Irony

i-ro-ny (n)
1. Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs

Yesterday, there was much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth because I never made it to the gym.

"Why in the name of all good things did you declare your new gym-ness to all the world?" I cried in my head, with much woe.

"One day! Your gym streak lasted for one day?!" I continued to chide myself.

Of course, I always thought (but somehow knew that it wouldn't come to fruition) that I'd go in the evening when Jay came home. But then, Jay came home weary and there was the season premier of Law and Order on the DVR to watch and then I had to go to bed early so that I could get up early to go....to the gym.

It didn't help that yesterday was a one of Henry's finest. In the morning, he stepped on a tube of hair conditioner whose contents squirted out across the hallway and floor. I didn't even remember to take a picture before I cleaned it up.

About an hour later, I heard an very scary sound. Henry was gagging which led to vomiting which led to this sweet surprise to clean up.

Sorry...this is kind of gross.

Yes, he had a nickel in his mouth. I share this not to incriminate myself, because I am well past that stage, but because Henry is far beyond the point of "baby-proofing" a house.

"You could try harder," you might (probably) think.

True. We could. We should. But he's like a bloodhound for mischief. It'd be a full time job and I've already got one of those. Several, in fact.

So our days go like this, dancing from one disaster to the next and it usually ends with something like this happening.

Into the rice. While I was vacuuming elsewhere. There's that word again.

I took about ten pictures while he walked towards me crying and needing to know I still loved him. I do...but, that was good jasmine rice!

This morning, I didn't get up early to go the gym. The alarm sounded and I shut it off. Shocking...I know, but in my defense, I didn't get a good night's sleep. You see, Henry got his hands on our sleep number bed's remote control and after several hours, I noticed that my back hurt. A back shouldn't hurt when one possesses the mighty sleep number bed and I realized that my side of the bed was hard as a rock. I looked, briefly, for the remote control but knew if the numbers had changed then they had been changed by remote. And if they had changed by remote, then the remote had been in Henry's possession. Who knew where it would be.

When I finally got out of bed to look for it this morning, I found it by the laundry room and checked my sleep number. 90. I normally sleep at 40. No wonder. Jay sleeps at 70 and his was on 20. He didn't sleep well either.

I decided that, today, I would get to the gym no matter what the cost. At 9:00, I loaded all three boys into the van, filled out the necessary forms to leave them there for an hour, and made my way up to the cardio machines upstairs.

To alleviate the massive amount of boredom I experienced the first day of my gym-ness, I brought a book with me. Thus, I began the elliptical movement of my legs with my book shielding the awful clock that ticks so much slower when working out.

Determined to refrain from constant checking, I went as long as possible without even a glance. By my cell phone time (a little irony - but at least it doesn't have a second hand), I had gone about 14 minutes when I finally lifted up my book to check my stats.

Still blinking on the control panel was "push quick start to begin". I'm such a pro.

I made my way over to the treadmills and walked for 25 at a 15 minute/mile pace and continued to read. I know it's not the best workout, but I could get used to 40 minutes of reading and exercising at the same time. I didn't want to stop. But I did.

I lifted some weights, did some ab work and made my way back to the child care center to pick up my three little amigos.

First words out of the caregiver's mouth were: "Henry is such a good little boy. He kept walking around with me to help me pick up. What a sweetheart!"

Does anyone else see the irony in this?

Looks like I've truly run out of excuses.

My Scorecard

I am a part of a startling statistic. I signed up for a gym membership. Are you chuckling? Or slowly shaking your head? Please...not the eye roll. Although I deserve it, I wouldn't have signed up if I didn't really want to use it.

I get the cynicism. I don't have a great record with gym memberships.

1992-1993: YMCA. One treadmill, one stairmaster and a whole bunch of smelly gym equipment in an underground bunker. Also included for the fitness stars, an indoor track about a tenth of a mile in circumference. Yeah...kind of like the cartoon.

I went because it was free. I was a lifeguard there so occasionally, when feeling the need to lose the twenty pounds I always felt I needed to, I'd enter the dungeon and start turning right over and over again. Overall score: 3 out of 10 for actual usage.

