Attitude

I fully realize that I'm going to be exposing my lameness here and I accept whatever fall from grace that follows. But I have to be honest with my thoughts - the good, the bad and the ugly.

Stake Conference Weekend. My calling alone makes this weekend harder than most. I wasn't ecstatic about the choir turnout. We ended up having 50 people participate (20 primary kids) but a lot of the stronger singers chose not to participate and the sound just wasn't there this time. I knew it going in and perhaps that contributed to my attitude throughout the weekend.

Yesterday was the adult session and I came home and just whined and complained to Jay (he had to stay home - Henry was throwing up and Sam was running to the bathroom every 10 minutes). I complained about the music (the Stake President actually said he didn't like the closing song I chose - Love At Home, the organ was....erratic), the heat in the building, the volume...you name it and I probably snarked about it. I apologized later on to Jay for being so negative in my report and he assured me that I was entitled to be bugged every once in a while.

This morning, Henry still had a fever so Jay once again stayed home with the kids. I felt very put upon that I couldn't take care of my family. Which is hilarious because most days, that is all I do and I feel "put upon" that that's all I ever get to do! After all, Jay is completely competent to take care of our children. But I admit to smiling when Sammy told me Dad babysat them.

We sang "Teach Me To Walk In The Light" as prelude and six of my singers weren't there yet. I already felt the choir was several cards short of a full deck and was so frustrated by their tardiness. I had visions of a severe rebuking and letting people know that while I'm pretty laid back with choir, they needed to show some personal responsibility to participate. Missing the first number was unacceptable to me and I avoided eye contact when they came. Conference started and the opening prayer was too long. "Does this guy think he's giving a talk or something?" I thought negatively. One of the speakers was a low talker. I was on the stand and I couldn't hear him. He was older so I felt a bit bad for him but after 10 minutes of struggling to put audible words here and there together into sentences, I was more frustrated than compassionate.

Then the Stake President spoke. He is a seminary teacher and his wife is having their twelfth child in 10 days. This guy is amazing. He knows his scriptures inside out and taught doctrine. He spoke on the parable in Matthew 5 on talents and how those talents are really the spiritual gifts we have been given. Not just talents like singing, organizing, etc but faith and revelation. When the master returns and discovers that one of his servants just buried the talent he had been given, rather than seeking ways to add to it, he chastised and condemned him. When the Stake President spoke on these things, I felt the spirit very strongly. My heart was completely softened and I felt happy and positive and motivated. He spoke of examples of people increasing their faith from our stake and how most of the time it was a direct result of being obedient to a commandment. He bore his testimony about Joseph Smith and I wished I had prepared myself to feel the way I did at that moment the entire weekend. What a change for the better. I shook hands with the choir members who missed the first song and told them how glad I was that they participated. Very sheepishly, they apologized for being late. I don't know what their circumstances were this morning and maybe they just did the best they could.

I drove home and listened to the Book of Mormon on CD when Nephi broke his bow and everyone was murmuring and complaining. Instead of joining in the laments, he made a new bow and fixed his situation.

I'm glad my attitude changed but I wonder if I had to wait for the Stake President's talk for it to happen. Could I have been like Nephi and just fixed it? What was the purpose of my whining? Did it help the situation? Lift anyone up? Hardly. I realize we can't always be "up" but the feelings I felt at the end of conference were much more desirable than the ones I'd been wallowing in previously. I came home and smiled at my kids, kissed my sick little baby and enjoyed the opportunity to be together. I know we can't always feel this way but I think our actions can affect our attitude. I'm thankful for a stake president who showed me a better way to be.

This was a game Jay was playing with Seth and Sammy this afternoon. They'd build a tower (stacking cups - Henry's birthday present) and then take turns blocking eachother from knocking it down. The looks on the boys' faces was priceless...pure joy.

Sammy tries to pass on the outside.

Working as a team to keep Dad from knocking it down.

Jay tries to surge

Crash....all falls down.

Just Plug It In

On our third day of wedded bliss, Jay and I headed north for our honeymoon in Banff, Alberta. We went north for several reasons. We had a reception in Montana the day after we were married so we were already up there. We wanted to be back for Christmas in Montana in five days so our options were pretty limited as far as our destination went. Jay chose Banff for it's scenery and idea without really thinking about the temperature. Nothing wrong with a snowy honeymoon...we were married in December, after all. Not afraid of a little snow, we drove our Caribbean Mist Subaru Impreza up to the great Canadian Rockies for a few days of cozy cottage living. Our reality, however, when we arrived was below zero temperatures with a nasty windchill. We found our comely cottage covered in snow and immediately built a fire. We had everything we needed for the night so hunkered down and enjoyed our solitude. We didn't leave our fortress until lunch the next day but to our dismay, found our little green machine didn't start. Overnight, it had dipped to -30 degrees (windchill included) and the fierce cold proved too much for the little car. We called a tow company and they gave us a jump for fifty dollars. Finally mobile, we went looking for a restaurant in town and decided on the Hard Rock Cafe. When the time came to park, we both looked at each other with a "what now?" look. Neither of us wanted to risk another fifty dollar fee but the thought of leaving it running while we were in a restaurant seemed absurd. It was then that I noticed the convenient outlets that were part of each parking meter.

