Staying Off The Highway

Many years ago, we spent a Christmas vacation with our little year-and-a-half-old Seth with Jay's parents. On Christmas evening, we drove over to Jay's brother and sister-in-law's home to have dinner and see all the new gadgets and gizmos my niece and nephew had accumulated.

I'm no longer sure exactly what happened, but after dinner and after protecting the older kids' more expensive toys from my curious but very-likely-to-break-your-toy toddler Seth, I passed the point of no return and completely lost my cool. I wanted to leave...immediately...but Jay was having nothing to do with my temper tantrum. The next thing I remember, I was putting on my and Seth's coats, and announcing I was leaving and walking back to his parent's home.

I think there were some protests made and a few offering of rides (not from Jay who, no doubt, was pretending not to know me). I'm sure there was some major eyebrow raising and silent, "What is her problem?" glances around the room. But I rebuffed all reason and started on my huffy hike home.

I got a little way up the highway before Jay's mother pulled her SUV in front of me and opened the passenger door. Oh...did I not mention that my walk home involved walking along a highway?? At night? In the winter? With a baby on my hip??????? Seriously, as I recall my own lunacy, I'm sure I must have my facts wrong and this happened in the middle of the day during the summertime and I had a stroller for Seth. That puts my actions in a slightly less pathetic light....but unfortunately, no.

My mother-in-law said nothing about my behavior as she drove Seth and me the rest of the way home. As I was getting out, she told me she understood what it felt like to just be done for the day. With a tear in my eye, I told her, "Thank You" and watched her turn her vehicle around and head back to the party.

This story shames me. If I had crazy in-laws and they were doing obnoxious, insufferable things....my theatrics might have been justified. But they are the kindest, most patient, most loving people in the world. Their home was and is welcoming and completely absent of any kind of offense. This story exists only because its main character...me...exists. I have these moments. Moments when I become...well...a brat.

I've been a brat all week. There have been several instances of me sitting down to compose a post airing my grievances. Man...I almost did it again! Just now! I just had to delete an entire paragraph because I started paraphrasing my woe-be-gones (which is a shame, because some of them were pretty funny....but totally unnecessary and more importantly, eventually regrettable). Zip it, lady!

In an effort to prevent any future interventional highway-picking-up....I'm going to do just that.

Competitive Conferencing

Before I begin, let me first declare my love and admiration of women. Really, as a gender, we are a marvel. I love you all.

However, I may rethink congregating with over twenty thousand of you in an attempt to uplift and improve my current state of affairs. Turns out, love really is a battlefield.

I've no doubt the vast majority of attendees saw the throngs of women descending upon BYU campus and felt slightly energized. It's quite something to behold thousands upon thousands of women choosing to spend several days listening to lectures and offering service. This was no spa. This was no shopping mall (although the BYU Bookstore was on hand for emergencies). There was no free offerings of chocolate, either.

While I'm able to appreciate that scene, I still couldn't seem to avoid having my usual physical reaction when I come upon any mass of people. My stomach nervously drops, my shoulders tense and my fuse becomes awfully short.

Thankfully, I had a few of my best friends with me to keep me happy. KariAnn, Andrea and Carolyn came to Women's Conference from Spokane and my sister, Sarah, and sister-in-law, Kelly helped me with my kids (Jay has been out of town all week) so that I could enjoy spending all of Thursday with them.

The day was good. I should probably simply leave it at that. In fact, if you want the cliff notes version, simply scroll down to the last paragraph.

Buuuuuut, if you want the full unabridged version....read on.

First of all, I procrastinated registering for the conference and when I finally went online to do so, that option was no longer available. So, while everyone else was inside getting better seats, I was outside in the frigid 30 degree weather standing in line for an official name tag so that the pleasant ladies in blue vests would let me in.

Once I got my name tag, I entered the Marriott Center only to realize that I had no idea where my friends were seated. I looked in my purse but discovered I had left my cell phone in the car so I sat and listened to Julie Beck and Sherri Dew alone in the nosebleeds behind the podium. I knew my friends were headed to the HFAC afterwards, so there was no sense of panic, but I did spend the entire session wishing and hoping I could find them.

Suddenly, I spotted them sitting all the way across the Marriott Center during the closing song! (although, right now, for the very first time, I'm wondering why I didn't simply think to ask to borrow someone else's phone. Huh. That would have worked too. Not to mention, I wouldn't have had to spend almost an hour playing Where's Waldo).