1993 - 1995: RB during school and Crossroads fitness when I lived at home. You can't blame me for not really using the RB. Does anyone remember BYU issue? The shorts...uncomfortable. Unwearable. Plus, they displayed your size. I did try it a few times and got caught on the stairmaster next to a girl trying to sell me Amway. No thanks.

Crossroads was fine, except I always ran the risk of bumping into some guy...depending on the year there was always at least one I was trying to avoid seeing me in spandex and stretchy clothes. As I managed to stay fit, I'll give myself a 4 out of 10 for usage, but I think it's generous.

1996: Golds Gym. By far my best year. I was an animal. I'd go twice a day somedays. They had this slide class that I was into (I wore little booties and basically went side to side on a slippery mat for an hour. I can't fathom that being something I'd be interested in now). I don't think it's an accident that it's the year I wooed Jay. What can I say? The guy caught me on an upswing. Overall score: 8 out of 10.

1997-1998: The walking around campus and occasional jog around Provo's square blocks membership. Not my best effort. I gained the first significant chunk of my decade long weight gain, and haven't felt cute since. Overall score: 1 out of 10.

1998-2002: Bally's Fitness. I went through several highs and lows. I went fairly regularly before I was pregnant with Seth and then started going back consistently when he was one. It had free child care and I even managed to have a complete stranger say to me once, "I just wanted to let you know that I can see a difference in you from a couple of months ago. Just keep coming!" as she cheerfully and tonely walked away from me. I think I went back after that, but certainly not as often. Overall score: 5 out of 10.

2002-2005: 24 Hour Fitness. It was close to our house and I was raring to go. I bought and paid for a three year membership the first day I went in. I found out I was pregnant with Sam a week later. Child care was $2/hour/child and we were really poor. I think I went less than ten times total. Overall score: 0 out of 10.

2005-2007: YMCA. This time the facilities were new and surrounded with wonderful natural light. I joined for their cheaper swimming lessons and free child care. But it was a 20 minute drive and I found myself MAYBE going once a week. Even Andrea and my commitment to running together didn't get me there. And sometimes, Henry wouldn't stop crying and they'd come find me to tell me I had a needy child. Overall usage score: 2 out of 10.

December 31, 2007: XCEL Fitness. I've got six months to prove myself wrong. Obviously, I've got a lot of self-doubt here. But also hope. I don't have to let those past failures dictate how I behave today. And I don't have to let another gym steal my money. I am dedicating the next six months to brining up my average. I'm going for the 10!

Now, how do I find out if they have a slide class?

Talking Points or Turning Points

October 2007. That was the month I vowed would be my "turning point". In more ways than one, I made different goals to become better. Yes, I made jokes about me becoming perfect, but I do realize that it won't happen through my own efforts. Or while I'm on earth. Just so no one thinks I'm missing the big picture.

So, not perfect but better. I should be able to do that. I mean, the possibilities for improvements are pretty much endless.

I can't say all that much has changed since October, however. I feel this has somehow happened before. This desire to change followed by none. I say all the right things, but don't do all the right things. I want to scream out in frustration, but the only way I can communicate that through the written word is by caps and exclamation points.

So...

AAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hmm...I also realized I can make the text larger, put it in bold and change the color. Of course, now, I can't get back to my original colored text but I'll spare you another one of my beastly yells.

Today, I did it. I accomplished my essentials. I feel good. I feel accomplished. I feel like I can make fudge with my kids without major regret, get my college body back, teach gospel doctrine to a room full of former bishops and run for president. I can visit teach today, get my car washed and filled up with gas, make a delicious dinner and get to the post office. O.K...that might be stretching it, but I feel that good.

The trouble is...I know myself and know that I am full of moods. Full of "can do"s and "what's the point"s that battle back and forth several times a day. As a result, I hang out here in comfortable limbo land, not completely sucking...but not being the person I want to be either.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...I know...take it day by day, one step at a time, believe in myself, reach for the stars, I'm the wind beneath my wings....I get it. Right now. How do I get "it" more often, though? How can this day, this day that if followed by another one, and another one, and another one would surely produce the kind of human being I want to be, become my norm rather than my extraordinary.

I don't have the answers. Do you?

If so, please share them. Unless they are totally obnoxious. Remember, I'm moody.

