.
"How can I tell the difference between semen and fertile cervical fluid?"
I understand this is a valid question. I happened to understand the validity of the question before I posted this. However, whether it's a good question or not, I still think it sounds funny when you read it. I won't apologize for making fun of the question.
However, I will apologize, that some people can't channel their anger appropriately and instead lash out at those who did nothing to deserve it.
Kenna I'm sorry that our anonymous friend (and I use anonymous loosely and the word friend even more so, because we both know they're not very anonymous or friendly) said such terrible things to you when she was supposedly so angry with me. I wish she would have said such terrible things to me instead. Many people don't see your vulnerable side and don't realize just how much they hurt you when they're insensitive. My apologies to you.
I have a favorite seminary/institute teacher and he had a great saying: "The hit bird flutters." What does it mean? Figuratively speaking, if you throw a rock at a bird mid-flight, it will flutter if it's hit. People are the same way, they don't get offended unless what is said applies to them.
My blog wasn't meant to be hurtful, it wasn't striking out at all fertile women, I know and love many women, who unlike me, have been easily blessed with children. It wasn't even meant to strike out at all who have ever asked a stupid question. It was simply referring to that particular question which I found to be ridiculous when I read it.
"How can I tell the difference between semen and fertile cervical fluid?"
I understand this is a valid question. I happened to understand the validity of the question before I posted this. However, whether it's a good question or not, I still think it sounds funny when you read it. I won't apologize for making fun of the question.
However, I will apologize, that some people can't channel their anger appropriately and instead lash out at those who did nothing to deserve it.
Kenna I'm sorry that our anonymous friend (and I use anonymous loosely and the word friend even more so, because we both know they're not very anonymous or friendly) said such terrible things to you when she was supposedly so angry with me. I wish she would have said such terrible things to me instead. Many people don't see your vulnerable side and don't realize just how much they hurt you when they're insensitive. My apologies to you.
I have a favorite seminary/institute teacher and he had a great saying: "The hit bird flutters." What does it mean? Figuratively speaking, if you throw a rock at a bird mid-flight, it will flutter if it's hit. People are the same way, they don't get offended unless what is said applies to them.
My blog wasn't meant to be hurtful, it wasn't striking out at all fertile women, I know and love many women, who unlike me, have been easily blessed with children. It wasn't even meant to strike out at all who have ever asked a stupid question. It was simply referring to that particular question which I found to be ridiculous when I read it.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Happy Birthday Tessa!
What's better than your husband having a super cool, entertaining best friend? When that friend marries the coolest girl ever and you get a new best friend too! This weekend I made this decadent chocolate marble cake to celebrate Tessa's 21st birthday. Hey Ben thanks for being smart enough to marry such an awesome girl! And Tessa, thanks for putting up with Ben!
Friday, September 4, 2009
Why are dumb people fertile?
Warning: The following post is really funny, but some people may find it gross. Read at your own risk. (it's not that bad, I'm just giving a heads up)
This morning I was flipping through tips on fertilityfriend.com and ran across one that made me laugh. It was one of those questions that made me cock my head to one side and say "huh?"
"How can I tell the difference between fertile cervical fluid and sperm?"
I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that if you don't know how to tell the difference, ie; sperm comes from a boy, you probably shouldn't be having sex and you DEFINITELY shouldn't be procreating!
Honestly, don't you think a better time to be checking the consistency of your cervical fluid would be BEFORE sex?
I'm just saying.
Of course, this person will probably have no problem getting pregnant and have plenty of children who grow up equally ignorant. You know, since this whole fertility thing is so fair and all.
This morning I was flipping through tips on fertilityfriend.com and ran across one that made me laugh. It was one of those questions that made me cock my head to one side and say "huh?"
"How can I tell the difference between fertile cervical fluid and sperm?"
I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that if you don't know how to tell the difference, ie; sperm comes from a boy, you probably shouldn't be having sex and you DEFINITELY shouldn't be procreating!
Honestly, don't you think a better time to be checking the consistency of your cervical fluid would be BEFORE sex?
I'm just saying.
Of course, this person will probably have no problem getting pregnant and have plenty of children who grow up equally ignorant. You know, since this whole fertility thing is so fair and all.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Waiting on the Lord
First of all, I have to tell you that some of these words came from someone else, I can't honestly take credit for them.
I found a great book a few weeks ago, one of those books you finish reading and want to immediately start over again. I found it at Macey's, it's published by Deseret Book, so I'm sure you can find it there. And you should too.
I Hate It When Exercise Is the Answer: A Fitness Program for the Soul
By: Emily Watts
I've heard her speak and have bought several of her books for my mom and sister, this is the first I've bought for myself. It won't be the last.
In a chapter 25 called "Wisdom from Gracie: An Exercise in Waiting on the Lord" the author tells of finding a postcard with this saying attributed to Gracie Allen: "Never put a period where God has placed a comma."
"Never put a period where God has placed a comma." It had immediate appeal for me as a person for whom punctuation has been a profession, but its meaning has since gone far beyond the 'editing connection.'
I like closure. I like to put the period on the sentence of a situation and move on. But life doesn't work that way very often. The Lord frequently invites us to trust Him, to hold on, to endure, to wait and see what He has in mind. As Psalm 27:14 tells us, 'Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.'
One of my problems is that, when my patience is tried, sometimes I attempt to jump too quickly to the hindsight. I trust that things will work out all right, and I can wait a little while for events to unfold, but often I try to put the period in places that were obviously meant for a comma. I think I see God's purposes when really we're not there yet."
Patience and waiting on the Lord are difficult for my finite mind to grasp, even more difficult to execute. And the concept of periods vs. commas becomes increasingly ironic to me when literal periods continue to dash my hopes of ever making it beyond the never ending comma of infertility.
(I swear this post started out as a positive idea... where did I get off track?)
Sigh... how to get back on track?
I've been trying to decide what my life would be like if I could remind myself that "...this too shall pass." So I am trying to be patient, because I'm certain that's one of the attributes my Father in Heaven is trying desperately to teach me. The idea is much simpler than the execution.
I found a great book a few weeks ago, one of those books you finish reading and want to immediately start over again. I found it at Macey's, it's published by Deseret Book, so I'm sure you can find it there. And you should too.
I Hate It When Exercise Is the Answer: A Fitness Program for the Soul
By: Emily Watts
I've heard her speak and have bought several of her books for my mom and sister, this is the first I've bought for myself. It won't be the last.
