Nice Matters. Even when I forget.

I forgot Seth at school yesterday.

I feel horrible. He's old enough to remember this. In fact, when I told Jay about my awful goof, he sort of sucked the air in through his teeth and said, "I remember my mom doing that once." See? It scars a child. He's never going to fully trust me again. The next time I'm late, he's going to wonder right away, maybe even panic, if I've forgotten him.

It wasn't that I was stressed or busy or late. I just forgot. I had my niece and nephew over playing (Kelly and I are switching watching kids; she watches mine in the morning so I can volunteer and I watch hers in the afternoon so she can do whatever she needs. I hope she naps because she is almost 30 weeks pregnant and has still has some bad days) and suddenly it was a half hour after school gets out. I sort of shrieked and scared everyone, put the little ones in their car seats as fast as I possibly could and drove my mini-van like I was expecting the checkered flag (my NASCAR knowledge came in handy there). Seth had left our meeting place, but I could see him walking along the school, all alone. Not a single other student outside, no adults anywhere...just my little boy in his pale yellow polo wondering where his mom was.

I screeched around the block to meet him at the front of the school, where I was hoping he was walking to, and when I saw him, I felt even worse. His face was tear-streaked, his nose snotty, and he had had an accident.

"Where were you!?!" he sobbed. "Where were you!?! What were you doing??!!"

I hugged him, begged for forgiveness, admitted that I had just forgot and begged for forgiveness again. He told me in shame that he just couldn't hold it anymore and wet his pants, expecting me to be somehow disappointed in him, and I reassured him that that was low, low, low on the totem pole of mistakes that day. I had nothing to offer as penance, except the front seat, which he has never sat in before. He climbed up into the seat where we could hold clammy hands and started driving home. Then he started reading the gigantic warning label on the back of the sun visor about the certain death that would befall anyone under the age of 12 sitting in that seat. As Seth is a rule follower, that wasn't my best parenting moment either.

We got home, he changed his clothes, we cuddled and talked about emergencies and what to do in different circumstances. I told him he had done the exact right thing: wait for me a while and then head back into the office where the secretaries can call me or an emergency contact. Now, I've lost any sort of grace period I might have enjoyed. No more couple of minutes late. I will be there on time.

I wasn't going to blog about this. I think I share enough of my lameness and this unfortunate situation happens to embarrass me. In fact, I was sitting down to blog about Lei's kind Nice Matters Blog Award nomination, and nominate seven blogs that I think are deserving of this award. Then Kelly A. called and I got distracted.

We talked about lots of different things, but at some point, she said something about bringing dinner and another alarm went off in my head. Yesterday won't go down as my best day ever.

There is a woman in my new ward, who I have never met, who has an advanced stage of breast cancer. She is young, younger than me, and has a four year-old and a one-year old. They've mentioned her in Relief Society a number of times now and passed around a clipboard with days to sign up to bring her family meals. I don't know her, but remember the heartache of my own sister-in-law's illness so I signed up. For Thursday evening.

I know I remembered on Wednesday but I forgot on the day that mattered. Kelly, who really is the queen of great ideas, consoled me and told me to go over sometimes today with a coloring book and crayons, maybe some McDonald's gift certificates and some brownies. I know they are great ideas, and I'm going to do it, but I still feel awful letting this poor family down.

Nice matters. And while I am not feeling particularly deserving of Lei's thoughtful attention, these bloggers certainly come to mind when I read the purpose of the award.

It is for "those bloggers who are nice people; good blog friends & those who inspire good feelings and inspiration. Also for those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you've been awarded please pass it on to 7 others who you feel are deserving of this award."

Not me yesterday, but something I'd like to aspire to most other days. And these bloggers seem capable of it full-time:

Lei at My Many Colored Days. I know she nominated me, but she is seriously the nicest, most inspirational blogger I've ever read. In fact, it took me awhile to leave a comment on her blog, because I had to hate her. Not really, but her awesomeness is that intimidating.

My parents at Montana to Myanmar. They aren't really caught up in the blogging world, but they are the nicest people I know, totally inspirational, and doing a heckuva lot of good on their mission. If you read about the good they do, they are a wonderful, uplifting addition to the blog world.

Andrea at Half-Dozen Cuties. Andrea is one of the nicest people I've ever known, and her blog is always upbeat and hopeful. She is always encouraging and has been one of my biggest supporters, loves blogging and all of its blessings and uses hers for good.

Jill at Creativity, Musings and Such. After the lovely and absolutely bizarre (in a good way, it's just foreign to me) showering of thoughtful birthday wishes from people I hardly know that have added warmth to my mailbox this last week, I have to give Jill credit for her support and spread of "Good Mail." Many bloggers have been inspired and joined in this tradition and you really do get a pick-me-up when an envelope comes in the mail with actual handwriting and a stamp. Plus, with her daily updates, her absolute realness, her comments of support, she knows that nice matters and she shows it every day through her blog.

Victoria at Just Breathe. She has been busy this summer, and hasn't updated much this month, but when she's around, she's known for her inspiration and kindness. In fact, she's pretty much what this award is all about.

Donna at The Dentist's Wife. The thing I love about Donna's blog is how much she loves to do it. She frequently changes the look of it, adding new things as she discovers them. She also comments on so many people's blogs, always leaving a happy face. She's a good person and it shows.

And finally, my friend, Jenny at Organized Mayhem. From her goal of doing a good deed a day to her thoughtfulness and generosity when it comes to birthdays or events, she is a positive influence on the blogging world. After all, she got me into it! She's definitely a good blog friend and the blog world is enriched, not to mention - cleaner, with her in it.

It's certainly not limited to these seven, And I'm not a superfan of blog awards (because who's in charge????), but I do think that nice matters. Thank you for being nice to me.

Lunch For Two

Four weeks into the school year, and I think Seth has found a buddy. His name is Ethan and for safety reasons, I'll omit his last name but I think his parents might be Tom Cruise fans. Ethan and Seths' desks sit side by side in the classroom, and they seem to have moved their classroom friendship onto the playground during recess. This is very relieving, because for the first couple of weeks, the answer I received after asking what he did for recess was almost always, "I ran around by myself." Not exactly music to my ears. At least he wasn't getting picked on.

I first noticed Ethan on back-to-school night when he entered the classroom with his parents shortly after we arrived. While he was showing his parents his desk and different areas of the classroom, I perceived him to be an extremely bright kid, very precocious, whose parents were older and had that distracted, frazzled, mad scientist look about them. In other words, they didn't show a lot of concern about their style or appearance, but looked like happy, smart, normal and supportive parents. I knew that I wouldn't mind if Ethan and Seth chose to be friends.

Today in gym, Seth and Ethan were partners during this seemingly simple game where they tried to throw bean bags into each other's hula-hoops. Their object was to try to not let any land inside the ring. Not super physical, but maybe that's not the point of gym class anymore.