Spiritual: Alma 30-32

Nurturing: Reading lesson with Sam. played catch with Henry. Ion with Sam (although...it totally backfired...so maybe that doesn't count).

Work: 3 loads laundry, made beds, kitchen dishes.

Physical: BW+, Zumba beginner, Callenetics crunches, two full body push ups (that's all there's strength for. Sad...but I'm working on it!)

A New Record!

It's 10:30 in the morning and I'm done with my essentials. This has to be a record for me. Of course, I have the rest of the day to do MORE nurturing and MORE work, but I'm counting this. And if nothing else gets done....I'm good.

Physical - Zumba Advanced (holy crap! I thought I had moves. Turns out...not like the Brazilians. But, I can do the rump shake like Beyonce. I always knew I could. I just never had the chance before!)

Spiritual - Alma 5-7.

Nurturing - TWO reading lessons with Sam (he's on fire. I'm so, so proud of him). Read a story to Henry afterwards because he wants to read too. Until I open the book and read to him. Then he jerks it back and just starts flipping pages faster than I can read them. Hey...at least he likes books.

Work - Laundry, breakfast dishes, made bed.

I've been forgetting to put this at the bottom of my posts and the whole point was to keep my goals alive. So, call me on it if it's missing.

We Are The Champions....

of our pool bracket.

"What is she talking about?" the confused reader asks.

Volleyball, of course.

Yes, I went and played again. I had to. I was called to repentance several times and even visited at my door to repentance several times. The volleyball coach is nothing if not persistent. (She also turns out to be the sister-in-law to one of my friend's visiting teachers on the other side of the continental US of A. Never, ever think you can write truly anonymously).

O.K....so it wasn't repentance, but the coach really did make an effort to keep me in the loop and encouraged me to come play. I missed the stake tournament, so wasn't planning on going to the regional tournament at all but she showed up at my door with the rules and address and strongly urged me to come.

I went, sheepishly, and had a surprisingly good time. The good time from playing wasn't surprising, but the camaraderie and sense of team was. We were in true volleyball form with frequent huddles to the middle and lots and lots of high fives.

The best part was we played by official Olympic rules so we had jerseys with numbers, pretty strict refereeing and we even had to line up on the back line after each game. I thought it was a hoot when we'd all forget after the game (because who does this?) and go to our sideline chairs for a drink of water and the ref would remain up on his stand at the net with the whistle in his mouth and his arms up waiting for us to line up.

The worst part was all the prayers. That sounds bad, but there were four during the tournament. We had to pray when the game that preceded ours was over. Then was our opening prayer (ten minutes later). Then we had another opening prayer with a different ref (I think everyone was too embarrassed to explain that we had already prayed) and then another closing prayer. I like prayer. I even like saying the Relief Society Motto in unison with fellow women (which we also did) but it seemed like a lot of "remember who you are"s to me. Perhaps there's been some ugliness in the past.

There were four teams playing and we had to play each team twice. The games were to 25 and you had to win by 2. The top two teams got to move on. Our team was 6-0 at the end of the night. We are moving on!

So, my guilt which lead to a night of volleyball has led to another night of volleyball. Tonight. It's double elimination now and we've got our eyes on the prize. I'm not sure what the prize is, or when it gets awarded (there are supposedly loser brackets and I think this tournament goes on for another week) but my eyes are on it.

Go team!

Physical - Zumba workout (arriba!)

Spiritual - Mosiah 8-10

Nurturing - Reading lesson, stories, puzzle with Sammy, not whooping Henry and even cleaning up his mess lovingly (that might be a stretch) when he put pens down the vents (because he's figured out how to pull them out of the floor) or left wet toilet paper in balls all over the downstairs carpet.

Work - washed all the sheets and made all the beds. Folded and put away another load of laundry. Cleaned Master Bath.

Saving My Life To Death

Last night, as soon as Jay and I had both turned out our lights from reading, the chirping started.

Chirp.

(30 second pause).

Chirp.

We tried to ignore the gentle reminder of our smoke detector to change our battery. But, smoke detectors take their job seriously.

Every thirty seconds seriously.

Chirp.