In a chapter 25 called "Wisdom from Gracie: An Exercise in Waiting on the Lord" the author tells of finding a postcard with this saying attributed to Gracie Allen: "Never put a period where God has placed a comma."
"Never put a period where God has placed a comma." It had immediate appeal for me as a person for whom punctuation has been a profession, but its meaning has since gone far beyond the 'editing connection.'
I like closure. I like to put the period on the sentence of a situation and move on. But life doesn't work that way very often. The Lord frequently invites us to trust Him, to hold on, to endure, to wait and see what He has in mind. As Psalm 27:14 tells us, 'Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord.'
One of my problems is that, when my patience is tried, sometimes I attempt to jump too quickly to the hindsight. I trust that things will work out all right, and I can wait a little while for events to unfold, but often I try to put the period in places that were obviously meant for a comma. I think I see God's purposes when really we're not there yet."
Patience and waiting on the Lord are difficult for my finite mind to grasp, even more difficult to execute. And the concept of periods vs. commas becomes increasingly ironic to me when literal periods continue to dash my hopes of ever making it beyond the never ending comma of infertility.
(I swear this post started out as a positive idea... where did I get off track?)
Sigh... how to get back on track?
I've been trying to decide what my life would be like if I could remind myself that "...this too shall pass." So I am trying to be patient, because I'm certain that's one of the attributes my Father in Heaven is trying desperately to teach me. The idea is much simpler than the execution.
Has it really been 2 years?
Tomorrow Heavenly and I are going to see my friend who is finally home from his mission. I can't believe how fast time flies! I guess since Heavenly and I just celebrated our 2nd anniversary I should have realized it was coming soon. After all, he came to our sealing just before he left. 
Kyle, Chad and Jake had a surprise gift for me, and even got Heavenly in on the action. Kyle and Chad played and they all sang "Dream" by The Everly Brothers. The only time I teared up the entire day.
Kyle also sat at the guest book at our reception.
I still remember being nearly as excited for him to be there as I was that I was getting married. Ours was the first sealing he'd ever been to and he was so excited to be in the temple that day.
Thank heaven for wonderful friends!
(Yes I understand how pathetic it is that I've written about my friend coming home from his mission before I've done anything about my anniversary... such is life.)
Kyle, Chad and Jake had a surprise gift for me, and even got Heavenly in on the action. Kyle and Chad played and they all sang "Dream" by The Everly Brothers. The only time I teared up the entire day.
Kyle also sat at the guest book at our reception.
I still remember being nearly as excited for him to be there as I was that I was getting married. Ours was the first sealing he'd ever been to and he was so excited to be in the temple that day.
Thank heaven for wonderful friends!
(Yes I understand how pathetic it is that I've written about my friend coming home from his mission before I've done anything about my anniversary... such is life.)
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Pirate Cake
Here are a few pictures of the pirate cake I made this weekend for my friend/coworker. (Sorry for the one that's sideways) It was for his daughters' birthdays who are big fans of Pirates of the Caribbean. I think it turned out pretty snazzy.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Belly badge light!
Saturday morning Heavenly and I were watching cartoons with my nephew Coco. I was excited when Heavenly told me They were watching Care Bears. I'll admit they don't look the same, graphics have come so far and yet, new Care Bears look much less like bears. Is it a difference in graphics, or could it be that cartoonists now are much more concerned about the quantity of work they produce to trifle with quality?
Aside from my annoyance at the lack of detail put into the new age excuse for Care Bears, I had a much bigger problem. Instead of the classic and irreplaceable "Care Bear Stare!" they work together by saying "belly badge light!" and I'm thinking, what's up with that? Who is it that grew up wanting to be a cartoonist, inspired by the classics, and thought it would be a good idea to ruin every cartoon I hold dear? Who does that?
At least the REAL shows are coming to DVD so I can enjoy them in all their vintage splendor.
Aside from my annoyance at the lack of detail put into the new age excuse for Care Bears, I had a much bigger problem. Instead of the classic and irreplaceable "Care Bear Stare!" they work together by saying "belly badge light!" and I'm thinking, what's up with that? Who is it that grew up wanting to be a cartoonist, inspired by the classics, and thought it would be a good idea to ruin every cartoon I hold dear? Who does that?
At least the REAL shows are coming to DVD so I can enjoy them in all their vintage splendor.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Everybody's workin' for the weekend!
Today is my Thursday, tomorrow is my Friday. It's not that I don't like my job, I love it, most of the time. I'm just really excited for my weekend. I have no plans. None. And that makes me really happy. Maybe I'll get some cleaning done, maybe I'll get more unpacking and organizing done. Or maybe I'll just hang out and do nothing. That sounds delightful!
Thursday, August 13, 2009
A stellar performance!
Last night (or should I say early this morning) I watched the Perseid meteor shower with my mom, my husband and my niece and nephews. (Even my dad woke up for the last of our intergalactic viewing) When it didn't start until midnight I wondered whether the kiddos would even make it. They were excited by the prospect of seeing a meteor shower and completely undaunted at the task of staying up several hours past their bedtime! We went outside just before midnight and saw beams of light streak through the sky almost immediately.
I don't know if I'll ever be more entertained watching a meteor shower again, that's the benefit of such adorable company! Each of the kids watched in their own way.
Coco(2) made it until just before midnight when he fell asleep listening to "Strawberry Shortcake and the Deep Dark Woods" for the third time in a day. He spent the time asleep with Grandpa on his bed. I don't think a meteor shower would have been very impressive to a 2 year old.
Mashuga(6) and I started by laying on top of the patio table with the others gathered around on comfy patio chairs. Then soon found ourselves cuddled up together on blankets spread across the cool summer grass. Mashuga (6) was so excited he could hardly contain himself (which is how he is about everything that excites him!) and he saw meteors that were naked to the un-six-year-old eye. Aside from the meteors the rest of us saw, he pointed randomly this way and that as balls of fire dashed across the sky of his own imagination. He talked animatedly and his plethora of "What ifs..." about whether the meteors were really UFOs or what we would do if those same UFOs landed inches above Grandma's house could be heard throughout the entire show. (And perhaps throughout the neighborhood too.) Mashuga was the only one who made it as long as the adults and I think he made it on sheer willpower. He spun circles on the patio table trying to see in every direction so he wouldn't miss a meteor. He would sit still only so long before zooming across the yard for "pretend fights" with the solar light that was still alight.