I snuck out before the closing prayer and walked over to the doors they'd be exiting from to wait. Hallelujahs all around when we hooked back up and then briskly walked to our next class. They offer fifteen different classes each session, so there really is plenty of room for everyone, but some classes end up being more popular than others. That means, when you're walking towards a certain building and everyone around you is walking towards that same building, and all those people start moving towards the same line, there is a sense of urgency to get there quicker than the person next to you.

Knowing my way around the HFAC rather well, due to my freshman year music classes and appreciation for concerts, I knew exactly where we needed to go for the class. Hoping my friends would follow (because there was some confusion), I dodged a long line upstairs and made my way down the stairs to the main entrance, where no line existed at all. KariAnn followed me and relayed our successful game play to Andrea and Carolyn. High fives were in order when we found ourselves delightfully close to the speakers, and fortuitously positioned near the exit for the next go round.

Game play aside, what was the class about, you ask? Ironically enough, it was titled, "Seeking the praise of God, more than the praise of man." A-hem. Cough, cough. O.K. I know. I'm working on it. I did go to the class, after all. Good stuff.

Next came the Cougareat. There were no winners there.

The next class was all the way up ninth east at a Stake Center. The class was called The Family That Plays Together Stays Together. You wouldn't think that class would have a lot in common with a class about seeking the praise of God more than the praise of man, but they were surprisingly similar. Lots of emphasis placed on how we spend our time. Insert more coughing here. I could certainly improve this area of my life. First plan of attack, limit my boys Wii playing time. I always imagined I would, but it turns out it's a lot easier not too. I anticipate some painful days while all of us make this necessary adjustment.

Because we got there so late due to the debacle in the Cougareat, we sat in the back and worked on a service project as we listened to the speakers. As much as I love to think and work out my mind with reading and discussions, I admit I also love being part of an assembly line. We helped make newborn caps, and our part of the assembly was folding the tube like material in half, reaching inside to pull it back on itself, and aligning the edges. They weren't cute when they left our table....kind of looking like leg warmers... but I did see the finished product, and I don't think it's possible to have an ugly newborn cap. They were cute and we all left with a smile.

This might be a good time to mention my feet. I wore boots. I wasn't putting fashion over function, because I never do, but early on in the day, I started forming blisters on the bottom of my feet and each walk between the buildings became more and more brutal. I decided to use the time between the second and third session to walk to my van in the law school parking lot and retrieve my cell phone and meet the girls in the Wilk for our third session.

I did a horrible job of remember to take pictures this week. I only got one of women's conference at the very end. I took this the day after. You can't really see about four round blisters right at the top of the ball of my foot beneath my toes. Sorry for the details, but I have had to pop these ugly blisters about five times now.

I got there first, coming up the stairs across the street from the law school building and figured I'd save some seats as the class we wanted to go to, Raising Sons and Grandsons, was being held in the ballroom at the top of the stairs.

Apparently most women have a son or a grandson. Also apparent: almost all of them wanted to go to a class about raising them. The line wasn't just long, it was obscenely long. I walked past the varsity theater, past the dining area, turned the corner towards the bookstore, turned the corner back towards the cougar eat and made it almost back to the ballroom before I saw some saintly woman holding a large sign with the words, "Line Ends Here". As I knew I had walked past several thousand women on my way to the end of the line, I figured the chances of getting into the class were extremely poor.

Right then, Andrea, KariAnn and Carolyn found me and Andrea was excited from running into bloggers Jill, Michelle and Kristi. I remembered what it was like to meet someone whose blog you've read, but don't know personally, for the first time and just smiled. It feels like a celebrity sighting.

Of course, we didn't make the class. We didn't even come close to making the class so then we needed to decide how to spend the next hour and a half. My feet were in no shape to walk to the Smith Fieldhouse, where my friends wanted to attend a class taught by popular speaker Mary Ellen Edmonds, and saw that there was a class called Pornography: Satan's Snare right there in the Varsity Theater. I'm so glad I went! I might not have gotten into the class about raising sons, but I felt like I attended one of the most important classes of the day by the time I exited the building. With three boys to raise, I believe it's a matter of when, not if, they are exposed to this snare. I feel like I have some real tools now to go about my job as protector and, heaven forbid, recovery helper.

The final meeting of the day was back in the Marriott Center. In spite of the mind numbing foot pain, I got to the Marriott Center rather early. Our class must have been one of the first ones out because I was able to find seats pretty close to the floor. I shimmied my way into the middle of row eight, threw my purse across two seats, threw myself across two more and dug my trench for the upcoming defensive battle.