I've since learned that in addition to having adjacent desks, Ethan and Seth are in their own reading group. I'm a bit relieved, because I have seen Ethan's papers when I've been into volunteer and he really is a smart little boy. Seth's teacher has her work cut out for her because there are kids that aren't reading at all, and ones like Ethan, who it must be hard to keep challenged. I don't think Seth is quite as advanced, but I'm glad his teacher is bringing Seth along for the ride. Don't misunderstand me, Seth is very smart, and a great reader, but Ethan is advanced, closer to a fifth or sixth grade reading level.

I've also learned that they share a lunch.

That little tidbit of information first caught my attention earlier this week. As I was making lunch, and putting some grapes in a small sandwich baggie, Seth said, "Oh, good. Ethan really likes grapes."

Upon further questioning, I've discovered that Seth and Ethan sharing lunch is a daily habit mostly due to the fact that, "Ethan doesn't get very good stuff in his lunch." Apparently, he never gets a sandwich, just pretzels and applesauce, and never anything to drink. I guess Ethan asked if he could have some of Seth's lunch one day and their new tradition was formed.

I haven't really minded, though. Seth assures me that he still gets enough food and besides, isn't that what school friends do? I remember trading my Zinger for a Ho-Ho.

This bizarre thing is, since I have known about their own little law of consecration, I have started to pack with Ethan in mind. I feel a sense of pride when I pack some good, fresh, juicy grapes. And yesterday, instead of three, I put four little gluten-free gingersnaps in Seth's lunch because I figured four was more fair.

Today is my volunteer day and last week, as I left, I promised Seth and several kids that I would eat lunch with them the next time I visited their classroom. Not wanting cafeteria food, or the humble gluten free offerings I would usually send with Seth, I picked up a foot-long ham sandwich from Subway. While I was ordering, I wondered if I needed to get more for Ethan. I decided buying extra food was unnecessary and stuck with the foot-long, half for Seth, half for me, with extra veggies, and added the three cookies for a dollar. That's right. One for me. One for Seth. One for Ethan.

When I pulled our lunch out of its bag, Ethan in his socially clueless, very precocious way declared, "Seth and I share a lunch now. What did you get?" I would have been bugged, perhaps even should have been, but I wasn't. I just joined their tribe-- laid out my offerings and let them divy up the spread. One ham sandwich, one large bottle of apple juice, three chocolate-chip cookies, ten ritz crackers and two rice cakes.

Ritz crackers and rice cakes? No wonder he doesn't like his lunches. Poor kid. He obviously isn't starving, though, because when he saw the sandwich, he announced that he didn't like onions and thus didn't want any sandwich (one of my onions must have strayed). Then he went on to say, "but I would enjoy one of the delicious cookies and some refreshing beverage." Yeah, I know.

Ethan giving the "hang loose" sign.

Seth tries out this new sign language.

It may seem like Seth is getting the bum end of the deal, but Seth ate over half of Ethan's Ritz crackers and seemed completely content. I guess it really is win-win.

But I think I might start packing two juice boxes. Watching them take turns with the bottle of apple juice kind of grossed me out.

I wonder what flavor Ethan likes?

Reading Rut

There aren't many labels I feel comfortable attaching to myself, but I've always fancied myself a reader. I like to read and I'm pretty good at it. If I find the book interesting, and have clean underwear in everyones' drawers and easily accessible cheese sticks in the fridge, I can pump out a rather hefty novel in a day. I'm that good at ignoring my other responsibilities.

But I feel...stuck. I went to the library the other day and picked up and put back. Nothing stayed in my basket. I have two books at home that I should be reading: The Hiding Place, which stares accusingly at me every time I get on my blog and see it on my sidebar, and on my nightstand where it continually gets ignored, and The Hemingway Bookclub of Kosovo, that my mother-in-law sent me because "she knows that I can read it fast" and pass it along.




Meanwhile, I have been reading book five in the Gabaldon series, The Fiery Cross, and it's the first book in the series that feels all of it's 992 pages.



There is so much historical detail that it feels a bit like drudgery to pick it up. All my previous whining about how there needs to be less nipples and more drama and now, I'm screaming because there's too much stuff about the Regulators and the pre-Revolutionary war fracas. I'm hoping my underwhelming appreciation for her research and historically accurate tale is simply due to the rut, and not a newly acquired preference to read novels about nipples. I've enjoyed all the previous books immensely. So why is it so easy for me to put this mammoth book down after only 20 pages? Do I realize how long it is going to take me to finish if I continue at this pace? Books are piling up. Eclipse is available now. Does Bella become a vampire? I'd like to read that sometime this year.


Three times this week I've seen requests for ideas about books to read and I become all panicky because I've got nothing new, nothing fresh to offer! I worry I'm in danger of losing my membership among the "readers."

I really hope my reading rut is due to it being hot and light out at night. Maybe it's the books I'm trying to read. Whatever it is, I miss reading.

32 - and two days.

There are advantages to birthdays when you blog. One, more people remember. (Hint: It helps if you sound out a warning cry a couple of days in advance...something along the lines of, "I'm so busy preparing my (insert any distraction here - I used talk) that I'm worried I won't be able to relax and enjoy my birthday on Saturday. - it totally works!)

Another advantage...you get more stuff. Oh, for shame the materialism! It's not the stuff that makes the day, but it's the thought, the attention, the adoration. Getting more stuff is directly linked to more people remembering, by the way. Weigh that in when deciding how early to plant the seeds. Too early...you might run into burnout. Too late and some may give up. It's a delicate balance.

The biggest advantage is you know it's going on the blog. I did not want to write about the six loads of laundry I folded (that will be tomorrow's post) or going grocery shopping. Talk or not, I packed my day with an eclectic array of company and entertainment.

The day began early. That Henry...wanting to be the first to wish me joy! He couldn't wait any longer and had to boldly declare his happy greeting at 5:30 am. I love you too, buddy! If I'm not being too irrational, getting up early with him can be enjoyable. All he wants to do is cuddle, so we cuddled for over an hour.

Seth and Sam woke up around seven. I got on the computer for a little bit and Seth came upstairs to tell me that breakfast was ready. I went downstairs to discover three bowls of Fruity Pebbles poured out. (Fruity Pebbles and Cocoa Pebbles are the only, large national brand gluten-free cereal so it's become a staple on those mornings when time is of the essence or I don't want to blend or crack eggs. And the Malt-O-Meal knock off Fruity Dinobytes are also gluten free but the cocoa dinobytes are not. Tricky!) Two were in our Pfaltzgraff Heritage bowls (how many of you have this pattern? I've found it to be rather common.) and one was in a plastic IKEA bowl. I asked which one was mine and Sammy broke out into tears. Apparently, he was assigned the smaller IKEA bowl which didn't seem fair to him. I agreed and lucked out with a half-filled, small bowl of Fruity Pebbles. Yummy. And so, so sweet (literally).