Scud(8) made it a few minutes before heading back into the house to veg in front of the TV some more. Then he moaned and groaned when Grandma made him come outside with everyone else. His protests continued as he laid on the grass, wrapped like a burrito in his favorite blanket. "This is boring... I'm bored... I want to watch TV!" We all made it perfectly clear that his only other option was to go inside and go to bed so he stayed begrudgingly. When his cries of boredom could no longer be heard I checked and found him fast asleep. I think he enjoyed the meteors he did see, but the waiting was more than he could stand.
Kaitybean(11) was enthralled and thoroughly enjoyed the entire thing. She's getting so old and getting to be such good company. The in between time was no big deal for her, she watched the twinkling stars and talked happily about the sounds of the rushing August breeze as it swirled through the yard and blew the blanket over her, obstructing her views. When the first blanket became "too crowded," she brought more and invited me to share. I left Mashuga cuddling with Heavenly (and insisting he wasn't cold) and laid with Kaitybean for a different view. While we watched the sky with anticipation she talked about germs and wondered whether germs had their own germs, and what if we were really only a tiny speck to others? (The fact that I'd watched "Horton Hears a Who" with Coco earlier that day made this prospect much funnier.) I left her on the ground to resume my watching by Mom in the patio chairs and her inquiries became quieter and quieter until we realized she too was asleep on the lawn.
This particular meteor shower may happen every year, but my experience was once in a life time.
I don't know if I'll ever be more entertained watching a meteor shower again, that's the benefit of such adorable company! Each of the kids watched in their own way.
Coco(2) made it until just before midnight when he fell asleep listening to "Strawberry Shortcake and the Deep Dark Woods" for the third time in a day. He spent the time asleep with Grandpa on his bed. I don't think a meteor shower would have been very impressive to a 2 year old.
Mashuga(6) and I started by laying on top of the patio table with the others gathered around on comfy patio chairs. Then soon found ourselves cuddled up together on blankets spread across the cool summer grass. Mashuga (6) was so excited he could hardly contain himself (which is how he is about everything that excites him!) and he saw meteors that were naked to the un-six-year-old eye. Aside from the meteors the rest of us saw, he pointed randomly this way and that as balls of fire dashed across the sky of his own imagination. He talked animatedly and his plethora of "What ifs..." about whether the meteors were really UFOs or what we would do if those same UFOs landed inches above Grandma's house could be heard throughout the entire show. (And perhaps throughout the neighborhood too.) Mashuga was the only one who made it as long as the adults and I think he made it on sheer willpower. He spun circles on the patio table trying to see in every direction so he wouldn't miss a meteor. He would sit still only so long before zooming across the yard for "pretend fights" with the solar light that was still alight.
Scud(8) made it a few minutes before heading back into the house to veg in front of the TV some more. Then he moaned and groaned when Grandma made him come outside with everyone else. His protests continued as he laid on the grass, wrapped like a burrito in his favorite blanket. "This is boring... I'm bored... I want to watch TV!" We all made it perfectly clear that his only other option was to go inside and go to bed so he stayed begrudgingly. When his cries of boredom could no longer be heard I checked and found him fast asleep. I think he enjoyed the meteors he did see, but the waiting was more than he could stand.
Kaitybean(11) was enthralled and thoroughly enjoyed the entire thing. She's getting so old and getting to be such good company. The in between time was no big deal for her, she watched the twinkling stars and talked happily about the sounds of the rushing August breeze as it swirled through the yard and blew the blanket over her, obstructing her views. When the first blanket became "too crowded," she brought more and invited me to share. I left Mashuga cuddling with Heavenly (and insisting he wasn't cold) and laid with Kaitybean for a different view. While we watched the sky with anticipation she talked about germs and wondered whether germs had their own germs, and what if we were really only a tiny speck to others? (The fact that I'd watched "Horton Hears a Who" with Coco earlier that day made this prospect much funnier.) I left her on the ground to resume my watching by Mom in the patio chairs and her inquiries became quieter and quieter until we realized she too was asleep on the lawn.
This particular meteor shower may happen every year, but my experience was once in a life time.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
When I do this I can see my cheeks!
I was sitting my sisters the kitchen when her 11 year old, Kaitybean, walked in and said, "When I do this I can see my cheeks!" When I turned around this is what I saw...
And then Mashuga had to do it...
and Coco...
and Scud too...
Is there any question why I love these kiddos? They make my heart happy!
And then Mashuga had to do it...
and Coco...
and Scud too...
Is there any question why I love these kiddos? They make my heart happy!
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
My heart hurts.
Tonight as Heavenly and I walked through Target I heard a baby crying and crying and crying. The sound made my heart hurt. Bad.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
How to spoil your husband in 4(ish) easy steps (G rated)
Step 1: Bake a Ninja Turtle cake for his birthday, outline with chocolate frosting.
Step 2: Pipe in and smooth eyes and tongue.
Step 3: Using the color for his favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, pipe in stars for the mask.
Step 4: Use green frosting and pipe stars in to fill out the rest of the turtle's green skin.
Unfortunately I didn't get a picture of my happy birthday boy with his cake. I'll have to remember that next time. (I doubt I'll be making another one just so I can get a picutre!)
Step 2: Pipe in and smooth eyes and tongue.
Step 3: Using the color for his favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, pipe in stars for the mask.
Step 4: Use green frosting and pipe stars in to fill out the rest of the turtle's green skin.
Unfortunately I didn't get a picture of my happy birthday boy with his cake. I'll have to remember that next time. (I doubt I'll be making another one just so I can get a picutre!)
Thursday, July 9, 2009
A heavenly birthday
Heavenly told me a week or so ago that he doesn't want to get older. It was funny to me because men usually aren't conscientious of their age, especially because, to me, 27 seems like such a "whatever" kind of age. Some of you may know, I had my birthday last month and am already 27. I'm already older than Heavenly and always will be, but if he stays 26 and I keep getting older he'll never grow old with me. (sort of Twilight-esque) After I mentioned that to him, he agreed to this one last birthday, and we'll both stay 27 forever.So, my heavenly hunk, here's to today, your first 27th birthday. And here's to celebrating an eternity filled with 27th birthdays to come.
He knows
When referring to the Savior's atoning sacrifice, we often remember it as a sacrifice for sins. We forget, I forget, that His perfect sacrifice did more than pay the price for sin. He also experienced pain in all its forms so that we might turn to him for all our problems.
The perfect thing about a perfect atonement, no one, no matter what the sin, no matter what the trial, is exempt from it! So, if you're feeling like no one understands how you feel,(and trust me, I've been there... I'm there now!) He knows.