It got quite ugly because two women on either side of me were also saving several seats each, so our row appeared to be empty and available. Group after group after group of women came down and started their way down the row only to be told by one of us that none of the seats were actually available. I felt annoying, and mean, but sometimes, when there are over twenty thousand people trying to do the same thing as you, and you happen to have dear friends in from out of town, and you happen to have feet that hurt so bad you're not going to stand outside and wait.....I think it's o.k. to save seats! Stop glaring at me! Stop acting like I just ruined your entire mortal existence! I'm not a bad person!

My friends came just in time and we enjoyed some fantastic prelude singing. I don't know if anyone else noticed this woman, but I sang along to her energetic down beats...feeling empathetic. No doubt she was asked to lead the crowd in prelude singing, to help us settle down and get in the right mood for the talks on temples given by the Batemans, but no one seemed to notice her except me and the organ player. And I only noticed her, because I know that job. Sometimes, you feel like you could be up there doing interpretive dance and still and no one would pay attention.

I see you, lady!

In the end, the crowds weren't, and never will be, my thing. But the classes were. The loud people in line at the cougareat that seemed to be performing their conversation for the rest of us trapped souls definitely weren't my thing, but my sweet friends who are so easy and enjoyable to spend time with certainly are.

Like I said, it was a good day. I had an entire kid-free day to spend catching up with old friends, learn some new things and be reminded about things I tend to forget, laugh as I realized I had been walking around wearing sunglasses with one of the lenses popped out and participate in something that benefits so many families across the world. It was, indeed, a good day. Amen.

Any Other Flaw Would Do

Last week, I decided to buckle down and get serious about our housing situation in D-town. We are, after all, moving there permanently in two months. It might be nice to know where and how this is going to be.

The realtor I chose gave me the names of a few lenders to call about pre-qualification. Based on her recommendations, I called each one to explain our situation and to get an idea about what kind of home prices I should be considering.

During one of the phone calls, I introduced myself and proceeded to give the gentleman on the other end our pertinent information. Afterwards, he said, "So, are you guys excited to be coming back here?"

A bit startled by his inside information, I could only respond, "Oh, do you know Jay?"

"Not personally," the mortgage broker/psychic replied. "He graduated a year ahead of me. But I know who he is. Great cross-country runner."

We talked some more, I realized in this current mortgage crisis, renting is looking more and more likely and hung up the phone...haunted by his mentioning Jay's former running glory.

My reality: We are moving to Jay's hometown.

I know I knew this. I know I've said time and time again how great this is for him, for us and for our children. D-town is a wonderful, if not expensive and environmentally dogmatic, little town. I have no problem imagining myself walking down Main Street with my Birkenstocks and then driving home in my non-Prius to make a meaty dinner. Yup...this town and me go together like peas and carrots....with a side of chicken.



So, if I'm excited...nay thrilled, with the idea of living in D-town, why does my stomach drop when I think of moving there?

I'll give you a hint. It has to do with the mortgage broker/psychic. And people like him.

Jay never went to his high school reunion. He's lost contact with all of his old friends. But, old friends aren't really what I'm concerned about. I'm more concerned about the people who knew and knew of Jay. The ones that remember his state championships and gaze admirably at his shiny new job.

This is Jay's homecoming. This is his moment.

And I feel like an embarrassment.

I have been meaning to get this weight off for years. Actually...a decade now. That's ten years, people. Ten years doesn't exactly fit in the sentence, "I just ran out of time. I only had ten years!" Now, we're down to mere months, and I can't become perfectly skinny, perfectly beautiful....perfectly wifey in that amount of time. He's going to have to make his big entrance with my current self at his side.

Before you feel too bad for me, or tremendously uncomfortable about my confession (are you squirming?) know that I possess a lot of confidence. I do not think my weight equates into my being a worthless person. No - I quite like myself. I think I have a lot to offer a town, a neighborhood or a group of friends.

But I am fully aware that obesity carries a stigma. It's such a visible flaw. Everywhere I go, anyone who looks at me already knows my bad habit. I overeat. Boo. Hiss.

It's times like this that I wish I could switch flaws. I'm not expecting to be miraculous healed from all weaknesses. What I would like is to turn them in (momentarily, mind you. None of the following seem like a walk in the park either) for a more concealed flaw. Like, perhaps, a gambling habit. Or extreme vanity. I might even select being a liar and a cheat if it would guarantee I'd be a slim size ten (because that is slim, in my book. I don't know why America's Next Top Model calls that woman plus size. Grrr!).