The birthday bowl. I loved it...even the spilled milk.

The final arrangement. Everyone was happy with this.

My plan was to meet my sisters and Sarah's friend, Rochelle, at 9:15 and get a crepe for breakfast at European Connection and then see the 10 am showing of Becoming Jane. Apparently crepes are no longer considered breakfast menu items as the restaurant didn't open up until 11:00. We settled for a Jamba Juice and Sarah bought me a Caribbean Passion smoothie. After we finished sipping our smoothies, we walked over to the theater and Maureen bought my ticket as a birthday gift. It was too early and we were too full to buy any overpriced refreshments so we went into the estrogen-filled theater and enjoyed the early show. I don't know how much of it is true (the movie basically portrayed Jane Austen as the exact same personality, with much of the same life, as Elizabeth Bennett. But, as I adore Elizabeth Bennett...I didn't really mind.) It's a great movie if you're into period romances. It's beautiful and clever and the kind of story Jane Austen, herself, would have enjoyed or written.

I don't love the self-portraits. I didn't manage to include Rochelle in the shot but I got all of my chins.

10:05 am! Woot!

Lovely ladies to be willing to celebrate with me so early on a Saturday.

I wanted to get a pedicure afterwards, but we hadn't made an appointment and Maureen thought it unlikely that the four of us could get in at the same time and Sarah didn't need one. They all agreed to go and watch me get one, but I don't even like the person giving me one to watch. (all that sloughing skin off my heels is embarrassing!) I opted for a Cafe Rio Pork Salad with black beans instead courtesy of Cafe Rio (free meal!) Delicious.

They have a solid business model. Good food - lots of it, fast and cheap. No wonder it's so dang popular.

Our Salads - now onto filling out my next card!

Maureen and Sarah dropped me off at home and Jay and I quickly headed off with our boys to the Fire, Water, Ice festival in Kearns. I chose to do this and I take full responsibility. It actually wasn't that bad. Hanging out with about 10,000 fellow cheapskates isn't usually first on my list of to-do's (Admission was only $2.00/kid and $4.00/adult) but I wanted to celebrate part of my day with my boys. I don't want to be the kind of woman who can only enjoy herself, or celebrate, if I don't have to be a mom. I fear that is my natural tendency.

But it wasn't the case while we were swimming and splashing each other. The boys had a ball and so did I. None of the things I usually detest about water parks and crowds got to me. Not the water being splashed in my face by a random, hyper eleven year old kid, not the lack of respect for my space or belongings (I didn't even count how many people walked over my towel as a shortcut...with me on it), and not the exorbitant amount of exposed flesh now burned into my memory - it's all good!

This was towards the end of the day when I was forced to entertain Henry with my cell phone.

My view from my towel. Wish you were there????
(Click to enlarge if you want to really feel claustrophobic. And there were two other outdoor pools equally filled.)

They had tons of indoor activities too, which was great because it was windy which made my boys cold. In the gym were lots of jumping castles, and games. Henry found a ball which kept him entertained for....20 seconds.

Sammy's having fun. Henry is not.

They have two large indoor pools too. My kids were happiest here where they kept warm.

Henry loves the water and doesn't mind getting dunked, or squirming out of our arms to sink.

Once home, I started to get a little sleepy. I took a short, hot bath and then went out on a date with Jay. Maureen took our kids to to play and eat at McDonald's and then put them to bed for us. Jay and I headed on over to the Outback for dinner and then planned on a movie afterwards (I know! Two in one day! Total indulgence!). I loved the Outback before Jay's diagnosis, and have even chosen it as the birthday restaurant before, but I love it even more now. Jay can eat there without a worry and the food is good! Another gold star from me.

Another nasty self-portrait but Jay raised a stink when I wanted to ask our waitress for a photo. This picture really is unfortunate with my overly swooped bangs and since you can't see my ponytail, it's just unnaturally bowl-y. But Jay sure is cute.

Even cuter when he gets goofy.

We wanted to see the Bourne Ultimatum but as we were driving to the theater, Jay started telling me that he thought I would be overly stressed if we went to the movie and suggested going home so I could work on my talk. I convinced him that my talk was basically written and all I had to do was sit at the computer and type it out (like a blog entry). We compromised by deciding if we could get into a movie by 9:00, we would go. There wasn't one until 9:30 so we went home instead.

I walked into my house, and Sarah had picked up the downstairs and cleaned the kitchen. I just about cried. It was a lovely, lovely thing to do and the icing on my non-existent cake (I opted for dessert at the Outback instead of doing a big birthday cake with candles).

You'd think that would have been a good time to start working on my talk but I watched While You Were Sleeping on TNT instead. I went over to Maureen's to borrow an outfit for Sunday (she has much cuter clothes than me) and finally called off the party after 11:00 pm.

I think the best part of the day was that I enjoyed every minute of it. Kindness, love and abundance followed me wherever I went and it was a great day to be....me:)

I think 32 is going to be a good year. I have very high hopes. Thanks to each of you for the emails, cards, gifts, calls and well-wishes.

Birthday card from Peggy, Darren and boys.

Birthday card from Vaughn and Karen

Birthday Good mail from Amie

Birthday good-mail from Jill. I've seen these on other blogs but there really is something dazzling about opening up a package and seeing your own name and letter on the front of a card. And it's my colors!

From all of my boys. A new, small camera!

Good mail tags from Jill. Good thing I wrote my talk about repentance and change. I've got some improving to do. And some fabulous square, brown tags to do it with!

Jenny and Doug sent a card with gluten-free wishes. Very sweet.

I also got a dinner from Kelly. A Mamma Mia ticket from Sarah and a Cafe Rio gift card from Jen. I feel so pampered.

Thank you! I wouldn't be nearly as glad to be me if I didn't have all of you.

The Talk

I have a big, thick post to write about my birthday. It was one of the best ones ever!! But the talk definitely shut down that event and I was up late, late last night writing it. Why do I procrastinate? You know what was funny? One of the footnotes of a talk I used as a reference had a quote from Spencer W. Kimball about procrastination. "Procrastination is an unwillingness to accept personal responsibility." As I was reading it at 2:30 in the morning, I thought, "Ouch!" So, today was church, a big, long nap and then cake with Jay's sister, Kelly and husband, Jerry. Rather than write about it tonight, I'm going to post about it tomorrow. But I thought...since my talk has consumed me for the last 21 hours (I know! I was so unwilling for my birthday to end that I didn't start writing it until 11:30 at night. Bad, bad, bad!) that I'd share my feelings with the rest of you too. Jay did great on his talk and had a full night of sleep. Someone even came up to him afterwards and wanted his copy. No such requests for mine, so I'll just force my copy on all of you!:) Well, at least I know my mom wants to read it.