For our benefit, the poet wrote:
In golden youth when seems the earth
A summer-land of singing mirth,
When souls are glad and hearts are light,
And not a shadow lurks in sight,
We do not know it, but there lies
Somewhere veiled ’neath evening skies
A garden which we all must see—
The garden of Gethsemane. …
Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams
Bridged over by our broken dreams;
Behind the misty caps of years,
Beyond the great salt fount of tears,
The garden lies. Strive, as you may,
You cannot miss it in your way;
All paths that have been, or shall be
Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.
The perfect thing about a perfect atonement, no one, no matter what the sin, no matter what the trial, is exempt from it! So, if you're feeling like no one understands how you feel,(and trust me, I've been there... I'm there now!) He knows.
For our benefit, the poet wrote:
In golden youth when seems the earth
A summer-land of singing mirth,
When souls are glad and hearts are light,
And not a shadow lurks in sight,
We do not know it, but there lies
Somewhere veiled ’neath evening skies
A garden which we all must see—
The garden of Gethsemane. …
Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams
Bridged over by our broken dreams;
Behind the misty caps of years,
Beyond the great salt fount of tears,
The garden lies. Strive, as you may,
You cannot miss it in your way;
All paths that have been, or shall be
Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Sensitivity comes through awareness
Ana Nelson Shaw, “Being Sensitive to Couples without Children,” Ensign, Aug 2000, 61
• Remember that the circumstances in which infertility occurs vary greatly from couple to couple. Infertility may result from a health condition on the part of either or both spouses. Sometimes couples become infertile after they already have a child or children. Some have married later or waited to try to have children, and some have not. Regardless, all deserve compassion and freedom from stereotypes.
• For some sensitive situations, such as baby showers, it might be wise to ask first whether a person wants to be invited. You don’t have to handle infertile people with kid gloves; just ask how they feel and if they are up to certain events. But be sure to include them in Church and family activities.
• Try not to second-guess a couple’s medical treatments or other actions. They have most likely been careful and prayerful in making difficult decisions. Trust that they have learned what is best for their family. Remember that decisions about building a family are between a husband and wife and the Lord.
• Recognize positive contributions that are not related to childbearing or rearing. Everyone needs to feel valuable, and this is sometimes hard—particularly in Latter-day Saint culture—when one cannot become a parent.
• Realize that infertile people can be sensitive to the undertones of your comments, and try to be careful about what you say. For example, saying “You’ll get pregnant if you just relax” implies that you think infertility is the couple’s own fault, when in reality it is usually a medical condition not caused by stress. “You’ll get pregnant as soon as you adopt” implies that you see adoption as merely a path to having a biological child, when it is actually just as valid a path to parenthood as pregnancy. Even reassurances such as “It will happen in the Lord’s time” can be painful for people who are preparing themselves for the possibility that they will not have biological children during this lifetime.
• Express your support and love with simple, positive, nonintrusive comments such as “I love you” or “I have been praying for you.” Your genuine care and concern are needed by those experiencing the trial of infertility.
• Remember that the circumstances in which infertility occurs vary greatly from couple to couple. Infertility may result from a health condition on the part of either or both spouses. Sometimes couples become infertile after they already have a child or children. Some have married later or waited to try to have children, and some have not. Regardless, all deserve compassion and freedom from stereotypes.
• For some sensitive situations, such as baby showers, it might be wise to ask first whether a person wants to be invited. You don’t have to handle infertile people with kid gloves; just ask how they feel and if they are up to certain events. But be sure to include them in Church and family activities.
• Try not to second-guess a couple’s medical treatments or other actions. They have most likely been careful and prayerful in making difficult decisions. Trust that they have learned what is best for their family. Remember that decisions about building a family are between a husband and wife and the Lord.
• Recognize positive contributions that are not related to childbearing or rearing. Everyone needs to feel valuable, and this is sometimes hard—particularly in Latter-day Saint culture—when one cannot become a parent.
• Realize that infertile people can be sensitive to the undertones of your comments, and try to be careful about what you say. For example, saying “You’ll get pregnant if you just relax” implies that you think infertility is the couple’s own fault, when in reality it is usually a medical condition not caused by stress. “You’ll get pregnant as soon as you adopt” implies that you see adoption as merely a path to having a biological child, when it is actually just as valid a path to parenthood as pregnancy. Even reassurances such as “It will happen in the Lord’s time” can be painful for people who are preparing themselves for the possibility that they will not have biological children during this lifetime.
• Express your support and love with simple, positive, nonintrusive comments such as “I love you” or “I have been praying for you.” Your genuine care and concern are needed by those experiencing the trial of infertility.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Contentment? Not today.
"Contentment: Inspirational insight for the LDS mother"
This is the title of a book I passed while walking through Walmart. I didn't see any books offering insight for those LDS women struggling with infertility. There is no "Chicken Soup for the childless LDS woman's soul." So I wonder, what about the rest of us?
Family and friends offer words of comfort, words like"It will happen." "...in the Lord's time." "Everything happens for a reason." "We were married for 3 years before we had... and another 4 after that until..." Words spoken in love, with the best of intentions, splinter the shards of my already broken heart and taste like bile in my mouth.
I know all too well that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. In mid-May "Congratulations, you're pregnant," from my doctor felt more like a cruel joke than welcome news.
It is difficult to find contentment when some mothers are lying in a hospital room counting perfect fingers and tiny toes, and I clutch only my cramping belly and aching heart. In the end my hospital room looks more like a horror movie, soaked crimson with my lost blood and with it lost hope. The agonizing pain of my fruitless labor made sharper as I leave the hospital with empty arms and empty womb.
Contentment you say? Perhaps some day it will find me, but not today.
This is the title of a book I passed while walking through Walmart. I didn't see any books offering insight for those LDS women struggling with infertility. There is no "Chicken Soup for the childless LDS woman's soul." So I wonder, what about the rest of us?
Family and friends offer words of comfort, words like"It will happen." "...in the Lord's time." "Everything happens for a reason." "We were married for 3 years before we had... and another 4 after that until..." Words spoken in love, with the best of intentions, splinter the shards of my already broken heart and taste like bile in my mouth.
I know all too well that the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. In mid-May "Congratulations, you're pregnant," from my doctor felt more like a cruel joke than welcome news.
It is difficult to find contentment when some mothers are lying in a hospital room counting perfect fingers and tiny toes, and I clutch only my cramping belly and aching heart. In the end my hospital room looks more like a horror movie, soaked crimson with my lost blood and with it lost hope. The agonizing pain of my fruitless labor made sharper as I leave the hospital with empty arms and empty womb.