"Look! Just plug it in!" I said with confidence.

"Plug what in?" Jay replied.

"The car. Where's the cord that comes out of the car?" I asked.

"There is no cord to plug in," said Jay.

"Yes there is. Under the hood. All cars come with a cord" I retorted with smugness.

"Not this car. Maybe your cars come with that in Montana but I can't just plug this car in." he replied with frustration.

Plug the car in. That's what we did growing up. It was part of our nightly winter ritual. Last one to drive plugs the car in. I guess there are some cold weather adjustments you can make to your engine block, oil pan and battery to keep it starting in cold weather. I was used to seeing little cords coming out of the front grill of our cars and had just assumed that Jay kept his completely under the hood because we hadn't needed it yet. But cars in Colorado (and I'm guessing most places below the 49th degree parallel) don't come with the plug so our only option was to keep it running all the time.

We nervously ate our lunch and Jay ran out at least twice during the 45 minutes we were inside to make sure the exhaust wasn't iced over and no one had broken in and stolen it. Back at the cottage, we left it on again. We left that car running for three whole days. Upside...always warm when we were ready to go. Downside...never being completely at ease that our car would still be there when we went back to it. It didn't even use that much gas idling for three days. Only about a quarter of a tank which was much less than fifty dollars.

If you read Jay's post yesterday, you know that our pipes froze and we didn't have any hot water. Some genius put the water heater in the garage that has no insulation. It works except when the temperature gets close to zero. Two years ago, this same thing happened and we learned that if we just left one of our faucets dripping all the time, even at night, then the pipes were safe. Thawing the pipe in the garage took awhile yesterday, and Jay thought his efforts were for naught but we were saved a hundred dollar plumbing bill and haven't turned the water off since. I'm not sure Jay loves these northern winters.

P.S. This is why I didn't post yesterday. I've been having a bit of stress in my life lately and needed to avoid another ranting post. Plus...I had a bit of laundry to do:)

At Least My Breath Is Fresh

This morning I had a dentist appointment. I am not one of those people who hate the dentist. I actually look forward to it. An entire hour of lying back not being able to talk. Not to mention noticeably better looking teeth afterwards. That is my idea of a good time. But I admit to feeling nervous during the "check-up". You know, when the hygienist gets out her pokey tool and checks your gums and reads off numbers to an assistant. She told me that they like to see gums in the1 to 3s range which indicate healthy tissue and any number greater indicates poor brushing. The butterflies began because I'm not a great flosser. And that is being kind to myself. In addition, I missed my last six month check up so it's actually been a year since I've been in the chair. She starts on my upper right gum (I'm sure this area has a name and number but I can't remember) and hallelujah...the numbers are threes! And they get better as she moves towards the middle. I admit to a few fours on the back bottom and took my scolding with true humility but I feared much worse. Now I have this fresh from the dentist feeling and no cavities! Score!

With Henry at a sitter and Sammy at preschool, I had hoped to run up to Sears to return some parts. But the dentist took a bit longer and I had a few books to return to the library. I picked up Sam at school and headed up to Sears.

**Alert! Strong language may follow.**

This post was almost titled "I HATE SEARS!" Two weeks ago, I mentioned the catastrophe that was our washer. Andrea's husband, Jason, just happens to be in the laundry business and called after reading about my woes to offer an alternative to the expensive repairs. He offered a new Maytag front loader at a price just a little more than the cost of the repairs. A new, dependable washer vs. a lemon crapper...it was a toss up. Jay and I chose the new Maytag. I immediately called Sears to cancel the repair order. Keep in mind that this phone call took place less than 24 hours from the original service call. The clueless customer service rep I talked to made note of my wishes and said that I should receive a call from them soon confirming the cancelled order and instructions for the refund.

That was December 29th. We went away for New Years Weekend and came home to no messages, no attempted calls. I gave it a few more days but then noticed the deduction from our checking account for the first half of the repairs. Again, I called Sears and gave them the entire history. Three transfers later, a young-sounding gent told me that unfortunately, the parts had already been shipped. I snapped and told them that I had cancelled way before those parts could have been off the shelves. He assured me that there was absolutely no way of knowing exactly when they were shipped(load of bull) but they were due to arrive at my home the next day. All I had to do was refuse the parts and once they were safely returned to their precious warehouse, I would receive my money back.

The next day I waited patiently for the delivery. Anxiously, I left once to go pick up Sammy from preschool and left a note on my door refusing the parts. I came home to the note still on the door and thought perhaps they had come then because there was no delivery the rest of the day. The following day was Friday and the only time I left my house was to go to the YMCA after school. Again, I left the note on the door. No delivery, no mention of attempted delivery. I'd call on Monday to see if the parts were noted as refused.