Here goes:

I remember the day I was baptized. I had been eight years old for about three weeks (it was one of those once a month schedules and there were several other people being baptized the same day) and I remember feeling that those three weeks of sins (after all, you’re accountable after the age of eight) were about to be washed away. I really do remember wanting to stay clean, perfect, without sin for as long as possible...kind of like when I start a diet, nay...a lifestyle change (because diets are taboo) and decide that I’m going to be perfect, on track, and never put anything into my body again that isn’t going to build muscle mass or reduce my risk of cancer.

Obviously, both wishes are unrealistic. We will never achieve perfection in this life. I don’t remember what or when, but I’m fairly certain that my streak after baptism was short. My lifestyle changes obviously haven’t been permanent either. We sin. We err. We idle. We are human and as King Benjamin explained, “the natural man is an enemy to God.”

President Spencer W. Kimball said: “There is a prevalent, perhaps subconscious, feeling that the Lord designed repentance only for those who commit murder, adultery, theft or other heinous crimes. This is of course, not so. If we are humble and desirous of living the gospel, we will come to think of repentance as applying to everything we do in life, whether it be spiritual or temporal in nature. Repentance is for every soul who has not yet reached perfection.”

For every soul who has not yet reached perfection. I would estimate that everyone in this room qualifies under that definition. And yet, once you get past confusion of the teenage years, when temptation and evil cast a shadow over most events, or past the young adult stage, when life decisions, such as your career, or marriage, or even activity in the church will set you on a path for decades, the constant threat of evil dangerously subsides. I say dangerously, because when evil shouts at you, you know it’s there. You hear it and you’re forced to respond - for good or for bad. The awareness is there.

When the volume of evil turns down from a shout to a whisper, and the only blatantly evil thing I consistently face is shopping at Wal-Mart with three young children, the topic of repentance can easily lower a few notches in the hierarchy of important gospel topics. I am no longer invited to parties on the weekend where I have to wonder if there will be alcohol there. I am past the tough stage of dating and being attracted to a boy while trying to stay morally clean (I am not past the stage of being attracted to a boy. I find my husband very attractive.) I come to church on Sunday, accept callings, pay my tithing, try to do my visiting teaching, and say my prayers before hopping into bed. It’s disturbingly easy to sit at church, believing everything is going well, and hope that the youth listen up when the “R” word, Repentance, gets used. Or the person struggling with activity. Or the family you know went boating last Sunday. But that “R” word is for everyone - especially me if I’m sitting around deciding who needs to hear about it. President Kimball clearly said so. I am in just as much need of the lessons on repentance as the murderer or adulterer.

Elder Nelson spoke on this in the last April conference. He said, “While the Lord insists on our repentance, most people don’t feel such a compelling need. They include themselves among those who try to be good. They have no evil intent. Yet the Lord is clear in His message that all need to repent – not only from sins of commission but from sins of omission as well.” In true scholarly form, Elder Nelson broke down the word repentance from the Greek word that his disciples recorded the Lord’s words in. They used the verb metanoeo. There is much significance in that word. The prefix “meta” means “change.” The suffix relates to four important Greek terms: nouse, meaning “the mind.” Gnosis, meaning “knowledge” pneuma, meaning “spirit” and pnoe, meaning “breath.” Elder Nelson instructs, “Thus, when Jesus said, “repent,” He asked us to CHANGE - to change our mind, knowledge, and spirit - even our breath.

I came across a poem that left a deep impact on me as a late teen. I had it framed and hung it on my wall throughout college. It is called Autobiography in Five Short Chapters by Portia Nelson

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE SHORT CHAPTERS
by Portia Nelson

I

I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I fall in.
I am lost ... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes me forever to find a way out.

II

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place
but, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

III

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit.
my eyes are open
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

IV

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

V

I walk down another street.

I remember gauging myself several times throughout those important street finding years. What street did I take? Am I in a hole? As I read it again today, I think it’s as easy to apply. How many of us get stuck vacillating between Chapters 3 and 4. We get used to our bad habits, even attached to them. Or we give them up, but still hover around, allowing a trip or a stumble back into the hole all too easy. I think the metaphor of a sidewalk or road as our path in life is a great visual. Would you chose to drive or walk down a newly resurfaced road or one gutted by potholes and divets. I just moved from Spokane, Washington where there isn’t much choice; the roads there are notoriously bad. The weird thing is, when you don’t have a choice, or don’t think you do, you get used to being jostled around. That’s just life. But when you get the chance to drive or walk down a different kind of road, say one that’s been repaved and notice how nice it is - how smooth, would you go back? The Lord’s pathway is completely smooth if we choose to take it. It's not free from trials - it's still a long walk - sometimes uphill, but it doesn't contain Satan's large potholes.



There is a well-known story about a well-known road. It is the story of Saul’s conversion on the Road to Damascus. Is there a better or more vivid example about the power of change - for the better - than the life of Saul?


Saul was a Jewish man - a Jewish leader, who believed he was doing the right thing when he persecuted the followers of Christ and those that joined His church. The apostles of Christ had realized that they needed help administering to the saints of the church and set apart seven men to aid them in the temporal affairs and missionary efforts and one of the chosen was a man named Stephen. Stephen was brought before the Sanhedrin on charges of blasphemy and testified and preached the gospel of Christ as well as reminding them of their own history - the miracles and the scandals. While listening, the people became so enraged that they stoned him to death. In Acts 7:58, it says, “And cast him out of the city, and stoned him: and the witnesses laid down their clothes at a young man’s feet, whose name was Saul.” In 8:1 it says, “And Saul was consenting unto his death.”


Considering what Saul’s beliefs and actions were at this time, it seems impossible that he could overcome what he obviously believed in his core. Saul does not strike me as the kind of man who is easily swayed by different opinion. He was a zealot. Yet, the Lord was not only willing to forgive him, but used Saul’s zeal to further progress his church.


Think for a moment the enormous change Saul had to make. As far as he knew, he was not making a transition from the leadership position he held in Jewish society to a leadership position in Christian society, but was giving up all the importance, status, position that he had attained. He submitted to baptism and joined the church, and far from being an independent authority from his personal vision, he was obedient to church authorities and the Savior.


Comparing Sauls’s mighty change to the poem about the five chapters, it might feel discouraging that Saul’s change seemed apparently effortless and instant. But that is also not so. While there isn’t any evidence that Saul, who now is known as Paul, ever wavered in his conversion, he wasn’t easily assimilated into the Christian church. He was well known as a persecutor and was not happily embraced by many Christians, particularly those who maybe blamed him for the death of Stephen. Wilfred Griggs, a professor of religion at BYU, wrote an article about Paul in the September 1975 Ensign and made several interesting points. It took him years to gain the trust of church members and to be fellowshipped. In acts 9:26 - 27, it talks of him returning to Jerusalem, three years after his conversion and struggling with acceptance. “And when Saul was come to Jerusalem, he assayed to join himself to the disciples: but they were all afraid of him, and believed not that he was a disciple. But Barnabas took him, and brought him to the apostles, and declared unto them how he had seen the Lord in the way, and that he had spoken to him, and how he had preached boldly at Damascus in the name of Jesus.”