Contentment you say? Perhaps some day it will find me, but not today.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Moving vs. Vacationing
I've decided one thing I like about moving, you pack EVERYTHING! I get really anxious when I pack for a vacation and (ask my Dad because it makes him crazy) tend to over pack. Over pack is probably an understatement. I just get so worried I'll forget something or a situation will come up and I'll need something I have at home, so I bring it along too. When you're packing to move you don't have to worry about that because you entirely empty out your apartment or your house until it is devoid of any personal belonging. Then you clean every nook and cranny so even if you missed something by chance, you're likely to find it.
No worrying about forgotten cameras or packing enough underwear, you just take it all.
On a happy note, I ordered an Ultra Shark steam blaster last week and it came a few days early! I've been excited to get it and use it on my new tile and hardwood floors, now I'm even more excited because I get to use it to clean my old apartment!
No worrying about forgotten cameras or packing enough underwear, you just take it all.
On a happy note, I ordered an Ultra Shark steam blaster last week and it came a few days early! I've been excited to get it and use it on my new tile and hardwood floors, now I'm even more excited because I get to use it to clean my old apartment!
A few questions I have.
How can two people who built a lovin' home,
Try for years and never have a child of their own?
When somewhere out there tonight,
There's a baby no-one's holdin' tight:
In need of love.
To me, that don't add up.
But I wasn't there the day you filled up the oceans.
I didn't get to see you hang the stars in the sky.
So I don't mean to second guess you,
Or criticize what I don't understand.
These are just a few questions I have.
--A Few Questions by Clay Walker
Try for years and never have a child of their own?
When somewhere out there tonight,
There's a baby no-one's holdin' tight:
In need of love.
To me, that don't add up.
But I wasn't there the day you filled up the oceans.
I didn't get to see you hang the stars in the sky.
So I don't mean to second guess you,
Or criticize what I don't understand.
These are just a few questions I have.
--A Few Questions by Clay Walker
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
New House!
Here are a couple of pictures of our new house. I'll post some of the inside when we're finished moving in and painting.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
What's with the red square?
Heavenly and I recently bought a new house, and in our new formal room there is a solitary red square/rectangle. Heavenly and I, along with Brandon our real estate agent had a grand time coming up with our own ideas why someone would paint a single solitary rectangle of red on the wall without finishing the entire wall. Here are some of our top reasons:
1. Testing the color before they painted the upstairs bedroom
2. Leftover paint after painting the bedroom
3. Wanted to paint the whole wall, but decided they were too tired after painting an entire bedroom
4. Frame for a picture
5. They thought a red circle would be too weird
Here's the deal, it was fun coming up with our ideas, but I want to know what you think. Leave me a comment and let me know why you think the previous home owners would have painted a solitary square instead of finishing the entire wall.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Sometimes God gives us people to show how much He loves us.
Throughout all of my moves I have kept a simple card given to me by my sister. I can't remember now why she gave it to me in the first place. I run across it every once in a while and it reminds me that I do not have to face my struggles alone.
The front is a picture of two little girls decked out in rain hats, ponchos and galoshes underneath a great big umbrella. Inside is the simple phrase "Until the sun comes out again for you, my umbrella's big enough for two."
At the end of my sister's loving, hope-filled words she wrote a list of scripture passages and this quote:
"... the greatest anchor to your soul, in time of trouble, in time of temptation, in times of sickness, in times of indecision, in times of your struggles and work, (is that) you can know with a certainty that defies all doubt that God lives."
--Pres. Harold B. Lee
Read:
Doctrine & Covenants 121-122
2 Corinthians 4:8-9 We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted but not forsaken, cast down but not destroyed.
John 14:27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
John 16:33 These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.
John 14:18 I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.
I am grateful for my knowledge that God lives, that He loves me. And in times of trials when I am faced with challenges sure to break my soul, those struggles which cause me to doubt whether God really does hear me and answer me.... I am eternally grateful to Him because He gave me a family who loves me and a sister who shares her umbrella.
The front is a picture of two little girls decked out in rain hats, ponchos and galoshes underneath a great big umbrella. Inside is the simple phrase "Until the sun comes out again for you, my umbrella's big enough for two."
At the end of my sister's loving, hope-filled words she wrote a list of scripture passages and this quote:
"... the greatest anchor to your soul, in time of trouble, in time of temptation, in times of sickness, in times of indecision, in times of your struggles and work, (is that) you can know with a certainty that defies all doubt that God lives."
--Pres. Harold B. Lee
Read:
Doctrine & Covenants 121-122
2 Corinthians 4:8-9 We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted but not forsaken, cast down but not destroyed.
John 14:27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
John 16:33 These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.
John 14:18 I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.
I am grateful for my knowledge that God lives, that He loves me. And in times of trials when I am faced with challenges sure to break my soul, those struggles which cause me to doubt whether God really does hear me and answer me.... I am eternally grateful to Him because He gave me a family who loves me and a sister who shares her umbrella.
Monday, June 8, 2009
What would your cardboard sign say today?
If I had a cardboard sign today, mine would say "Will work for prayers."
I'm not ready to write about why, but I really need your prayers. Please, try to remember Heavenly and I as you pray. I know I'll write about it later, right now I'm just too drained and emotionally raw to be able to put it into words.
I'm not ready to write about why, but I really need your prayers. Please, try to remember Heavenly and I as you pray. I know I'll write about it later, right now I'm just too drained and emotionally raw to be able to put it into words.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Falling apart...
I'm convinced my Heavenly Father gave me a husband with strong hands and strong arms, who holds me firmly when things go wrong, to keep me from falling apart.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Up to snuff...
I used the phrase "up to snuff" in my last post, does anyone know what this means or more to the point, where it came from? Maybe it's something like a group of guys passing around a can of snuff and they were "up to snuff" if it was their turn for the can. Who knows.
Friday, May 22, 2009
And by the way...you have E. Coli
The nurse from my doctor's office called yesterday. She told me I have E. Coli. How strange is that? I went for a UTI and found out I have food poisoning. I guess this explains why I felt sick all weekend and am still not feeling up to snuff.
I was down and feeling sick both Friday night and Saturday day, so I can't even blame McKenna for choosing Joe's Crab Shack for her birthday dinner. Darn it! You know I love you Kenna, I've never stepped foot in there for anyone else!