After about ten minutes of trying to sleep with our pillows over our head, I went to see which one of the multiple detectors was keeping me from my desired dreamland.

It was tricker than I thought it would be. Three of them are within five feet of each other (in the bedrooms and hallway), but after several minutes of standing right underneath and waiting the half minute out, I located the chirper to be in Henry's room.

I didn't really have any plans to solve the problem. If you take out the battery, it continues to chirp and I thought Jay was successfully sleeping under his pillow.

Luckily, he wasn't and he came out of our bedroom frustrated. He stood on a chair, and dismantled the entire smoke detector. Problem solved.

Chirp.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was the other boys bedroom.

Chirp.

He climbed up on a box and took that one off too.

Chirp.

The one in the hallway came down next.

Chirp.

He finally went downstairs and took out that one too.





Nothing.

We went to sleep hoping for a smoke and fire free night.



I think these reminders to be safe... to be aware... to follow through... are a little out of control.

My van gently dings at me for about five seconds to buckle-up but then lets me alone. It did it's job - the rest is up to me.

My sister's Toyota, however, follows a different philosophy. The car believes it is smarter than me so if I don't buckle up immediately, I must not know how important seatbelt wearing is, so it chimes and chimes and chimes until I do so. I'd ignore it but eventually, the chimes become closer and closer together resulting in a frantic scream, "Buckle UP! Buckle UP!" And I do.

My microwave beeps at me all day long if I don't open the door and take care of whatever I used the microwave to heat. What's the emergency? It's not like the microwave is still "cooking" the thing. Danger over. Leave me alone. Maybe I want to leave my hamburger in there a little while longer.

I appreciate the thought behind it. It's certainly important to have fresh batteries in our smoke detectors and to wear seat belts and to not let our food cool down after a microwave has so selflessly worked to heat it up....but...these companies need to remember some sound doctrine.

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it. Proverbs 22:6

I think my smoke detector company could use a bible lesson. I know I need to change out my batteries Now...let me be a grown-up and do it.

Physical - marched in place while I folded laundry and jazz walked down the hall taking it to different bedrooms (you can laugh...but when why walk when you can jazz walk?). Oh...and a two mile walk with new, fabulous friend Melanie.

Spiritual - Words of Mormon, Mosiah 1-2

Nuturing - Park, reading lesson, letting my kids help me fold (almost like window washing...but not so pretty)

Work - laundry, changing summer clothes out for the winter.

Preparation

Oh, how I loved conference this weekend. I remember, while growing up, having to sit for ONE session, usually of our choosing. I remember my cousin, who seemed like an aunt, having her children take notes and me finding that bothersome and goody-goody. (Whoa....I didn't even realize my attitude had taken on that tone so young in life...but yes...those are my memories). I don't think it was until college that I fully appreciated that conference wasn't this boring weekend, watching old men speak with a black background.

During my freshman year at BYU, I was in Women's Choir and the BYU's combined choirs were invited to sing at October conference. It was still in the tabernacle and being that close to the general authorities was amazing. Here I was, a girl from the middle of nowhere, seeing the old men on the black screen. But, in person, they were powerful. Their whole beings emit a special glow...a happiness...a personification of truth.

Since that experience, I have never looked back and have tried to enjoy all sessions of conference every time it's available. This whole weekend was incredible! Every talk was filled with this eye-opening common sense that made me so happy to understand and believe this doctrine. Yes, yes and yes!

And the music? How Firm A Foundation just about made my heart burst. Seriously, it was burning. I cried during the entire closing prayer.

Best of all, I truly feel that my chastisement earlier last week, at the Relief Society Broadcast, was exactly what I needed to prepare myself for many of the talks given this weekend. I couldn't believe how many mentioned how precious our time is, and how much danger there is in wasting it. I am the queen of wasting time! I act as if there is an endless supply (which, honestly, sometimes it really feels like) but was reminded that I am here but for a short time, and am with the people I love and cherish but for a short time, and need to spend that time in service and purpose.

I wasn't hurt and defensive during Sister Beck's talk, which was pretty amazing (I want to be a Mother Who Knew!) and Elder Oaks talk? Inspiring! Thank you!