Another point easily overlooked is the time it took Paul to be prepared for his missionary work that is detailed in the scriptures. According to professor Griggs, there is a nine-to-ten year period from Paul’s conversion until the time of his so-called first missionary journey. It was as necessary for Paul to mature and season in the gospel, grow and develop, as it is for the rest of us.


I wonder if Saul felt discouraged after his conversion. Boyd K. Packer said, “The discouraging idea that a mistake, or even a series of them, makes it everlastingly too late, does not come from the Lord. He has said that if we will repent, not only will He forgive us our transgressions, but He will forget them and remember our sins no more. Repentance is like soap; it can wash sin away, Ground-in dirt may take the strong detergent of discipline to get the stains out, but out they will come.


Paul is an excellent example of the mighty change spoken of by Alma in the Book of Mormon. President Ezra Taft Benson said, “When we have undergone this mighty change, which is brought about only through faith in Jesus Christ and through the workings of the spirit upon us, it is as though we have become a new person....you have forsaken lives of sin...and have become clean. You have no more desire to return to your old ways. You are, in reality, a new person.


While we might not all have to make as dramatic change as Paul did, each of us has room for change and growth. David O. McKay famously taught that the gospel of Jesus Christ can make bad men good and good men better, can alter human nature and change human lives.


If you are struggling with sin, you can change. If you are stagnant and treading water in the gospel, you can become better. We are all sons and daughter of God and our inheritance is all that He has. We have been put on this earth to learn how to become like him. Satan would have us be content with being mediocre or competent, or worse, to stall our progression with feelings of failure.


We will all experience some failures. We will all have times of mediocrity. We all have habits that may hinder us. But we can choose to change, to improve, to become phenomenal. With the help of the Lord, we can discover the streets without the pot-holes, the streets the Lord himself walked down, and become our best selves.

There you have it! I changed my mood music to a song that Jay felt drove my point home. He thought I should have worked the lyrics into my talk or simply broke out into song. I did neither, but thought you might enjoy it:)

Bookgroup Without the Book...or the Group

I was aware last night of an ongoing gathering taking place in a dreamland up north that I am no longer a part of. I felt a pang. Bookgroup each month with this extraordinary group of women was always a highlight and knowing that I was no longer a part of it (although...you never know. I could see me making a surprise guest appearance someday) left me feeling a bit melancholy.

Kelly called me to see if I wanted to eat Sushi with her and her son but I had already started dinner and when Jay walked in the door from work, and I was on the phone, there was popcorn all over the carpet (horrible, horrible idea for a snack) and all three boys were doing their best impersonation of the boy version of Veruca Salt (I want it now!), it wasn't exactly the best time to say, "See ya!" But after dinner, after dishes, after the boys transformed back into sane beings...I asked Jay if he minded if I went to visit Kelly one last time before she left town. He gave me his full blessing and I called and arranged to meet Kelly at Chili's so we could get the desserts that we had to cancel after our sushi-canceled-bad-tex-mex dinner.

Kelly filled the void. We stayed until we were too parched to talk anymore (our waitress stopped refilling our water glasses about an hour earlier). I feel so lucky that I have made this great friendship in the last few months. It was a great night. So comfortable, so funny. I left with a smile on my face. It was perfect.

Thanks Kelly This song is for you!

Over-doing It

First and foremost, let's just get the pictures out of the way. They have nothing to do with anything, other than being three of the most handsome boys ever to live on the earth (in my totally honest non-biased-at-all opinion).

I told him I wanted him to "look smart" but this kid is all about the good looks!

A farmer pirate. It works.

I get smiles if I don't wait for him to look at the camera.

But, this blog is getting a little black and white. I've scrolled down. I'm well aware. In fact, that is point one. I'm over doing the words. Trying to make necessary adjustments. I even toted my camera around with me all day, hoping for some genuine photo ops. I volunteered in Seth's classroom and in between doing a sad little reading assessment (couldn't even sound out "and") whipping out Spanish flashcards for a sweet little girl who has only lived in the states for four months and leading a guided reading for a group of five (all in the hallway) I never managed to have my camera with me. They were all cute, sweet kids too. I'm getting attached to Seth's class despite my reservations about it.

Jay and I have been asked to speak in church on Sunday. Of course, when the bishop asked us two weeks ago, it seemed light years away and an ample amount of time to come up with something well thought out and researched. Yet, here it is...Thursday, and I'm just feeling solid (well, kind of...I'm not really sure) of my topic of choice. We are supposed to base our talks on stories from the Bible. Um...I'm kind of bible ignorant and I don't think my primary class knowledge is going to go over really well. Remember, I'm still in make a good impression mode. So, I've got the talk to think about and write and it's my birthday on Saturday. I don't want to be thinking and writing a talk. I want to be thinking and hoping of my fabulous day that celebrates me! I love birthdays! This year, though, nothing is really sticking in my mind about what I would like to have happen and every woman knows if she doesn't plan her own birthday, she'll be disappointed. Well...women who LIKE birthdays. I really, really don't get not liking your birthday. You're older regardless, will probably get presents regardless, will probably get told Happy Birthday once or twice regardless. So enjoy it! Be happy you're on earth! I am. I would love to over-do my birthday, but that talk!!! I also have to play the organ on Sunday. If I could somehow manage to do the musical number, I could call it the Lucy-show! I may be over-doing it a bit in my ward.

Another thing, there is a scary message on my voice mail. Kelly A. told me I was laying it on a bit thick, and this is as thick as it gets! It's from that counselor in relief society. Here it is:

Hi Lucy, this is Becky, I've heard so many great things about you. I just wanted to call because we have an idea to have a Super Saturday on preparedness...making 72 hour kits. Give me a call. It's not a rush, or anything, but we thought maybe we could turn it into a ward activity. My numbers are.....

What does this mean? I hope....I pray...that this is due to my ward activities calling. It must be. How could I have been outed so soon? There were like 10 other ladies with their hands up last Sunday! It has to be because she wants it to be a ward activity. Except she didn't ask for Jay. And we are co-chairs ("co" Jay. You are not my boss!) Is this reminding anyone else of Becky Bloomwood? I don't really speak Finnish!

Lastly, I just read this article on Slate.com. I like the name of my blog, but I know no one gets it and that it doesn't make any sense. I've thought about changing it to something that really means something...but it's got history now. It's doomed for reason #3...but it's not really an inside joke. I'm willing to share! Read my first post!

Back to my talk...