Luckily the doctor seems to think that the antibiotics I'm already taking for the other infection should knock out the E. Coli too. Perhaps my body has sort of malfunctioning reject chip that causes it to get strange illnesses no one else around me seems to get. I thought I should be grateful for the UTI since it's how I found out about the E. Coli, until I read on the CDC website that some strains of E. Coli can actually cause them.
I was down and feeling sick both Friday night and Saturday day, so I can't even blame McKenna for choosing Joe's Crab Shack for her birthday dinner. Darn it! You know I love you Kenna, I've never stepped foot in there for anyone else!
Luckily the doctor seems to think that the antibiotics I'm already taking for the other infection should knock out the E. Coli too. Perhaps my body has sort of malfunctioning reject chip that causes it to get strange illnesses no one else around me seems to get. I thought I should be grateful for the UTI since it's how I found out about the E. Coli, until I read on the CDC website that some strains of E. Coli can actually cause them.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Just call me I.P. Orangeley
I woke up at 3:30 in the morning Monday morning, randomly. There was nothing out of the ordinary about that or the fact that I laid in bed and read my book instead of going back to sleep like a normal person would. However, I realized after a while that I felt anything but normal.
For the last couple of days of my weekend I felt nauseated and had a horrible headache, but just figured it stemmed from staying up too late and lack of sleep. Nausea gave way to a urinary tract infection and all its miserable glory!
I've finally learned my lesson about waiting to take care of it after several UTIs turned to horrific kidney infections, the last resulting in my miscarriage last November. So I got into the doctor first thing and got antibiotics and that sweet little brown pill that makes your pee look like orange Kool-aid or Tang.
When our friend found out the medicine has the interesting side effect of altered urine color, he was sorely disappointed at it being spring and therefore no snow on the ground. (Boys!) Whatever silly side effect, I was grateful that its other side effect is that my pain went away and I could finally cope.
It's 3:45 Wednesday morning, again I can't sleep, but at least it's not frequent/painful urination keeping me awake this time.
For the last couple of days of my weekend I felt nauseated and had a horrible headache, but just figured it stemmed from staying up too late and lack of sleep. Nausea gave way to a urinary tract infection and all its miserable glory!
I've finally learned my lesson about waiting to take care of it after several UTIs turned to horrific kidney infections, the last resulting in my miscarriage last November. So I got into the doctor first thing and got antibiotics and that sweet little brown pill that makes your pee look like orange Kool-aid or Tang.
When our friend found out the medicine has the interesting side effect of altered urine color, he was sorely disappointed at it being spring and therefore no snow on the ground. (Boys!) Whatever silly side effect, I was grateful that its other side effect is that my pain went away and I could finally cope.
It's 3:45 Wednesday morning, again I can't sleep, but at least it's not frequent/painful urination keeping me awake this time.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
How to get kids to eat their vegetables
If vegetables tasted like this, I would totally eat them!
My co-worker was craving sugar and thought it would be a good idea to bring us each a "single serve" brownie cake. "Single serve" is what they call it, I think 4 people could get their fill on it. It's pure evil, dang it!
My co-worker was craving sugar and thought it would be a good idea to bring us each a "single serve" brownie cake. "Single serve" is what they call it, I think 4 people could get their fill on it. It's pure evil, dang it!
Bake Sale
Today there was a bake sale at our work in order for the incentive committee to raise money for our summer party. My mom decided it would be fun to make some more pupcakes. They're so cute and easy, but time consuming and make your hand hurt from all that piping. So after a dozen of them we decided to do something different with the other dozen. I made cute sunflowers by piping sunny yellow petals and filling the center in with mini-chocolate chips.
I also made a giant cupcake. When I couldn't figure out how to decorate the whole thing I decided I'd make a giant Hostess cupcake. I scooped out the center and filled it with whipped cream, then frosted the whole top chocolate and did cute white swirls across the top. Kenna suggested last time I made a giant cupcake that I should put something next to it to show how big it is, so I put the regular Hostess cupcake next to it. Problem is, if you hollow out the center of a cake and fill it with whipped cream you need to put something over that hole. Whipped cream is obviously not a strong enough base for frosting.
With baking you live and learn.... and you get to eat your mistakes! (clearly I make a lot of mistakes!)
I also made a giant cupcake. When I couldn't figure out how to decorate the whole thing I decided I'd make a giant Hostess cupcake. I scooped out the center and filled it with whipped cream, then frosted the whole top chocolate and did cute white swirls across the top. Kenna suggested last time I made a giant cupcake that I should put something next to it to show how big it is, so I put the regular Hostess cupcake next to it. Problem is, if you hollow out the center of a cake and fill it with whipped cream you need to put something over that hole. Whipped cream is obviously not a strong enough base for frosting.
With baking you live and learn.... and you get to eat your mistakes! (clearly I make a lot of mistakes!)
Next time, how about a big NEON sign with flashing lights?
Heavenly and I did something very adult and very scary tonight. We put an offer on a house, our very first house. I'm a little bit of everything (excited, nervous, settled and terrified) all rolled into one. I thought making a decision to buy our first car was difficult enough and it was about 10 times cheaper than a house!
We talked about it and thought about it, we prayed about it and stewed about it, we went to the temple to serve others and hoped for answers to our questions. I didn't feel at all settled after the temple, I felt peaceful like I always do after I leave the temple. I just didn't feel like I got a concrete answer from my Heavenly Father. At least not the kind of answer I was looking for. I wanted a solid "Yes" or "No," seriously I would have settled for "Not right now." I just didn't feel like I got any of that. My real estate agent, who is also my cousin and has been excellent to work with us, called a couple of times to find out if we'd decided anything. He told me to pray hard and that it never hurts to "sleep on it." I just didn't know how long he'd wait for me to make a decision and I didn't want to make a decision if I wasn't getting an answer from Heavenly Father because I didn't want to give the wrong one.
I added up our monthly income and subtracted all of our bills, even factoring in tithing, groceries and gas for the car. Having it all in black and white helped me to see if we could really do this. Heavenly shook his head a lot, but didn't say much other than that. I didn't know if he thought what I came up with meant we could afford it or if we should keep looking. (Men are so annoying sometimes!) Yesterday I was talking to my sister Haha, and told her about my findings. I told her we still have money left over every month after gas and bills and food. She was much more positive and said that it sounded great, that we could easily do it. (I don't know about easily, but I appreciated her enthusiasm.)
After talking to Heavenly about Haha's reaction, he told me that's how he felt too he just hadn't said anything. (See what I mean about how annoying men can be?) So I called Brandon and told him the decision we'd come up with, that we'd like to put an offer on the house.