In the end, I know none of these versions of me would actually be better, but I'd sure look better. I'd have lots and lots of initial admiration...with years of enjoyment before it turned into scorn and contempt.

Alas, there is no bazaar of flaws to shop in. D-town is going to get me and my actual flaws soon. So, while I may be chubby (but working on it!), at least I won't be bringing loan sharks carrying baseball bats behind me.

That's not only wifey...that's good for the whole community. They can thank me later.

Race Day

We have an annual tradition of going to Colorado Memorial Day weekend and running in the Bolder Boulder. Well, Jay and his siblings run. I somehow manage to trot/walk my way to the finish line in less than two hours. It's not pretty...but I do it.

This is a serious race for Jay. Not only is he competitive by nature and a runner by choice, but this race pits brother against brother against brother against brother against sister. That translates into bragging rights for over a year -- a very sought after prize among this particular Johnson clan.

The Bolder Boulder assigns starting waves to each participant. The faster runners start earlier in waves beginning with the letters A and AA with the waves moving through the letters until W for the walkers. To qualify for these A and B waves, you have to prove that you really aren't some turtle with delusions of grandeur or a saboteur aiming to interfere the kinds of runners who wear singlets and short shorts (and actually look o.k. in them) by running in a qualifying 5 or 10K before the race and turning in that time with your registration.

Usually, Jay simply uses his time from the previous year to determine his wave placement, but neither of us went to Colorado last year as the race was too close to Jay's oral boards and our subsequent move to Utah. Not wanting to be starting among the riff-raff (i.e. slower runners), he found a 5K in Draper to run in this last weekend.

The race offered a half-mile kids race as well, so Jay signed both Seth and Sam to run. I almost had him sign me up too (for the 5K...not for the kids race, although its distance is much more my style). Blame it on peer pressure or herd mentality, but I didn't want to be the lump on the log that only watches the action. Thoughts of Henry (always) and the very real likelihood that I wouldn't complete the 5K before the kids race started, I decided to support the racers, rather than be a racer. Once we got to the starting line, I knew I had made a smart choice.

Some pre-race stretching.

Don't forget the adductors.

The view from the start. Just a bit of an uphill climb.

And they're off!

Go Jay! (That's the new Draper temple's spire in the background, in case you didn't know. Of course, it's surrounded by Utah's favorite landscaping....ginormous homes).

Only a half mile left to go. And yes, the start line was no where near the finish line so I have no idea what those people who didn't have a support van to chauffeur them to the start line did. I guess walk the two miles back to the start.

Jay finished fourth (out of about 25 runners -- this wasn't a very big race), but second in his age group, with a time just under 22 minutes. That's not as fast as he used to be and he jokes about how "slow" he is but for someone who has only gone running about five times this year, I think it's pretty darn quick. And it puts him in AB - which isn't at all shabby.

Now for the real show. Seth and Sam size up their competition. Doesn't Sammy look like he should be robbing banks at night?

Them and four of the other racers. There were only seven total.

They came in 5th and sixth. Medals for everyone:)

Henry enjoys the post race food.

Later that afternoon, we took the kids to the downtown Pier 49 where they make gluten-free pizzas. I like to call it post-race carbo loading. Slightly out of order, but just as yummy!

It's hard to compete with Tom and Jerry on the T.V. above our head.

We finished up the afternoon by taking them to see the Joseph Smith movie at Legacy Theater. Henry fell asleep, which made the 70 minute feature even better, and Seth and Sam both had tons of questions and thoughts afterwards. I wanted to get a picture of them with the temple in the background, but was competing with at least 10 brides. I chose a place that didn't have a lot of wait time. I don't know why a newlywed couple wouldn't want a big sign post in their wedding shots.

I love days like this when we spend the entire day doing things as a family. It's not always easy, but it's always worth it.

May 22nd

25 days until I start trying on some new moves around the house. Don't YOU wish you were a fly on the wall.

Can't wait!!!!!!!!

Strabismus and Ambloypia - Take Two

Six weeks ago, Jay was upstairs getting Henry ready for bed when he called out for me to come see something. Lying there, looking up at Jay, Henry's left eye kept rolling in and crossing - unable to focus on Jay from that distance.