We left for the weekend and Monday I took the boys to their swimming lessons after school. What do you think was waiting for me on my porch when I returned??? Two blasted boxes from Sears! Big boxes! Heavy boxes! My blood was boiling. I mention that I still didn't have a working washer so having no clean clothes and a pile of stinky clothes probably didn't help my mood. I called Sears early the next morning and lit into them. Transfer, transfer, transfer, transfer....to Carl. Nobody seems to know what to do and nobody seems to know how I can get my money back. Carl tells me they are sending a service tech out to pick up the parts on Wednesday. Tuesday night, I receive an automated telephone call from Sears telling me in that helpful, computerized voice that a service tech will come between the hours of 8 am and 5 pm.
I skip volunteering in Seth's classroom because I don't want to miss the service guys. By 3:45, they still hadn't shown up and I needed to leave for the boys' swimming lessons. I leave a two-page note on the boxes and put them on my front porch for pick up. At 4:30, Sears calls me telling me they are sorry they missed me but if I'd like to reschedule, I can call their helpful 1-800 number. I call it and they explain that no one answered the phone at my house and they need to verify that someone is at the home before they actually send someone to the house. It would be way too much of an inconvenience otherwise.

I am not a yeller. I cry if I get overly frustrated (my brother-in-law, Rex, can attest to that). But when I called Sears last night, I warned the poor 18 year-old college student that I was done being nice and I was finished being patient. I was returning the parts to Sears, getting a refund and leaving them with the problem of getting those damn parts back to their warehouse. Transfer, transfer, transfer....to Paula. Paula looks on her computer for a place I can return them to and tells me the Northtown Mall has a parts and repair center. Fine. Goodbye.

I get a sitter for Henry because it would be way too hard to deal with these big boxes with him around. I switch cars with Jay so that I can have the truck. I drive the 20 minutes to the mall after preschool and my dentist appointment with Sam. Park. Walk in. Explain. Told to move my truck so they can unload the parts. Walk back to truck. Move truck. Unload boxes. Told inside by another guy that return is impossible. Their systems are completely incompatible and they can't return them for me. They have to be picked up by service guys who occasionally don't show up. I can leave them there if I insist (which I was doing) but he can't give me a refund. Unfortunately for my sanity, I need that $300. So the boxes got loaded back into the truck and I'm expecting a service call sometime between the hours of 8 am and noon tomorrow. I am never buying anything, not a lawnmower, not a pair of pajamas for my kids, not anything from Sears again. They don't care.

Once back in the truck, I decided to drive to a Verizon store to get new phones for Jay and I. We have both been eligible for upgrades for awhile and my phone is breaking (the hinge when you open it is really wobbly) and Jay can't hear anyone he's talking to. I am a confident online shopper and wanted to do it online but called customer service with one question and was talked into just going into a Verizon store. I get to the store and, I'm not joking, he told me I should just do it online. After my experience at Sears, I had no sympathy for young twenty somethings in sales. He half-heartedly helped me and then disappeared when I was ready to go. I waited at the counter for 10 minutes and then yelled that I was just going to do this online. He didn't care.

Other than that, I've had a lovely day. My teeth look and feel fabulous.

Book Review #27 - Gift From the Sea/Book Group Highlights

I had never heard of this book a month ago. Andrea bought it for last month's book club book exchange and after all of the books were opened, switching so she could have it back. Curious about her motives, we decided to read it this month. I didn't know the author. Lindbergh. Not an obscure name for sure but I didn't connect the dots at all (she was the wife of Charles Lindbergh - the pilot of the Spirit of St. Louis). Four nights ago I climbed into a hot bath and started reading. I immediately recognized that this book was special. Why does this woman know my thoughts?

Lindbergh uses the seashells she finds on her vacation as representations of the various stages and complications in a woman's life. The beginning of her book talks about the importance of finding space and solitude every once in a while for balance and recharging. What woman doesn't need that? What human doesn't need that? The next phase is the early love, the passionate period, when the relationship is pure and intense. I don't think this is exclusively romantic love either. I couldn't help but think of friendships with other women when you are first getting to know each other and we show our best selves. Then after a few years of friendship, the flakiness shows up or the selfishness. Children, work, callings, husbands -- crowd that former ease and to remain friends takes much more effort. The effort moves into the next phase which was my favorite because it is life - the oyster phase. The shell is not necessarily beautiful but strong and purposeful. The bond between the two halves has many connections - habit, love, devotion, history. The last part of the book delves into the later years, which I'm sure I will find deeply profound when I am experiencing it.

At the end of this copy of the book, the author revisits her words twenty years later. In that bathtub, I thought, "I had no idea this book was written in the seventies/eighties." Only to discover that it was written in the fifties. I would have never thought that my GenXness would relate to a famous, upper class woman on the east coast fifty years ago. To achieve such timelessness is a worthwhile feat. It wasn't her intent but the result speaks for itself. It is our lives as women and while we are essentially alone to experience it, we have this commonality that once acknowledged, should give us tremendous support to one another.