As soon as I made the decision and said it out loud I felt the wave of relief and positive assurance I'd been waiting for. Sometimes our Father in Heaven doesn't tell us "yes" and he doesn't tell us "no," and he doesn't even tell us "not right now." Sometimes he allows us to make a decision for ourselves and then he tells us whether that decision was the correct one. Our Father in Heaven helps us to grow by allowing us to make our own decisions and then rewards us with warm fuzzies afterward.
I appreciate the opportunities God gives me to learn and grow by testing my faith, but next time I wouldn't mind a great big NEON sign with flashing lights! (Just once.)
We talked about it and thought about it, we prayed about it and stewed about it, we went to the temple to serve others and hoped for answers to our questions. I didn't feel at all settled after the temple, I felt peaceful like I always do after I leave the temple. I just didn't feel like I got a concrete answer from my Heavenly Father. At least not the kind of answer I was looking for. I wanted a solid "Yes" or "No," seriously I would have settled for "Not right now." I just didn't feel like I got any of that. My real estate agent, who is also my cousin and has been excellent to work with us, called a couple of times to find out if we'd decided anything. He told me to pray hard and that it never hurts to "sleep on it." I just didn't know how long he'd wait for me to make a decision and I didn't want to make a decision if I wasn't getting an answer from Heavenly Father because I didn't want to give the wrong one.
I added up our monthly income and subtracted all of our bills, even factoring in tithing, groceries and gas for the car. Having it all in black and white helped me to see if we could really do this. Heavenly shook his head a lot, but didn't say much other than that. I didn't know if he thought what I came up with meant we could afford it or if we should keep looking. (Men are so annoying sometimes!) Yesterday I was talking to my sister Haha, and told her about my findings. I told her we still have money left over every month after gas and bills and food. She was much more positive and said that it sounded great, that we could easily do it. (I don't know about easily, but I appreciated her enthusiasm.)
After talking to Heavenly about Haha's reaction, he told me that's how he felt too he just hadn't said anything. (See what I mean about how annoying men can be?) So I called Brandon and told him the decision we'd come up with, that we'd like to put an offer on the house.
As soon as I made the decision and said it out loud I felt the wave of relief and positive assurance I'd been waiting for. Sometimes our Father in Heaven doesn't tell us "yes" and he doesn't tell us "no," and he doesn't even tell us "not right now." Sometimes he allows us to make a decision for ourselves and then he tells us whether that decision was the correct one. Our Father in Heaven helps us to grow by allowing us to make our own decisions and then rewards us with warm fuzzies afterward.
I appreciate the opportunities God gives me to learn and grow by testing my faith, but next time I wouldn't mind a great big NEON sign with flashing lights! (Just once.)
No hope for the future...
I answered a 911 call and a timid little voice on the other end of the line said, "There's a car outside that wrecked, can you come fix it?"
"There's a car outside that's wrecked?" I confirmed, "How did it get wrecked?"
"It wrecked into a fence." She said matter of factly.
"A car wrecked into a fence, is anyone hurt?" I questioned.
"Uh-huh. Can you come fix it?"
I started a call on my screen of a car accident and at this point felt like I needed to get some more information and hopefully talk to an adult.
"Can I talk to your mommy or your daddy?"
"She told me not to stay on too long." Click.
When I called back it was an older gentleman who answered the phone. I informed him that a cute little boy or girl had called 911 and said there was a wreck, that a car had crashed into a fence outside of the house and people were hurt.
"There's a car wreck in front of the house? Hang on, let me see." (Um, not exactly what I expected.) When he got back to the phone he told me there was no car wreck in front of the house or anywhere that he could see, so I explained to him that it was a child who had called and perhaps it was just a prank. So he told me his granddaughter was there and perhaps it was her, "Here, can you tell her mother what you just told me?"
Another voice got on the phone, I explained again how her imaginative little girl had called 911 and told me that a car had wrecked into a fence in front of the house and people were hurt.
"Oh, I didn't even know she knew the number for 911," was her reply.
When I have a more intelligent conversation with a 5 year old than I do with her mother, I worry about the future. Or, maybe it means I should worry less about the future and wonder how that little girl came to be as bright as she is with such little help.
"There's a car outside that's wrecked?" I confirmed, "How did it get wrecked?"
"It wrecked into a fence." She said matter of factly.
"A car wrecked into a fence, is anyone hurt?" I questioned.
"Uh-huh. Can you come fix it?"
I started a call on my screen of a car accident and at this point felt like I needed to get some more information and hopefully talk to an adult.
"Can I talk to your mommy or your daddy?"
"She told me not to stay on too long." Click.
When I called back it was an older gentleman who answered the phone. I informed him that a cute little boy or girl had called 911 and said there was a wreck, that a car had crashed into a fence outside of the house and people were hurt.
"There's a car wreck in front of the house? Hang on, let me see." (Um, not exactly what I expected.) When he got back to the phone he told me there was no car wreck in front of the house or anywhere that he could see, so I explained to him that it was a child who had called and perhaps it was just a prank. So he told me his granddaughter was there and perhaps it was her, "Here, can you tell her mother what you just told me?"
Another voice got on the phone, I explained again how her imaginative little girl had called 911 and told me that a car had wrecked into a fence in front of the house and people were hurt.
"Oh, I didn't even know she knew the number for 911," was her reply.
When I have a more intelligent conversation with a 5 year old than I do with her mother, I worry about the future. Or, maybe it means I should worry less about the future and wonder how that little girl came to be as bright as she is with such little help.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Happy Un-Mother's Day!
I thought I hated Valentine's Day when I was single, but I've come to realize that Single Awareness Day was never as difficult as the Un-Mother's Day I'll be having tomorrow.
Every Mother's Day my church has a small gift for all of the mothers in the ward. Not wanting anyone to feel left out they include all women 18 years old and older. I've always hated this, always, even when I wasn't married and fighting with infertility. When I stood up I could feel the stares of others upon me as if to say "You're not a mother." Of course these curious glances were innocent eyes stopping at the face of each standing woman as they wandered around the congregation. Innocent or not, I could not escape the way they seared into my soul and made me feel completely inadequate as a woman.
Tomorrow if I wake up early enough after my grave yard shift to go to church, I will encounter similar inquiring eyes. Except in this "multiply and replenish the earth" community that is the Mormon church, I feel much more pressure to be a mother than I would receive from the outside world. Outside of Utah it is perfectly acceptable for a couple to be married 2 years without having a child, and perfectly acceptable for me to be working instead of being at home raising children. In fact the only thing the outside world might find odd about my marriage is that even though I married at the ripe old age of 25, it's still much younger than many outside of Utah choose to get married.