Sadly, I had noticed this little crossing of his eye a few times previously, but had dismissed it as something I was hypersensitive about. I told myself that, sometimes, kids eyes do cross and I shouldn't freak out about it. After all, the crossing was minor and happened only rarely.

Looking at him on that changing table, however, I knew that I could no longer deny that Henry's vision wasn't o.k. I made the call to the pediatric ophthalmologist the next day.

At first, those who saw him often couldn't tell. But gradually, they noticed his left eye turning in as well and all that was left to do was to wait and see what the diagnosis and treatment would be. Would Henry need patching, like Sam did? How in the world would that kid keep a pair of glasses on?

Last Monday, Henry had his appointment and the doctor diagnosed him with Stabismus and Ambloypia very quickly. I'm sure having an older brother in glasses made it that much easier for him and I admit that this time, I don't feel as distraught as I did with Sam's diagnosis. It was so hard for me with Sammy. I mourned his cute little three year old face, his lens-free brown eyes and worried about teasing and taunting from his peers.

I suppose everything is easier the second time around. I feel very matter-of-fact about this. Henry will wear glasses. He'll see better. He'll be fine.

We picked up his glasses this morning and it's already been quite the challenge keeping them on his face. He can't understand why I don't think it's a game and cries when I tell him to "leave them alone." I think I'll just have to stick close to him today and maybe after today, or soon thereafter, he'll adjust and forget about them. I hope so.

They do make his eyes appear huge. He looks strange to me right now, but I know it's only a matter of time when he'll appear strange without them. Just like Sammy.

Hero Worship

Lately, I've noticed Henry sort of idolizes Seth. He and Sammy are around each other a lot more, and they tend to antagonize each other more than either of them does with Seth. Hopefully that will change with Sammy in school next year.

While I was getting dinner ready yesterday, I noticed Henry following Seth around. Seth was completely clueless about his little shadow and kept moving from place to place to read. Every time he moved, Henry picked up his book and moved too.

First the stairs

then a stop in the kitchen. I have no idea what Seth is doing and why he came to read here.

This makes much more sense. But they won't be here for long.

A top the toy box.

Finally, I alerted Seth to what was going on and then it became a game. I think these two brothers are pretty adorable together.

Smile!

I just got an email telling me I won the Good Read's April Good Review's contest in the category of Fiction for my review of A Thousand Splendid Suns. I didn't even know there was a contest! In fact, I just wrote that review for my blog and then cut and pasted it into GoodReads. The whole first two paragraphs about how I bought the book in Taiwan and didn't feel like reading it and yada, yada, yada seem so....superfluous. I feel a little like I just got caught on Candid Camera and, thankfully, didn't do anything really embarrassing. I mean, it's totally flattering. I am flattered. But...now...I mean...now...I know the camera may be on and I feel a bit like I should look the part of a book reviewer. You know...not write book reviews in my pajamas. I at least need a pencil behind my ear.

I thought this was funny considering what my last post was about. Add "may unknowingly win an award on the world wide web" to my commercial about writing book reviews.

They gave me $20 at Amazon.com.

Dream big, people, dream big.

How And Why

People often ask me, "How do you read so many books?"

I understand that anyone who asks this already knows the answer: I spend a lot of time reading. Ta-da!

I'm left wondering what they really want to know. Are they asking if I ignore my children (sometimes) or if I have a really messy house (not extremely...but I admit that the Queen of Clean does not feel her crown is threatened by me)? Are they asking me if I have some sort of superpower (of course) or if I only skim the books I review (very rarely...because what's the point of reading if you don't care about the details)?

I also understand why they are asking. I ask the same question all the time to other people. Only I ask about different things. How do you stay so organized? How do you manage to be so thin? How do you always have the perfect piece of jewelry for every outfit?

I think we all want to hear that this person has more hours in the day, more money, more support, more....anything...than we personally do because then we could justify why we can't or don't do it too.

But, I believe the answer to all of these questions is....we do it because it's something that's important to us.

Reading, and being a reader, is important to me.

There are times I wish I had others' priorities. I wish I cared more about my body. I wish I couldn't sit still until my bed was made and my sink sparkling. I wish every time I had a reason to dress up, I had the perfect pair of shoes to match a fabulous necklace.

I wish....but, instead...I read. It's my hobby. And I've come to terms that it's an o.k. hobby, flabby stomach and all purpose black sandals notwithstanding.

Looking back, I've always been a reader and throughout my adolescence, enjoyed spending many of my free Saturdays and Sundays reading all day. I have memories of wearing my super stylish green sweatpants and coming upstairs for the first time late in the day after reading in my bedroom for five or six straight hours.