Along that vein, bookgroup was a great night to bond and recharge. There is something about getting together with a group of women who you have things in common with, who you like, who seem to like you that is such a treat. I would say most in our group really love our monthly visits. A lot of us have started blogs. It is an easy place to be friends. Kariann hosted and had a hot chocolate bar (lots of different flavored syrups and toppings) and desserts. I didn't get home until after 1:00 am and am paying for it today. Totally worth it though.

I Often Go Walking...

in meadows of clover. Not really. I've always thought that song was pretty dumb...especially as an ode to mothers. But today is my mom's birthday and I want to write down how significant a person she is to me. I don't have access to a lot of her history as she is in Myanmar and difficult to communicate with and most of the pictures I'd love to use are in their house in Montana. Someday, I'll try and do justice to this incredible woman.

Me and my mom the summer after I graduated from high school. She took me to the airport to send me to Europe. Brave woman.

In January 1935, in a small wooden house in Hall, Montana, my grandmother welcomed her seventh child into the world...a little girl she named Karen Francis. Considerably younger than her older sisters, Ruth, Anna Lou and Marie, she was the baby until her younger brother, Fred, came a couple of years later. She never knew three of her siblings, Mildred, Lynn and Marine as they had died in infancy and early childhood. She was expected to help out the family farm but her favorite thing to do was hide and read books. Chores were a means to an end and her love of books took her through school successfully to graduate valedictorian at her small high school in Drummond, Montana. She went on to BYU to major in English and taught at various high schools and colleges for a decade after graduation. She lost her father to a heart attack and her sister, brother-in-law and baby niece in an airplane crash during this time. Her mother was now in Utah and vacations were sometimes spent there but she had a severe case of the travel bug and often travelled to various places with friends, family or just by herself.

She married later than most of her friends at thirty-three and started her family right away. Her firstborn, Emily, was born nine months after her wedding day and the day after she and my dad moved into their first and only home. Life moved fast after that with children coming frequently and plentifully (five in seven years with the last a restful three years later) and a husband who was frequently busy with church leadership callings. After my grandmother's stroke, she provided care for her in our home for six years, even though it involved having three kids in one room, another two in another and her only boy relegated to sleeping in the fruit room (that's what we called the storage room with the washer and dryer...it had tons of bottled peaches and pears).

She's often longed for a bigger home, but has made do and created a beautiful, loving home for all of us to enjoy returning to. A natural and gifted teacher, she looked into teaching English for BYU in China and when my dad was ready to retire, they practically caught the first plane. Even after a medical scare and against medical advice, she and my dad returned for a second year following both of their promptings. After a brief respite, she and my dad are now serving in Myanmar, a country located between Thailand and Bangladesh in Southeast Asia as humanitarian missionaries. I can only hope I have the courage and selflessness to follow their example when I am at that stage in life.

I've inherited many things from my mother. Her love of reading, for sure, and the ability to get through a novel quickly. We both love to travel and explore, eat off of pretty dishes, play computer games and drink diet soda. We can both be a little ditzy at times which doesn't bother me because I know we are also both quick and smart when it matters. I've always enjoyed talking to my "liberal" mother who can always see both sides of the story and never gets caught up in sides. She has a firm grasp of the gospel and often makes me think and wonder about things I hadn't before. We used to talk on the phone almost daily or chat through instant messaging but they lack access to that sort of technology so I am limited to emails and blogs. (I've already explained previously about the difficulty in calling - 14 1/2 hour time difference). I miss her tremendously but wanted to let her know I'm wishing her a happy birthday wherever she is.

I have a very poor selection of pictures of her so thought I'd post what's closest to her heart...her grandchildren. Happy Birthday Mom!

Reading to Sammy, Owen and Ansel

Grandma and Sammy

With Seth at Temple Square

Taking Seth and Ansel for a walk

Brendan's first Christmas

visting Caleb and Alyssa

Always willing to help out with our newborns

Natalie and Grandma at the family reunion this last summer

Baby Owen

Henry Turns One

One year ago, in about an hour, I met Henry face to face. I wrote his birth story several months ago so I thought I'd be simple and share some of my favorite photos from each month of his life. Sadly, I hardly took any when he was two to six months old. But you can see how much he's changed. He's not walking yet but he's an expert crawler so it might be awhile until he sees a need to travel by foot. His development seems focused onto his teeth as his two bottom molars just pushed through this week. That makes 10 teeth! We are weening him off of his baby food and made him eat cut up pizza tonight. It's time he learns about the budget. I am also going to cut his hair this week. I love his long, lucious locks but he gets called a girl several times a week, no matter what he is wearing, and my tradition has always been to cut it for the first time at a year. I am going to miss his wild mane, though.

First Day of Life!

Four Weeks Old and fighting for life.

Two Months and filling out.

In Austin with Mom and Dad at three months.

Storytime with big brothers at four months

Stuck in my carseat at swim lessons at five months.

Cute as a button at seven months

At Silverwood at eight months

Saying goodbye to Grandpa and Grandma in Helena at nine months

Could I get any cuter at ten months?

Bundled for travel at 11 months

Henry has amazing persistence, charm, determination and curiosity. I can't imagine life without him.