Horseshoes and Hand grenades

Last week, the relief society president and a counselor came over to meet and visit me. Nice of them, I think. I was amiable and complimentary about their ward and when she asked me, "what do you like to do?", my mouth almost started from memory.

I enjoy singing and playing the piano, reading, traveling, spending time with my friends and family and being outdoors.

Instead, I had this impetuous thought and said it before I really knew better.

I told her that I liked to write.

It felt like such a sexy thing to say. I've certainly never said it before, never even really thought it before, but received that instant gratification that I must have known such a response would invoke.

Her eyebrows raised at my atypical response and interest flooded her face. What sorts of things did I write?

My fancy facade sort of fell apart as I responded so very eloquently, "Oh...nothing really exciting. Just thoughts and stuff about my day."

I don't know why I couldn't say the words, "I blog." Perhaps I was still caught up in feeling sexy and I don't think any word that rhymes with frog, smog, log, bog, dog...is.

So, we left it at that, her wondering at my fancy interpretation of journaling and me feeling a bit sheepish of categorizing myself with an arty and intellectual bunch. I quickly added my usuals and felt a lot more comfortable talking about music (which certainly is what got me roped into my last-minute accompanying gig).

Am I a writer?

If you quilt, are you a quilter? If you take pictures, are you a photographer? If you bake, are you a baker?

I blog. I know I'm a blogger. But I think I'd rather be a writer.

I've noticed more and more that my own response to the question, "Why do you blog?" or "What do you get from blogging?" is that I like the writing. I like the other stuff too. I love adding pictures (although I haven't done enough of it this week - sorry about all of the words again), the great way to keep in touch, the great way to reach out to new friends and the record...journal, if you will, of my days. If I had to pick one thing, though, I'd say I like the writing.

There is such a wide variety of blogs out there now. I don't really know where I fit.

I'm a blog mutt.

There are the mommy blogs, which I sort of have. I certainly include that part of my life almost daily. But I stop short of fully immersing myself into that genre, because one thing this blog has allowed me to do is separate myself from my motherhood. I've remembered who I am - independent of my kids...or my husband. I've remembered that there are stories to be told that don't involve them. That sounds selfish, but for someone who loves being a mom, loves her kids and staying home with them (I wouldn't change it for the world), but who also struggles because it's not a natural gift or joy or even something I feel I'm particularly good at - it reminds me that I still have value. Maybe even the attempt to separate is part of a mommy blog, though. Don't count me out of that one, I guess.

There are the journaling blogs. I certainly fall into this category. Plenty of my posts walk you through my day. But I can't do it every day. Updates are nice, but no one needs to know how many gallons of gas I put into the van yesterday (well, if you must know...it was 11.4). Plus, I don't want everyone knowing what I do everyday. A girl needs some mysteries. Wouldn't you like to know what I did yesterday? Too bad. I like this category. This is my ultimate purpose, really, in keeping a blog. To print it into a book and have the permanent record.

There are the skill blogs. I don't even hug the atmosphere of these kinds of blogs. No recipes, how-to's, creative ideas or showcase of my talent. I do sigh when I read these, though. Wouldn't it be nice? Then I usually click to another blog.

There are the inspirational blogs. The ones that encourage, inspire...make you feel. From weight loss or nature to religious beliefs, I've read a few of these and I just can't do it. I'm too selfish. My daily purpose can't be helping others when it's my own therapy. Besides, I'm hesitant to share sacred things. I think and feel them, but I'm much too irreverent to give them justice by writing them down. They stay where they are safe, in my heart and my head.

There are the fitness blogs (curse you, fit people!), product review blogs (I have to really like something to pimp their paraphernalia for free), pop culture blogs (I never have any insider information on shows - and rarely a strong enough opinion to devote a post to one).

The blog that has me feeling the most left out and untalented are the intellectual/writer's blogs. You know, people who have actually taken classes and have been trained to write. Not people who simply tell their relief society president that they do (and...unintentionally cook with my food storage. Who am I trying to be?????) My friend, Andrea, sent me a link to one last week, and I really enjoyed it. Sharp writing, clever insights and such an interesting way to express something. I loved it and when I read it, thought, "I want to write like that!" but I don't come close. And they say close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

But if you're a mutt, maybe it can count in blogland too. I'd like to think so.

Funnies

Really, nothing happened today, I still have no pictures and not much to say and yet here I am:) Without any pictures, though, I'll keep it short and sweet.

Yesterday, in church, the counselor conducting asked a question. She started by saying that she had gone camping with one of her friends and her friend was just...so....into it. You can tell she's not much of a camper by the way she described the enthusiasm of her friend's love of cool tents, water filtration, dutch ovens and camping gadgets with an incredulous awe. Then she asked if any of us were like that - women who liked to camp. I raised my hand...but then she went on. After the word camp, she followed with words like - cook with food storage, can, implement the tools of provident living. I should have taken my arm down because only the camping part is true but I left it up like the kids in primary who keep their arm raised when it's the spotlight and the clue given is that the spotlight has three sisters and that particular child has two brothers. Then, she told the women in Relief Society to look around and use "these sisters" and their love of provident living if you are interested in learning more about provident living. If anyone calls me, I hope they want to go to Zions!:)

Today, I had to find a Post Office to mail something for Jay. I looked up online where the closest one to me was and set off to find it after I picked Seth up from school. I didn't write down the address but had the main street and thought I would notice it when we drove by. I certainly never saw it and before I knew it, we were several miles off target. I knew there was one over by my sister-in-law in the next township (what do you call the suburbs?) so kept driving further and further away to get there. On our way, we drove by a golf course. On our way back, after passing the golf course again, a lights-and-sirens ambulance and fire truck came barreling down the road. We pulled over and the boys asked me where they were going.

I replied that I didn't know but it must be an emergency.

Sammy responded, "Maybe somebody lost a golf ball."

I'm sure that is an emergency in someone's book.

And here's a final happy thought courtesy of Dwight Schrute:

I don't believe in coddling people. In the wild, there is no health care. In the wild, health care is, "Ow, I hurt my leg. I can't run, a lion eats me and I'm dead!". Well, I'm not dead. I'm the lion. You're dead!

When does The Office start again?

Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho...it's off to work he goes...

My dear man is sick. Really sick. Now normally, I'm unsympathetic to male illness with the best of them. There seems to be very few things as inconvenient and irritating as a sick husband. If you happen to be my husband, you also save your very sickest self for the weekend. Silver lining....he has a good work ethic. VERY rarely misses work. Really...such a plus and hardly a thing to complain about. Can you imagine if I had to kick him out the door every morning?

However, beginning on Tuesday, he had a stomach upset. He was convinced he contaminated his pure belly with gluten, yet I was convinced our house wasn't the source. That evening, he suffered from fever and chills and the pain in his gut. I was shocked and flabbergasted when I rolled over at 6:30 to see him decked out in his nicely pressed blue dress shirt (the nice pressing is his own handy work. I have abdicated the iron.) and sharp black dress pants. Perhaps I should swallow a few of his work ethic pills, because in my book of rules, a fever equals a day off from work. Legitimately so. No...."I have a headache" or "I just don't feel well". A fever is honest-to-goodness proof that the body is fighting infection.