Additionally, I am fortunate to be blessed with a gift...a wonderful gift. A gift that limits its benefits to me only. I enjoy the gift of being able to become completely absorbed by a good book. I don't hear someone talking to (or shouting at) me. I don't hear the phone ring. I don't get sleepy or bored or feel the need to stretch and walk around for a bit. This gift limits itself to a good novel, mind you. My gifts seem to evaporate when I attempt non-fiction or poetry. I'm as handicapped as the rest of the world when it comes to those.

When I started blogging and first posted my book reviews, I immediately discovered the bonus of writing about what I read.

To begin with, writing book reviews turned a hobby into a goal. During my first year of blogging, I set a goal to read fifty books in a year. Nine and a half months later, I finished my fiftieth book and immediately began the next year's goal of reading seventy-five books.

Having a set number mattered to me. That magical number of fifty or seventy-five always kept me reading but more importantly, it kept me reading better books. As I knew I'd be writing about each book, I've been much better at choosing a wider variety of literature, including much more non-fiction than I would normally read, and staying away from an abundance of chick lit, beach reads, mysteries and tawdry romances. I still read them...occasionally...but having a person or two looking over my shoulder at what I'm reading makes for much more deliberate decision making.

Another bonus is that I can remember what I've read for much longer if I've written down what I thought about it. I've enjoyed developing the talent of writing a book review. Some of my reviews are much better than others, but like any talent, I feel I've gotten better the more I've practiced. With some books, now, I can see parts of my review while I'm reading. In other words, sometimes, I know what I'll get out of it even as I'm getting it.

Amazingly, I can vividly remember books I've read almost two years ago, mostly because the two or three paragraphs I took the time to jot down afterwards jogs my memories much more than reading what somebody else wrote about it on amazon.com. Really, this ability to talk about a book or character from a book I've read in the past, has made me appear much more educated and in the know than I really am. It's a super party trick.

Lastly, like anyone, I feel good when I accomplish a goal. I have until the 10th of May to get to book 75 and as of today, I have read 81. It took dedication to read 81 books in a little more than eleven months. Many times, I chose to read over watching T.V. or renting a movie. Although, I admit it also helps that our social life has been dramatically reduced by the fact that we have no couple friends besides family and many of our weekends begin with the question, "Do you want to watch a movie or would you rather read?" Jay and I sure know how to par-tay.

So, if you want to know how I read as much as I do...this is how.

I read almost every night.
I read a lot on Sundays.
I stay up late to finish a book.
Sometimes, I'll read during the day.
I shop only when necessity dictates that I have to.
I don't craft.
I don't mind if I don't go anywhere most days.
I like to travel and can get much reading done on a plane.
I'm not much of a phone talker.
I don't believe my primary role as a mother is to entertain my children. Teach, guide, cuddle with, listen to and nurture...yes. Entertain...no.
I (usually) pick books that interest me so that I actually want to read them.
I can read fast.


There you go. That's how and why I read as much as I do. If, per chance, you've asked me this question in the past, please don't feel like I wish you hadn't. Honestly, it's been good for me to discover the roots of my motivation. If I sound defensive, I'm not. Well...maybe I am a little. But, I try not to be because I do understand that it's easiest to spend our time doing the things we're good at. The trick, I think, is to spend our time doing things we should be good at.

Thankfully, that's not my area of expertise.

Tell me...what's your thing? What do you do that gets you asked, "How?"

My Fate

Sometimes, I wonder what sorts of jobs will still be around after the resurrection. Radiology probably won't be around. Although, if I picture a perfect heaven, there will be dancing and I've been known to pull a muscle now and then with my moves....so...perhaps it will. Attorney's shouldn't be needed. Police officers, firemen, army generals, and referees will most likely have to find other things to do as well.

But, I have a sneaky suspicious one job I loathe will still be around. And, because I loathe it...with most of the fibers of my being...I am destined to have this job in the hereafter to help me become perfect. To help me plan better....and invite better....and decorate better....and delegate better....and enjoy better. All things that, right now, I thoroughly and completely stink at.

What job, you ask?

Ward Activities Chairperson.

Yes, folks, the great pizza/game night activity came and went. The party began at 6:30 and we had our first arrival at 6:45. By 7:00, there were thirty of us. By 8:00, we were down to 15. I played Go Fish, Pit and Yahtzee. I tried to look away as some folks I didn't know too well broke out Twister and I saw more of their flesh than I needed to.