I'm certain you mean well with your well wishes and words of encouragement, and I'm not sure how to gracefully accept them and still tactfully tell everyone that I'd rather not have any of it. A kind word of encouragement to you may buoy you up, a card may wish you well. I'm not a mother and I'd really rather not be reminded of that fact. What works to comfort you does not work for me. Please don't offer to have the baby for me, it seems very generous to you, to me it is a reminder that not only can you have your own children, but you can have mine for me too.
I'm grateful for a mother-in-law who brought up a son who is gentle and kind, caring and compassionate. For teaching him hard work, responsibility and selfless service. I'm grateful to my mother-in-law for teaching her son to respect women and treat them properly and most of all to love me fiercely and unconditionally.
I'm grateful for a mother who, when it comes to me, has always celebrated this day with great sensitivity. Her presents and cards have always reflected on my worth as a daughter and gratitude for making her a mother and making her role as a mother easier.
Every Mother's Day my church has a small gift for all of the mothers in the ward. Not wanting anyone to feel left out they include all women 18 years old and older. I've always hated this, always, even when I wasn't married and fighting with infertility. When I stood up I could feel the stares of others upon me as if to say "You're not a mother." Of course these curious glances were innocent eyes stopping at the face of each standing woman as they wandered around the congregation. Innocent or not, I could not escape the way they seared into my soul and made me feel completely inadequate as a woman.
Tomorrow if I wake up early enough after my grave yard shift to go to church, I will encounter similar inquiring eyes. Except in this "multiply and replenish the earth" community that is the Mormon church, I feel much more pressure to be a mother than I would receive from the outside world. Outside of Utah it is perfectly acceptable for a couple to be married 2 years without having a child, and perfectly acceptable for me to be working instead of being at home raising children. In fact the only thing the outside world might find odd about my marriage is that even though I married at the ripe old age of 25, it's still much younger than many outside of Utah choose to get married.
I'm certain you mean well with your well wishes and words of encouragement, and I'm not sure how to gracefully accept them and still tactfully tell everyone that I'd rather not have any of it. A kind word of encouragement to you may buoy you up, a card may wish you well. I'm not a mother and I'd really rather not be reminded of that fact. What works to comfort you does not work for me. Please don't offer to have the baby for me, it seems very generous to you, to me it is a reminder that not only can you have your own children, but you can have mine for me too.
I'm grateful for a mother-in-law who brought up a son who is gentle and kind, caring and compassionate. For teaching him hard work, responsibility and selfless service. I'm grateful to my mother-in-law for teaching her son to respect women and treat them properly and most of all to love me fiercely and unconditionally.
I'm grateful for a mother who, when it comes to me, has always celebrated this day with great sensitivity. Her presents and cards have always reflected on my worth as a daughter and gratitude for making her a mother and making her role as a mother easier.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
But Officer, I had the munchies!
"Two Weeks Notice" starring Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant, has a great conversation outlining what defines an emergency.
Sandra Bullock: "You said it was an emergency! And didn't I memo you as to what constitutes an emergency?"
Hugh Grant: "Yes, large meteor, severe loss of blood and what was the third one again?"
Sandra Bullock: "DEATH! And you're not dead!"
A call we got last night has kept these comedic tag lines swirling through my head all day. Surely more people should take Sandra Bullock's advice when trying to determine whether their complaint warrants a call to 911.
Sometime after 1 AM a female called from one of the rest areas in our area. Her cell phone kept cutting out and my partner was barely able to ascertain her location, let alone what the emergency was. He called back after the phone disconnected and what he found out had me flabbergasted! The woman was calling 911 because the vending machines at the rest area were not working properly.
I've tilted and shaken, bumped and pounded on a vending machine. I've even contorted, however unsuccessfully, my arm in an attempt to get that ungettable snack food. In all the times I've punched my selection only to watch with disappointment as the corner of the packaging snags on my delightful 75 cent cupcake, not once did it ever occur to me that I should call the police! After all, what more could he/she do, shoot the dang thing?
Sandra Bullock: "You said it was an emergency! And didn't I memo you as to what constitutes an emergency?"
Hugh Grant: "Yes, large meteor, severe loss of blood and what was the third one again?"
Sandra Bullock: "DEATH! And you're not dead!"
A call we got last night has kept these comedic tag lines swirling through my head all day. Surely more people should take Sandra Bullock's advice when trying to determine whether their complaint warrants a call to 911.
Sometime after 1 AM a female called from one of the rest areas in our area. Her cell phone kept cutting out and my partner was barely able to ascertain her location, let alone what the emergency was. He called back after the phone disconnected and what he found out had me flabbergasted! The woman was calling 911 because the vending machines at the rest area were not working properly.
I've tilted and shaken, bumped and pounded on a vending machine. I've even contorted, however unsuccessfully, my arm in an attempt to get that ungettable snack food. In all the times I've punched my selection only to watch with disappointment as the corner of the packaging snags on my delightful 75 cent cupcake, not once did it ever occur to me that I should call the police! After all, what more could he/she do, shoot the dang thing?
Friday, May 1, 2009
THIS POST INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK
Have you ever seen a page in a training manual or text book that reads:
"THIS PAGE INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK"
And except for that sentence the page really is blank. Would someone look at that same page, sans warning, and worry what they might be missing? And isn't writing the message on the page sort of an oxymoron anyway? It's no longer blank once it has writing on it. If it's supposed to be blank, leave it blank!
I feel the same way about people who write blog posts to inform their readers they have nothing to write. Write when you have something to write. There's nothing I hate more than getting to the end of a post that's several paragraphs long, all the while hoping if I keep reading they'll eventually get to the point.
If you don't write anything I'll understand you don't have anything to say or write about, most of your readers are smart enough to make the connection too.
"THIS PAGE INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK"
And except for that sentence the page really is blank. Would someone look at that same page, sans warning, and worry what they might be missing? And isn't writing the message on the page sort of an oxymoron anyway? It's no longer blank once it has writing on it. If it's supposed to be blank, leave it blank!
I feel the same way about people who write blog posts to inform their readers they have nothing to write. Write when you have something to write. There's nothing I hate more than getting to the end of a post that's several paragraphs long, all the while hoping if I keep reading they'll eventually get to the point.
If you don't write anything I'll understand you don't have anything to say or write about, most of your readers are smart enough to make the connection too.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
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