So, now I seek balance and faith. Faith, because I need to practice was President Hinckley taught. That to gain a testimony of a principle, I need to live the principle. I know there will be days when I will not want to give up my time wasting ways. I've been doing it for but a week now, and I'd say of the seven days, five of them have had some major grumpy episodes. But I'm not giving up.

As far as balance, I still need to be me. I have found some, who perhaps have caught the vision and are simply trying, who alienate themselves from other women with what appears to be a judgmental attitude or accusatory tone about other family's and women's choices. That is what I don't want. I just want to keep on striving.

Thanks to many of you for your encouragement and support. Change is uncomfortable. Change is sometimes hard on relationships. But I don't think the Lord has prepared me for this change to abandon me now. I'm moving on.

My Experiment With Perfection - Days 2 and 3

Were it not for hamburger and Henry, I might actually have a chance to be successful in becoming the woman/mom/wife/person I want to be.

BUT...

there is a destructive, unpredictable, uncooperative, independent little Henry that charms me despite his writing on the wall with Sharpie markers, (I honestly used to think when other peoples' kids wrote on walls, "why don't you put your markers and pens out of reach?" I have been humbled. The truly innovative artist seems to be able to use the force to open drawers, find tools in hidden crevices or even conjure them up with mental imagery. There is NO stopping them.) despite waking at unpredictable hours (throwing my best laid plans off schedule), and even despite the fact that he isn't content to sit on my lap when he needs to.

AND....

occasionally, I cook with ground beef. It was almost my undoing last night.

Yesterday, we were unable to roll with the momentum from Day One's schedule as there were doctor appointments for both Seth and Sam scheduled first thing in the morning. It's a habit for me to schedule the first available appointment in the morning, because I believe that way, I can avoid the dreaded doctors-get-behind-schedule waiting. The only trouble is, then I'M behind schedule all day and get caught playing catch-up.

At the appointment, Sammy failed his hearing test in one ear, Seth didn't shine on his sight test so needs further evaluation and Henry needs speech therapy. They all got shots (although Henry's appointment was last week, I'm just summarizing it here) and they all, otherwise, appear perfectly healthy.

We followed that star performance with grocery shopping and then off to Wheeler Farm with the cousins! What an adorable little farm in the middle of the city. I love things like this and can sit on the grass and watch my kids play with sticks for hours. But, we also walked around and saw the animals and went on a tractor ride.

On the tractor ride.

Henry loved crawling in and patting on the plastic covering they had on the old latrines. Whee!

Kelly brought bread to feed the ducks (our bread is a little to pricey at $5/loaf to squander away on fowl.)

Henry made me nervous by throwing rocks and sticks while standing very close to the water (he wouldn't have drowned but he would have become annoyingly wet and cold) but this is him laughing in the face of danger.

This was the golden activity until Seth spotted a water snake in the grass. Nobody could really relax after that.

When we got home, I put dinner in the crockpot (*spoiler alert...it involved ground beef*) while Jay, who was home early because it was an academic day, took all three boys to the park to play football. What did I do with my indulgent and unexpected free time? Only exactly what a perfect person would do. I went about finishing my essentials: cleaning bathrooms, folding laundry and NOT getting on the computer (because I hadn't exercised yet and I was trying to be true and faithful in all things. It was only day two, after all.)

Then my little ones came home and in spite of my plans for perfection, all moods went skeewampishly south. My kids had enough gall to complain about being hungry and didn't want to wait to eat until dinner (rude!), Jay had a headache from being with the kids for all of an hour and a half (although, to be fair...it was much more likely due to looking at a computer screen and textbooks of black and white images all day), and even after two hours of being in a crockpot on high, the ground beef I put in for our delicious dinner of homemade baked beans/cowboy goulash (yes...this is YOUR recipe, Kelly!) was not cooked.

Still, no need to panic, because when you're striving for perfection, undercooked beef should not be that big of a deal. Out of the crockpot and into the oven my bean/meat mixture went for a half hour at 400! Take that Mad Cow disease! I set the table, poured out the applesauce and put the delicious gluten free bread out on a bread plate, washed all the extra dishes and messes I created from an earlier failed attempt to make gluten free biscuits from a package (seriously....consistency of toothpaste) and checked again. Pink.