Digging into the free cake from Rosaurs!

All clean! Watch out world.

The Last Few Days

Playing catch-up...again.

Friday was the end of a long week. I knew that I needed to have some alone time with Jay. We had spent the previous weekend together with friends but were always surrounded by kids and after another busy week of just passing by each other, I hired the twins for Friday night. But Seth and Sam seemed to need some physical outlet so when Seth came home from school, I told the boys to go get their swimsuits and we'd go swimming at the YMCA. It took awhile to get out there as it had started to snow. I was talking on the phone with Sarah while I was driving and while turning at 5 mph, I skidded into a pole. Amazingly, I still can't find any damage (I keep thinking I'm just not noticing some huge dent in my front bumper). We ran inside the building from the swirling snow and were told that the pool was closed for renovations until the seventh. My kids were bummed but while I was out there I signed both Seth and Sam up for after school swim lessons and Seth for basketball. So it wasn't completely fruitless. Driving home, I barely made it up the hill. I have got to get new tires.

Because the weather was so awful, all I really wanted to do when it was time to pick them up the sitters was sip hot chocolate, turn on our Presto Heat Dish downstairs and watch a movie. But we were determined to date and got in the truck with four wheel drive and drove to a nearby restaurant only to discover a 45 minute wait. Jay wasn't sold on the restaurant in the first place so we decided to leave. No particular type of food was striking my fancy but Jay was in the mood for steak so I told him I'd heard good things about a restaurant downtown. We drove there and it said "Seafood and Steak" on the building. Ominous for a non seafood eater. Feeling hopeful for good steak, we went inside. The only steak they had was over $40 and the rest was every type of seafood imaginable. They had one pork dish (which I ordered...I really should have been more adventurous but it was expensive and who likes to spend $20 for something yucky) and we shared a bowl of French Onion Soup. They weren't kidding. They had scooped out an onion and had the soup inside of it. Clever but it limits the quantity of soup and I'm not mature enough to appreciate pretty food. I would have just preferred a big bowl. We scraped the bottom of the produce as best we could until the waiter whisked it away (apparently it's quite gauche to scrape at this restaurant). The pork was uninspiring and Jay had the trout with tiger prawns. I don't think we'd ever go back but at least we got to talk which was what I was really craving.

Yesterday, we drove down to Jen and Christopher's because they were blessing Sadie today. Jon and Tara came over too and all the cousins got some playing done. Christopher barbecued and his parents and sister and husband came over. We watched the Seahawks/Cowboys came and were screaming by the end. It's an experience watching sporting events with Jon and Tara. Especially a game that has a stunning ending like that game did. You kind of get caught up in the moment. After the kids went to bed, we pulled out the nifty Karaoke system that has been useful in providing endless entertainment. As always, there was a few tentative numbers to start the show but once Christopher lit into "Wild Boys" by Duran Duran (he has quite the power false setto), it was game on.

Christopher has many talents and I'd list Karaoke right up there at the top.

Jon was always ready to shake his grove thing but wasn't afraid of the ballad either. We enjoyed a moving rendition of "Silent Lucidity" by Queensryche. The good old days.

Tara and I feeling DEBORAH (she's grown up now, afterall) Gibson. I know it looks like I'm swept away by the moment but I think I just blinked.

Jon's dance. If you know it, you love it.

Don't count Jay out. He still holds the all time best score.

A little NKOTB (If you don't know what that means, you're lucky) Hanging Tough. Woh-oh-oh-oh-oh. I adore my family.

Sadie's blessing was wonderful. Christopher has such a way with words and it was striking to see her surrounded by her father, grandfather and uncles.

Happy Parents. Hopefully Jen will post a better picture of her georgeous dress.

She really is probably the sweetest baby I have ever been around.

Scrumptious

She doesn't cry unless she's been sleeping for 10 hours and happens to feel a bit hungry. Otherwise, she quietly gazes at you or gives a bewitching smile. It's very easy to fall in love with her.

All our kids but Owen (he was too excited for nursery). Natalie was sick and Sam was Sam. I think he was upset that he didn't get better billing on the seating arrangement.

Our attempt. We just never pull off that nice family picture that other families seem capable of.

Case in point minus poor sick Natalie.

We were glad to be driving west as Jon and Tara's way home was closed. They ended up having to drive all the way to Portland and then up to Seattle. Our roads were fine but it was extremely windy. My boys are about ready to go to bed and I'm gearing myself up for a busy week. Swimming lessons start tomorrow!

A Little Like My Dad

When I was in high school, I was our ward's choir accompanist. My Dad was the director and we usually had about four people show up. The four people weren't quite equal in talent. My mom was always there as a soprano and she has a beautiful voice. There were usually two other women, one would sing soprano with my mom but was quiet and the alto was Deanne who was a little off her rocker. The fourth ward was a tad defunct. They had split the wards when I was a freshman to create a new one and it seemed fourth ward got the short end of the stick. My point being, our choir wasn't very good. My Dad kept up the tenor part by singing loudly but he wasn't facing the congregation and I'm not certain about the bass section. Sometimes there were more but the four were the core.