Ten 5 buck pizzas from Little Ceasars
20 2 liters of cheap caffeine type soda
4 bags of popcorn popped

Seating for 50, including paper covered tables with crayons for children to draw on and bowls full of candy for everyone to munch on (the Mike and Ike's were, by far, the biggest hit. Just...in case...you may be attempting something similar).

Games, provided by us (I was surprised by how many games we actually have. I never would have thought it).

Games we couldn't put out because they were in such bad shape or missing too many pieces. (Kids)

6:30 and time to party

Nothing like four people for a party. Three of us were the committee and the man in green is our loving bishop (the other eight members of the committee had all forgotten and made other plans. Which, isn't their fault as most of them didn't know about this activity until this week. I'm so bad!)

Could there be a better way to spend a Saturday night?

Only if you actually like cozy atmospheres, people you know and feel comfortable around, and providing food for a known amount of people.

But...who likes that kind of stuff?

Anyone? Anyone?

Oh....you?

I'll see you on the eternal committee.

Reason #4,821 Why I Love Blogging

The last two evenings have been spent in the company of bloggers. Wednesday evening, I drove to Utah County for Blogger Bookclub. In fact, the location was the very location of my first attendance. Way back in September, I believe. What a difference six (or seven) months makes.

First of all, for probably the first time, I knew everyone in the groups' names right away. I didn't have to mentally commit to memory for the evening that Amy was the one in Blue and Anne was the one in the sweatshirt to remember who was who. It was so refreshing.

Secondly, it was just a fun night. No more, "Hi, I'm Lucy" conversations or sticking to subject matter usually reserved for first dates. Discussing the book, and other topics, left me feeling content and a part of something. It's a bit of an eclectic group, to be sure, but I enjoy it all the same.

We discussed Franny and Zooey, a book by J.D. Salinger that Marjorie picked out that there is little doubt I would have ever picked out on my own to read. And yet, it's a delightful little book that provided an ample amount of topics for a lively discussion. We debated the curse, or blessing, of intellectualism. Wisdom vs. knowledge. Logic vs. faith. Ego vs. pride. Buddism, Christianity, the hierarchy of needs and stream of consciousness. Yes...this was a legitimate bookclub. I'll have no more barbs sent my way about how women's bookclubs are merely a night of gossip and treats. (those are simply icing on the cake).

Yesterday, Jay was home most of the day, which made me forget to go to Musicmakers, a class another friend I really met through blogging, puts on each week. As I looked at the clock at 1:30, I realized I had missed it and felt sad that I wouldn't have my weekly visit with Melanie and Becky. I have come to really enjoy my friendship with them. They are both smart and honest and a delight to be around.

I met Jill and Stefanie downtown for dinner last night. I've met Jill several times this year, which has always been a treat (she's funny, but subtle about it...a quality I find attractive) but I really didn't know Stefanie very well. The plan was to meet her at her hotel, the downtown Marriott, but apparently there are two downtown Marriotts. Only one is called the city center Marriott. Jill and I were at the downtown one and poor Stefanie was waiting at the city center. Jill took the reins and graciously drove us all around since I had parked a ways away and city blocks in Salt Lake City aren't anything you want to toy around with. It's best if you know exactly where you're going!

Self portrait by Jill. It is a well known fact that the least flattering position to be in is the one holding the camera. For obvious reasons, I like the picture Jill took better so included it here. But...to be fair...

here's the one I took. Point made.

We drove over to Red Rock Brewing Company for dinner and just had great time talking and laughing. It is so easy to meet new people when you already have a common interest and common people you both know. Of course, it helps when personalities mesh as well, which they thankfully did. As Stephanie was in SLC for business, she had enough allowance to pay for all our meals. That was an unexpected and generous bonus. Thank you corporate uniform selling company!

After dinner, we drove to Temple Square and watched the Mormon Tabernacle Choir rehearse. My sister, Maureen, who is in the choir, has been telling me to come all year and I don't know why I haven't. The sound is incredible. We were in the balcony section, facing the choir, and it sounded like there were speakers directly above me.

Again, I stole this picture from jill's blog. I have a very similar one albeit more blurry. And why should I make you suffer like that?