Apparently, his 4:00 am Tylenol dose masked his discomfort and off he went. Of course, he came home feeling totally lousy and was wiped out the rest of the evening.

Wednesday night...same thing. Fever and chills the entire night and yet Thursday morning, it was a khaki button-down and blue dockers.

Thursday night, the fever seemed to go away but here came the sore throat. The fathers/sons camp-out was scheduled for Friday night and Jay mentioned that he should pack that night. I wondered aloud if he should go and he replied that he had promised the boys. He fell asleep early, however, and went to bed without packing. I happen to know a few things and that night, I knew that the camping was highly unlikely to happen. The body can only take so much and heading off to the mountains to set up a tent with men and kids he doesn't know isn't really Jay's cup of tea. I thought perhaps Friday might be the sick day but my man, apparently, must work. Friday morning was no different from the rest. Up and at 'em in a dark blue top and black pants.

Camping didn't happen (the kids never knew the difference) and I snuck out that evening to hang out with Kelly, as I mentioned previously.

Saturday, he continued to fight off whatever nasty bug invaded his body, and I tried to keep the boys out of his hair so that he could rest. Part of me wanted to be annoyed at the loss of extra help and my partner in crime, but the larger part of me honestly felt bad that he still felt so yucky. I was out several nights this last week and felt awful that I had to tell him that I had plans for Saturday night as well. My sister Sarah, had given me her ticket to go see the musical Mamma Mia with her friend's family and since I can't seem to get enough of hanging out with people I hardly know, I committed myself to going.

Jay just sighed and waved good-bye. Even I admit that my taking off in the evenings and leaving him at home is becoming a too-familiar scene. Our boys behaved nobly and apparently acted from memory of the many nights they had to put themselves to bed when I was pregnant with Henry. Jay was impressed and I fear he may have exposed my big secret! Our boys are actually angelic and quite easy. There goes my excuse for not getting anything done.

The musical was awesome. Not musically awesome, because some of the performers weren't very good. I'm always confounded when they aren't great because isn't that a competitive field? Maybe ABBA is really hard to sing but I wasn't super impressed with Sophie. Donna was alright. Sam...good but hilarious to watch. He couldn't sing without dramatic head snaps and chest heaving. Skye was plain awful. It didn't matter. Listening to familiar ABBA all night in a funny play with some great costumes was a great way to spend the evening. Sarah's friend's family was quite good company too.

When I got home, there was a piece of music someone had dropped off for a musical number in Relief Society today. She had called earlier in the afternoon to see if I could be a substitute accompanist but hadn't shown up by the time I left. I wish I could have looked at it but it was almost midnight and I had to respect the shared walls. I woke up this morning and discovered that the accompaniment wasn't very easy. Lots of accidentals and big chord progressions.

Not wanting my musical debut in this ward to be dismal, I came home in between Sacrament Meeting and Relief Society. Jay had finally succumbed to his illness and lay asleep in our bed, wiped out with a fever and headache and cough. I put Henry down for a nap, told Jay that he was there, and went and practiced for a half hour. It worked and I didn't suck. I must mention an interesting tidbit of information. The owner of this townhouse lives in another townhouse in the same building complex so is also in the same ward. During the good news minute, the counselor conducting noticed her smiling and asked her if she had anything to share. She replied, "Not really. I just feel good. My health is good and has been ever since I've lived in my new place the last four months."

She lived where we live. Her health was not good. Hmmmmm.

The weekend is over. I wonder what color of pants Jay will be wearing tomorrow?

A Big Fat No-No

A couple of weeks ago, I did this list of five things where one of the lists was what I would do if I was a millionaire. One response was that I'd buy a new camera - not because I needed one but because I wanted a better one. I'm changing that answer...I think I officially need a new one now. My camera has been going through batteries like Lindsay Lohan goes through rehab. So, I don't have any pictures to add to this post (*gasp*). After reading the responses Jill posted that were filled out by blog party attendees, I hesitate to even dare write a post without accompanying pictures, due to the universal dislike of such offerings. Alas, I have no pictures, but do have words, so words it is....for now.

There's been trouble in River City. The last two weeks, I've met quite a few new people. No...not new, just people I haven't spoken to face to face before. I think for the internet wary, or just people with different tastes, the thought of meeting up for lunch or whatever with someone whose blog you've read or heard of is very odd behavior. I've been getting a lot of ridicule and snarky comments about these meetings which has put me on the defensive. I'm thirty-one years old, for crying out loud, and I think I have a pretty good head on my shoulders, not to mention enough weight that it would be pretty tricky to throw me in a trunk. I realize Dateline has revealed the dangers of internet predators and stalkers and I'm aware of the potential risk. I don't go just all wily-nily. Meetings with Jill have been well documented, by people with good reputations, so I knew she wasn't a fake and that her blog party wasn't really a masquerade of blood-sucking goths. I had Dinner with Dana, who I had actually been in a married BYU ward years before. I had lunch with Denise, who Dana knows and could vouch for her. And Kelly, well...it just wasn't possible for her to be weird. In fact, when I first "met" her, it really was like seeing an old friend.

So the comments like, "going to meet your little blogger friends" or even the raised eyebrows and eye-rolls have me bristling. I admit that a year ago, I might have been on the side of the comment makers. My sister Emily has long been comfortable meeting people from message boards or things like it, and, yes, I thought it was weird. Maybe she felt defensive too. If so, I apologize. Maybe my own former feelings have me feeling defensive when there's not even opposition. I might be imagining the eye-rolling and smirks. But, in my imagination or for real, there's just been so much static that I haven't been able to relax and simply enjoy these meetings.

Regardless, I met up with Kelly and her kids yesterday at the children's museum and then she came over to swim. The children's museum was hard, because it was crazy busy and impossible to talk but the swimming was delightful. Kids were happy, contained and entertained, and we soaked up the sun in lawn chairs. She's awesome and exactly like I already knew her to be. Later, she left and fed her clan and I fed mine and then we met up again and went downtown for dinner without kids. The food wasn't great, but the company was and I spent the next couple of hours laughing at her antics. Then we went back to her parent's house and giggled and enjoyed talking into the late, late hours like girlfriends like to do. Nothing weird at all about it. I wish I had pictures to document the total normalcy of our outings. Again, it is unlucky that my camera fell off the wagon and downed all of its juice.