I can be a bit of a musical snob. Not always but sometimes and in high school I was. I was in Saturday's Children (have you ever heard of a more lame name for a choir?), a select mixed choir of 16 and had certain expectations. (Looking back and comparing to bigger school choirs now like my sister Maureen's - we weren't even very good). It exasperated me when we would run through a song a couple of times and my dad would say, "Good. O.K. Now let's turn to . . ." We didn't go through parts, the song didn't seem polished. I wondered if my dad was deaf or just didn't care.

Now I realize it was neither. I think he was just wise. No amount of rehearsal can produce a sound better than the singers making it. And rather than deflating each of the singers and the choir as a whole, he wore those rosy colored glasses and didn't dwell on the small stuff (like intonation, breathing, vowel sounds etc.). He wanted our little choir to convey the spirit of the song and enjoy singing. The amazing thing is, that little group usually pulled it off and sounded decent during the performance. My mom joked that he parented like he directed the choir. He just willed us to turn out without worrying about all the details - and we did!

Last night was the most humbling practice in my stake choir directing history. I was very unprepared and it showed. I ordered an arrangement of Army's of Helaman late and was very lucky in it being delivered yesterday at around 4:30 pm. I looked through it and then ran to the copy center to make copies of Love Is Spoken here (the other song we are doing). Jay was on call yesterday so I had to get sitters for my kids and I called the old reliables. I picked up the twins at 6:00 and left for the stake center. I figured I could staple there and run through the songs once more.

I always start right on time (why reward lateness?) and only had three singers at 6:30. My accompanist wasn't even there yet (probably since I had only asked her the day before) so I was over at the piano and it just wasn't going well. When my accompanist showed up ten minutes later, I had one tenor, two basses, one alto, four sopranos and three children (all of the songs are combined with a children's choir). By the end of choir, I only had one more alto. It was a sad, sorry practice. And there is only so much you can do. We worked on each song but they didn't sound great. Not that the singers were bad but you just don't sound good when you have numbers like that. There is no balance and none of the three men there were super confident singers. I learned that the poor attendance was most likely due to the Rubber Chicken Game(which is the annual rivalry basketball game between the two high schools on the South Hill). I'm hoping so. I will also make a lot of personal phone calls with personal invitations. But I'm not panicky. Even if that little group is all I'm going to get, then perhaps I can just will it to turn out like some of the historical fourth ward choirs. In this regard, an in many others, I'm hoping I can be a little like my dad.

100 Things About Me

1. I don't have a middle name.
2. My second toe is longer than my big toe.
3. I can completely block out noises when I'm reading (to the annoyance of others)
4. I throw up almost every day when I'm pregnant. (And often multiple times a day)
5. I love music but prefer silence when I get the chance to choose now.
6. I made fun of cheerleaders until my brother married one (and I realized that it's actually a huge skill. . . except spirit fingers and that head toss. I still totally mock that.)
7. I wish my hair could be wet all of the time. It just feels better.
8. I don't like overhead light. Lamps rule!
9. My ankles are extremely ticklish.
10. I had bad acne in high school until I went on accutane.
11. I have a great short term memory and did well in school.
    
12. I never put my keys in the same place so I am constantly looking for them.
13. I can boogie.
14. I am HORRIBLE at organization.
15. My first job after college was in a diagnostic virology lab at CU and my starting salary was $20,000. I thought we had made it big.
16. I have three sons.
17. I've made one quilt.
18. I can't stand the taste or smell of cantaloupes.
19. I wanted a potato bar at my wedding reception. Tots, mashed, hashbrowns, cheesy....
20. I love to drive.
21. I didn't go to church my sophomore year of college.
22. I am afraid of rejection.
23. My feet are almost always hot. Jay's are almost always cold. We are a perfect match.
    
24. I only have one brother.
25. My favorite shape is a square. My diamond is square, my table is square. I love square knobs...
    
26. I don't like to be trendy or do what other people do or like. (That's why doing meme's like this are a bit hard for me...I don't like to be a follower)
27. I have perfect vision. (without lasik)
28. I've always longed for a bosom buddy, kindred spirit, soul sister. The kind movies are made out of. I have had best friends in different eras of my life though.
29. I frequently think I should have been a man.
30. I have 29 nieces and nephews.
31. I've been to 14 different countries.
32. I'm very pale - the make up ladies are always surprised that I use the lightest shade of foundation.
33. I never watch T.V. during the day.
    
34. I have a hard time finishing a can of soda but can easily suck down 32 oz of fountain soda.
35. I wish I could speak French fluently (but I practice regularly reading the shampoo bottles in the shower).
36. My favorite toys growing up were Barbies and Hot Wheels.
37. I had straight hair as a child, curly hair as a teen and young adult and limp, dull flat hair as a mom.
38. I don't like being read to.
39. My favorite flower is a tulip.
40. I have four sisters.
41. I've never given away a Book of Mormon. See #22.
42. My favorite color has always been brown except for a short purple faze in third grade. I hate that it is so popular now.
43. I've always wanted to be a collector or person that has favorites but other than the shape and color don't really have any. I remember choosing a raccoon as my favorite animal but that didn't last.
44. I actually like cleaning but hate interruptions so I never get to enjoy it.
    