Everyone was seated at the table when I yelled, "This is why I don't like to freakin' cook!!" and slammed the oven door shut simultaneously. Jay, in an heroic effort to prevent total meltdown, told the boys to put on their shoes and get in the car because we were going to Wendy's, but I forced everyone back in their seats because I had spent almost two hours in that kitchen making a cowboy dinner and THEY WERE GOING TO HAPPILY EAT IT! We sat there, silently looking at each other for about five minutes until Jay got up to check the meat. He judged it safe and we spent the next fifteen minutes slowly eating our food, checking every spoonful for anything that could be described as any shade of rouge.

Jay did the dishes while I gave the boys a bath, and then I left to go on a walk. I had planned on walking four miles, but stopped after two and that is just going to have to be o.k. for now. It was dark, and windy and I wanted to get on the computer to check some blogs and perhaps write about my efforts of day two.

When I came home, Jay was on the computer and I realized that he had every right to be (he hardly ever is and wasn't aware of my abstinent day...again...not that that should even matter. I mean, I CAN go for a day without being on the computer. Really....I can!) but that didn't mean I couldn't be and wasn't disappointed about missing out on what I had promised myself as a reward for sticking to my plan. Instead, I took a long, hot bath and read a good chunk of The History of Love. I'm loving it.

Today was almost a replica of yesterday, minus the ground beef. We had a very long doctor's appointment up at Primary Children's Hospital for Sammy's eye. They had to dilate his eyes, and those kinds of appointments run almost three hours. With only swedish fish and the ABC song to distract Henry from destroying the million dollar equipment in each room, those three hours were brutal.

The one great thing about the last two days (besides, the fact that they were both...obviously....perfect), was that with all of the driving around for errands, I have listened to the Book of Mormon on CD and am already in 2 NE 18! So, while my essential workout was cut in half, my essential spirituality has been about quadrupled. There HAS to be some extra blessings for that.

Tonight, we are celebrating my sister, Sarah's, birthday by having one of her favorite dinners (ham and cheesy potatoes). The boys have been working on a surprise for her (that I can't post about because she might check this before she leaves work for the day) and really...it's been a good day. Except for the fact that I really, really put off exercise. It is ranked absolutely lowest in the essentials but changing my priorities and mindset is the goal. Maybe, just maybe, instead of scheduling the first appointment of the day, I can schedule those and other things a little later in the morning so that I don't have to rearrange when I work out OR get up at 5 in the morning to actually accomplish it (which really never, ever happens).

Fascinating reading, I know...but to me, this experiment really has been fascinating so far.

I don't know how else to work this in, other than being perfectly delightful, so here is some good mail I've received in the last couple of weeks.

Claudia sent me a birthday card. I love calligraphy and her cards are so artsy and chic. Thanks for the thought. I appreciate it any day of the year:)

Bridget sent me an article in Newsweek about Celiac Disease. SO thoughtful...I loved that she was looking out for us thousands of miles away.

Allison sent this extraordinary dish soap for sending her an idea for a game. It smells heavenly! Seriously, I actually want to do the dishes with this stuff. It's a bubble bath for my hands.

To be continued: My Experiment With Perfection....

Happy Birthday SARAH!!!

Day One - Perfect So Far

I am an all or nothing kind of person when it comes to setting goals. My family members reading this will already have a smile on their faces because they know EXACTLY what I did today. And I did EXACTLY what I said I was going to do. I can't help it. If I'm going to try, then I'm going to try to be better in all ways.

So, I exercised (T-Tapp LadyBug standing workout), read my scriptures (1 NE chapters 17-20), cleaned the downstairs (vacuumed, mopped floors, scoured stovetop, kitchen sink to a shine), made all of the beds, put a load of laundry in, put dinner in the crockpot, took my kids to the park for a picnic and now am rewarding myself by blogging. Trouble is, when I'm all annoyingly perfect like this...I have no idea what to write about. Um...the park was delightful. We played football and I was even that mom in the song "I'll Build You A Rainbow" (minus wearing an actual football jersey although both Seth and Sam were wearing them. Oh...and minus dying at the end). Now, Seth and Sam are doing art projects, Henry is napping, and after this, I am going to make a spinach dip for Sarah to take to a bridal shower tonight (act of service) and then read.