The thing is, I'm not online dating - trying out these bloggers looking for my new best friend. I actually feel bad for people who do online date...they must hear crap from everyone. But, I think it's a legitimate way to connect with people and I don't really think it's all that more risky than meeting someone in a more traditional way. I've had plenty of bad experiences with psycho friends that I've met in a perfectly respectable sphere. Classes at BYU (scary female stalker), roommates at BYU (depression, food-stealing, musical belting), and in wards. I do have common sense and can use is appropriately. I am not a freak. At least not for this reason.

Five Questions, Five Answers, Starting Now

Amber from Soggy Cheerios tagged me on this one...

1. What is your favorite meal to make for your family?

Hmmm...that means I must cook something. I think my favorite meal, based purely on the positive feedback, is meatloaf. My kids LOVE it. I used to make the one that was on the Lipton Onion Soup Box and chortled while Seth and Sam tried to figure out what the "secret" ingredient was but found a gluten-free recipe last week that worked out pretty well. I can't say it's my favorite thing to eat, but it's easy, filling, and everyone likes it. I'm all about positive feedback/words of affirmation. Then I feel loved.

2. What is your least favorite chore?

Another tricky one. I don't know how to rank these three, because at times each one seem like it will be a required activity in Hades itself, but on a hot day, with three kids in tow - shopping at Wal-Mart probably beats all. The loading of the cart, the crowds and cleanliness, the scolding of kids for pulling the cart in different directions, the reloading onto the black conveyor belt which is too small to fit the massive amounts of groceries I somehow felt I needed (it's only because I don't want to have to come back anytime soon), the re-loading them back into the cart, the unloading into the car, and the re-loading back into my kitchen. I hate it. I have recently discovered a healthy alternative, though. Harmons. Truly - the friendly grocers. Equally tied at the bottom can be making the bunk beds (not easy for a full-size girl), or cleaning out the fridge. It usually involves some gagging.

Why do you blog?

Many reasons come to mind. Journaling. Thinking. Putting form to my thoughts. Getting to show my humor that my kids don't get or appreciate. And, I suppose if I'm being honest, because it's given me some worth, of late. Sort of validates that I have something to offer when I hear that someone...anyone...enjoyed something I wrote.

What is your favorite computer/board game?

Favorite computer game is super text twist. I haven't played it in awhile and I don't even know if it's on this computer, but I am pretty good at it. I actually don't play many games on the computer. We downloaded Settlers of Catan which is always good for some entertainment if I'm desperate. My favorite board game is probably trivial pursuit, although I love any kind of trivia game. Cranium, Family Feud, Catch Phrase, Scattergories. I really like most games. Except Monopoly. I have had some bad experiences with that one.

If you could live anywhere comfortably (job/salary/cost of living not relevant) where would you live and why?

Ooooh, I love questions like this. I'm going to adapt it to my favorite question in the world when I ask my five. I want to live in a smaller town. Not pokey, but smaller so that we can get involved in the community and church and invest and be invested in. Sort of like my preferences to small gatherings over big parties. I want to know who I live with, but still have the necessary variety to be interesting. I want to live in the west - with good weather and seasons. I want to live in the mountains and I want to be close to a lake. I want to be in a place that has a decent economy so that the downtown shops aren't vacant and there is a place where pedestrians like to gather and mingle. Definitely some place that has a decent base of good music - a symphony or community chorale. I'd like restaurateurs to be interested in establishing a unique, affordable restaurant there too. Nothing too fancy and pretty, but something more than Applebees. I want people to want to come visit me, because the surrounding area offers a lot to do and see. And I want my kids to have the opportunities for friendship and exploration.


Answer the same five questions in the comments or do them on your own blog!

Thanks Amber! Now I'm supposed to think of five questions for five people...

1. If you could change one part of your body, what would it be?

2. How much money do you think you need to make to be "really comfortable?" (Think annual salary).

3. What is your greatest God-given talent?

4. Winter Olympics or Summer Olympics?

5. My twist on the #5 question above - If you could have any career, and you were GUARANTEED success (no tests to get in, no auditions, no worrying about daycare, or money or time) what would you do?

I tag:

1. Barb

2. Tara

3. Carolyn

4. Lei

5. Chloe

A Good Day

Yesterday had all of the ingredients for goodness. Some free time, a few phone calls, an outing, good honest hard work, water frolicking and some spirituality. Here's the breakdown:

I was pretty lazy in the morning. I added a bunch of blogs to my sidebar, mostly people I met this weekend and I'm loving having some new connections. I think my favorite thing about all of those girls is that they blog! Updates and all:) It's always fun to have something to read from some you you know (even if it's only kind of).

I got to talk on the phone to Kelly A. We get to meet for the first time this week, even though it feels much more like it will be reconnecting with an old same. She called to see if I wanted some nice hand-me-downs of Jack's. Heck ya! I'm so used to doing a clothes swap with Jen that even her asking felt all sisterly...just like I knew she would be. Maybe you think it's odd, but she's got good taste and, I don't have to worry about getting them back to her. Plus, according to Jack Johnson, I need to Reduce, Reuse and Recycle (listen to the mood music on the top of my sidebar). I'm just doing my part! Kelly is so awesome. Last week, before she left on her trip, she sent me a card following my woe-is-me post and some really fun work-out DVDs. I'm sure she's only giving them to me because she's memorized all of the moves herself so I hope she brings her jazz shoes:)

I want to be like this...

I think this may have been made just for me!

Later in the afternoon, I tackled the beast - the garage. Jay actually did 90% of it on Saturday, but I finished up clearing out the half of our garage that was "the-pile-we-didn't-know-what-to-do-with" so that he could park his new/used car in. It's not new - but it's pretty nice and as part of the sale, the dealer had it detailed yesterday. That was my motivation and I finished just in time.

Before that, I decided to drive downtown with Sam and Henry and joined the Discovery at Gateway. What a great place for kids! I had a moment when my former self, the mom that delighted taking her kids out and about, took over and my eyes actually teared up watching Sam busily transport balls back and forth from this tubular structure. He was so intent on seeing where they went. Henry was marching in place at the top of the platform, so happy to have the freedom to go wherever he wanted to go...for once. I smiled to myself while I watched their happy play. Then life returned to normal as Henry started throwing things everywhere and running away and I lost Sam a few times. But at least I had the moment. I will take it as a sign of things to come:)

We all went swimming afterwards. The pool here is our back yard. It's where we have to go when the inside needs a break. I'm so glad we are living here and have this great pool where the boys can splash and make the messes they seem genetically engineered to make without any retribution.

Jay came home and made hotdogs for everyone and Sarah watched our kids and put them to bed while Jay and I went to the temple. It's been awhile since either of us have done a session in a large temple, and I had kind of forgotten how big they really are. Like you actually need those ladies pointing and directing you to a locker. And the escalators! Nothing says business like escalators! It was a wonderful evening and a lovely date with Jay. We even took his shining car with it's speedy transmission, rolled down the windows and opened the sunroof and got some sonic cream slushies afterwards.

So Beautiful

See? A good day.