45. My first job was cleaning my Dad's office.
    
46. I loathe being hot.
47. I procrastinate.
48. I've always wanted to be in a musical.
49. I lack ambition. If it's going to cause personal discomfort, I'll avoid it.
50. I gave myself a middle name growing up. Beth.
51. My eyes are dark brown.
52. I am 5'10".
53. I loved growing up in Montana.
54. BYU was hard for me until I met Jay. Then I loved it. Freshman year had a few glimpses too.
55. I feel like I have a lot of empathy for others.
56. I gained a strong testimony of the gospel my junior year at BYU.
57. I am not loyal to any brand.
58. I don't like buying books.
59. I like knowing the time but never wear a watch.
60. I usually order the same things at restaurants.
61. I don't like being scared. Movies, haunted houses, mazes....all stupid.
62. I often let the answering machine pick up.
63. I love to hike but haven't been in awhile.
64. I always thought I'd have daughters.
65. Someday, I want a BMW.
66. I want to be generous when we can be.
67. I hate taking the garbage out.
68. I've only had one massage ever and hated it. Ouch!
69. I miss playing my loud piano pieces. I can't remember them anymore.
70. I regret letting some of my friendships go.
71. I have no tolerance for whining.
72. I don't like to craft.
73. I am totally going to hire someone to decorate my home someday.
74. I won't rule out plastic surgery.
75. My favorite time of the day is 11:11.
76. I love birthdays!
77. I love looking at people's photo albums.
78. I don't understand nail biting.
79. I get dizzy when I look up at high things.
80. My toes tingle when I get scared.
81. I've had two of my babies without an epidural (not by choice)
82. I think I'd be a wine drinker if not for the Word of Wisdom.
83. I dislocated my shoulder jet skiing in high school and it still gets sore.
84. I've run in four Bolder Boulders and gotten slower each time I've done it.
85. My sleep number is 35.
86. I like lifting weights but hate going to a gym.
87. I wish I lived in the same town as some member of our family.
88. I'm glad I didn't go to medical school.
89. Someday, I'd like to get my music degree.
90. I'm not into art.
91. I love to travel.
92. I always use fabric softener.
93. I'm not the most fertile woman in the world.
94. I love romantic tension. I'm a little sad Pam and Jim got together.
95. My first kiss was while watching Christmas Vacation.
96. I'm an alto.
97. I'm very independent.
98. I prefer small gatherings to big parties.
99. I wore braces for two years in high school.
100. I can type 89 words per minute.

Anyone else want to try?

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing

While I attended Four Georgians Elementary School, each grade had three teachers. It seemed with each grade, two of the three teachers were desirable teachers and one was undesirable. Before the school year started, the class lists would be posted on the front doors of the school. Many bike rides were taken between my house and the school in the weeks before school started to check for these lists. When the lists were up and the class determined, our fates were sealed. Up until fourth grade, I had been lucky in my placement. Mrs. Veroulis for first grade was easily the most likable. Miss Kottas for second (she was the young, fun one) and Mrs. Frankino for third. But in 1984, my luck ran out. I rode the mile to the school on my bicycle and there it was . . . my name underneath Mr. Murphy. Not only was I in Mr. Murphy's class but I didn't have a single friend from third grade in my class. I don't remember much of third grade. . . but I had friends and did well in school. I remember rocking all of my time tables and feeling confident in my academic abilities.

That all changed in fourth grade.

The first day of fourth grade before it all went downhill.

Mr. Murphy's classroom was set up with desks in rows. Each row had five desks and was separated by an aisle. Desk placement was earned with good behavior and the ultimate award was a front row desk. The kids in the front stayed there until they lost their spot and had to move to the back of the row. Somehow I ended up in the back of the row and stayed there the entire year. Oh, I moved up a seat from time to time but I always got in trouble for talking. Each of my quarter report cards has a big "N" for Avoids Unnecessary Talking. The "N" standing for Needs Improvement. It was the elementary equivalent of an "F" after S-, S, S+ and E. I hovered there in the back two seats the entire year. It's true that you start to bond with other riff raff when you are treated like one. I was friends in class with all of the trouble makers which is probably why I got all of those "N"s. But they were all boys so their friendship in class didn't continue past the doors at recess.

That's me in the multi colored shirt in the back row. New girl, Becky, is right by me.

Recess was so painful. At the beginning of the year, I clung onto my old 3rd grade friendships but soon those girls were best friends with the other girls in their class and each clique started systematically dumping me. That was the term for losing a person at recess. When you wanted them to go away, you "dumped" them. Then the rest of the group would usually link arms and walk away. I started hanging out with the adult recess aids. I remember linking arms with Mrs. Anderson. I thought she looked like Farrah Fawcett (which looking back, she was probably actually trying to). A new girl moved into my class, Becky, and I thought she was fabulous. We were friends for about a week when the other fourth grade girls also realized that she was fabulous so she joined their group.