So...this isn't bad. Why do I rebel against this lifestyle? Why do I already have a sneaky suspicious I won't be so bright eyed and bushy tailed tomorrow?

I Can and I Should, So I Am Going To Try

And it came to pass that I said unto them that I knew that I had spoken hard things against the wicked, according to the truth; and the righteous have I justified, and testified that they should be lifted up at the last day; wherefore, the guilty taketh the truth to be hard, for it cutteth them to the very center.
1 Ne 16:2

Argh!!! I have been sitting here for over ten minutes trying to start something that makes sense, that will be somewhat readable, but I'm on a schedule and I'm using all of my time with the thinking...so I'm just going to start writing. Good luck making sense of any of this.

The General Relief Society broadcast on Saturday night was a mixed bag for me. I'd say, overall, as I left the parking lot I was uplifted and motivated, but during the first talk, given by Sister Beck, I'd describe myself more as indignant. If you didn't get a chance to go, you'll have to rely on my poor-non-note-taking memory, and if you did, feel free to fill in the gaping holes, that I'll no doubt leave.

I chose the scripture up top because as soon as she began her talk, I knew the days of the pats on the back and the "we're all doing the best we can" attitude were over. I've gotten very comfortable with the attitude that you can't criticize women because...well...we might have a breakdown because "we're all doing the best we can!!!" But, sometimes...especially in my case, comfort leads to complacency and complacency leads to neglect and neglect leaves us wide open to the influence of Satan.

I don't think I'm a wicked person. But, I do think Satan has been playing tricks with my mind. Little whispers here and there that my talents do not fall within the boundaries of homemaking and child raising, but rather that I shine better elsewhere. Someone with my potential cannot be content cleaning all day and creating idyllic childhoods. I was meant for greater things. Important things. Adult things.

When Sister Beck began speaking about how we cannot spend our days doing non-essential things before essential things, I immediately took that truth to be hard. "I'm not a robot!" I screamed to myself in defense. "I'm not fulfilled emotionally, intellectually, or socially that way!" I silently shouted back at the screen.

And then the "can"s and the "should"s started. She used their cadence several times to drill in her point that we women have responsibilities that we are forgetting about and that it is our part of the Plan of Happiness to accomplish them. I can and I should spend every day developing spiritual habits that will be the spiritual backbone of my home. I can and I should be better than the world at providing service and support to those around me. I can and I should make sure my children are learning the values they need by teaching them responsibility. I can and I should have a home that is comfortable and taken care of for my family to enjoy being in.

I can and I should, but for awhile now, I haven't been doing it. My days are all kind of blurry lately, with me wanting to be invisible to my kids so I tune out on the computer or in a book or on the phone and let them entertain themselves until my involvement is absolutely necessary. Then, at the interruption into MY day, MY things, I feel so...put out thinking, "I am not cut out for this!" I don't even let myself start with the cleaning and "homemaking" because interruptions and messes after I bother with that really get my blood boiling. Why bother when it's just going to end up a mess later that day? I can easily feel rage when I've spent time making a room look nice and then have my efforts undone a few hours later. I'm much less grumpy about messes when they are kept to a constant standard. I've always justified my behavior by explaining that if I cleaned all day, I'd just be yelling at my children all day. This way...we're all in a better place.

But I've been deceived. I can and I should be better. Sister Beck thinks so which means President Hinckley thinks so which means Heavenly Father thinks so. And even I know so. I do.

So, I must change some priorities. I can, should and must do better than I've been doing. For me, that means no more blogging until and unless I've complete the essential things already. I'm defining essential as:

• spiritual (scripture reading)
• physical (exercise)
• homemaking (whatever daily chore I've decided upon)
• parental (something educational, fun or bonding with my children)

This will not be easy for me. At all. I am not happy about this necessary change right now. But lately, I've been very aware of a tug-of-war battling for my identity. I think Satan has been pretty craft lately, wooing me with praise and admiration, puffing me up with pride over the non-essentials and convincing me that the essentials were boring and not worth the effort.

They are worth the effort and I am going to renew myself to making that effort. Now, onto more of the essentials. I've got Family Home Evening to prepare.