I vividly recall thinking that I was flunking fourth grade and that I was going to be held back. Which is bizarre because beside that big, red "N", I had great grades. I don't really know why it was no one liked me. It could have been that mullet I was sporting but I'm fairly certain that was the look of the day.

Tell me I wasn't the only one with this look

What has stayed with me is how lonely it is to be left out and how easy it is to feel bad about other parts of your life when another is lacking. It has shaped how I act today. I've always had several different groups of friends. No laying all of my eggs in one basket for me! All through Jr. High and High School, I had these distinctly separate groups of friends that I would hover between. Some weekends I would hang out with my sports friends. Other weekends my MTI friends, or church friends or choir friends. It made it hard to really bond with any of them but because I wasn't exclusive, I insured against any dumping.

The glorious thing is my complete nerdiness was isolated to fourth grade. The first day of fifth grade, before class even started, Brenda Barraugh (one of the most popular girls in the entire school) played jacks with me. By recess, I was in like Flynn and it just went up from there. Sixth grade, my friend Lisa and I ruled the school. That might have been my social climax though.

New Years Weekend

I've been home all day but haven't felt inclined to post. I don't know why. I've mentioned before how I don't enjoy catch-up blogs. It's not that fun to write or read. Plus, I'm in sort of a slump today. But if I wait any longer, it won't happen so here goes...

The Rolands invited us to their recently purchased cabin in North Idaho for the weekend. We were planning on taking Seth skiing for the first time on Saturday and then heading over to their cabin for the rest of New Years weekend. But Schweitzer ran out of space for our kids' lessons so we signed up for Monday lessons instead.

The cabin. There was so much snow. If I tried walking in it, it went right up to my knee.

We had a great weekend. KariAnn is one of the best homemakers I know. By that, I mean she makes a cozy, inviting home. They had spruced up that little cabin with new floors, cute signs and a beautiful stone hearth. All of our kids slept in sleeping bags in the loft and we slept in one of the two bedrooms she had decorated with log beds and cute quilts. There was no live T.V. (they do have one there for movies) and no cell phone service so complete isolation from the real world was possible. We played a lot of games...settlers of catan, knights and cities, the great dalmuti, spades, balderdash, metro and some games with the kids. We went on a winter hike and sled down their large pile of snow.

Our kids get along so well. Sammy and Reese watching a movie.

Seth, Abbie and Reese making ice balls (they were MUCH harder than snowballs)

Sammy in the snow

Jay sledding down the snowplow pile.

Alec, Sammy, Reese, Abbie and Seth

Chad's brother and his wife came up on New Years Eve and we stayed up late playing games and singing Karaoke. I'm amazed that we didn't wake up our kids because Bohemian Rhapsody got a little loud!

Chad and Jay singing a George Strait love song together which I found highly amusing. This was actually earlier in the day.

Kariann and Chad belt out The Gambler while Blair and Becca look for their next song.

Monday we drove up to Schweitzer and got Seth, Reese and Abbie all set up for their lessons. They were all beginners so they put them in the "low" group and they wore red vests. Jay went Snowboarding and I hung out in the lodge with Sam and Henry. It wasn't my best day ever. I had a hard time watching Seth on the mountain from through the window of the lodge. We bought him skis at the ski swap this year so his were a little longer than the other kids in his class and it took him longer to figure out the snowplow. But he figured it out and started zooming down the mountain with no trouble.

Once Seth's lesson was over, Jay spent the rest of the afternoon on the beginner hill with the kids and I drove back to the cabin to pack up all of our stuff. We took the truck because we knew there was so much snow and the van has bad tires. It started to snow and I got soaked loading and securing everything with a tarp and a rope. Henry, Sam and I drove back up to Schweitzer and waited for Seth and Jay to finish. I had a little black cloud over my head by that time but when I saw Seth's face and heard him exclaim, "Mom, this was the funnest thing I've ever done. I loved it!" it made it all worth while. If I do it again, I will be better prepared to deal with a one-year old though.

Seth on his bum in the snow during his lesson. I took this picture from the lodge and that's as zoomed as I could get.

We got home later than we expected because the roads were so bad and there was a lot of traffic. The boys slept like they hadn't slept in days (which perhaps was true) and I went to bed at 9:00 pm. Today, I seem to need a vacation from my vacation.

2006 was a great year. 2007 is going to be exciting. We will be busy getting our house ready to sell, moving. . . I don't want to think beyond that because it makes me a little sad.

As for goals (because it wouldn't be new years without them...), I want to send a thank-you note every time I should instead of just thinking about it for a few weeks and then shrugging it off because too much time has passed. I want to read my scriptures regularly. I want to exercise 5 times a week. I want to start a chore system for our family. There are more but those are the ones I thought of right now typing this. Total Lucy Renovation is going to be quite a feat so I'll start small.

Happy New Year!