We left a little bit early (Jill got hot and from reading her blog, I knew that couldn't bode well), and made our way to the correct hotel to get some hot chocolate. Starbucks was closed, so we opted for dessert instead. Mine was fancy, a key lime concoction which definitely bordered the frou frou side of things, but it was delicious. After the waiter came and picked up our black, still paymentless check...twice (each time he meekly returned it to the table until we finally and equally meekly paid him), we called it a night. I am so glad that Stefanie came to visit and that I was able to meet her.

I took a gamble and tried eating the shard looking accessory. Indeed, it was edible. I did remove the flower, however. It was not.

Lately, I've been feeling extremely fortunate to participate in this blogging arena. While there have been some frustrations along the way, and unhappy decisions made at times (like this whole private business....which I still know is ultimately the correct decision for me but does not jive with my own personal philosophies) I would be shallow and ungrateful if I didn't acknowledge the opportunities for friendship it has provided this year. I have met and been welcomed with open arms by some incredible people. A little over 50 people. 50 people that I have no real reason to know, but I do because they blog. And I blog. And worlds collided.

Now, I will not pretend that all 50 have become close, bosom-y friends. But a couple have. I think that's pretty incredible.

I'll spare you the other 4,820 reasons. For now.

A Few Things

• I think I have a rotator cuff injury. It hurts to put on my bra and wrap a towel around myself (I'm just using those examples to explain the type of motion that causes the most pain in my shoulder. I'm really not trying to put any traumatic images in your head).
• I worked out at the gym today for the first time in a month. The daycare people even said, "It's been awhile since we've seen you." I guess it's a good thing that they recognize me, right?
• I almost made a major gaffe. On Sunday, my heart sunk as I realized despite my best intentions, I had never called and "made sure" the church building was reserved for our ward activity on Saturday night. I called the building scheduler, even though every 3rd Saturday is supposed to be automatically reserved for our ward's use, and was told that the building was scheduled for a wedding reception. I have felt sick for the last two days, but when finally calling my bishop yesterday to explain my lameness and apologize, he...um.....happily?....informed me that the wedding was off! I guess the fiance was a bad apple. So, pizza and game night is back on! I'm so glad. For a no hassle ward activity, making calls about it being canceled was going to be a lot more work than I intended to do.
• Yesterday, while I was driving Sam, Henry, Matt and Kate back to my house for an afternoon of play, Sam asked me, "Mom, what's a hooker?" I knew, I just knew, he couldn't mean what it means so kept stalling and digging for more information. "What?" "A hooker." "How do you spell it?" "huh?" "What did you see it on?" Whispering to Matt, "I told you." More panic as I ask, "I don't understand what you mean. Tell me again." This time...."You know...something that hooks something else." "On a car?" "Yeah". "Oh...that's called a tow truck." "No..what's the hooker called." "Um....I think it's called a hitch." "Yes, that's right. A hitch" Thank goodness. I really didn't think a five and four year old were curious about that.
• I almost broke my arm yesterday. I was driving through a drive through to get lunch for Sam and Henry (I swear...not for me. I had a solitary lunch reading at Cafe Rio. Instead of volunteering during my kid-free part of our swap day, I went and got Seth outfitted for scouts. Then I had about 40 minutes until pick-up time and treated myself to the pork tostada. Yummy). Anyway, you know those garbage cans that have an opening at just the right height for a driver to throw stuff away from their rolled down window? On my way to window #1, I gathered a bunch of garbage off the passenger seat to throw away. The problem was, I didn't come to a complete stop and I was going just fast enough to slam my arm against the car door frame with my hand still reaching into the garbage. It still hurts. But separately from my shoulder. Same arm though.
• It's been windy and cold for two days now. It makes me grumpy and irrational. If I miss 60 degree weather and am suddenly forced to be hot for several months, skipping our pleasant spring jacket weather because this cold has gone on for too long, I will not be reasonable this summer. I need transitions. Spring and Fall are great buffers against summer for me. Love summer, and all of its opportunities, but I don't do well with persistent heat. Besides, I really dislike wind. It makes me feel sad. And nervous.
  

Tell me something about your day.

Wanna See Some Pictures? Lots of Pictures?

Grab a chair. Perhaps a nice, cool, refreshing beverage. For the super brave, a wrist guard to prevent future carpel tunnel. This may take awhile because it's been....a long while.

Oh, if only I could share all the stories. You know, the stuff that wasn't captured on film. Like when I parked Maureen's car in long term parking at the airport at 5:30 am and rather than waiting for the shuttle bus to take me to the terminal, I decided to hoof it. Except I got stuck at a fence. And then I had to climb it and throw my suitcase over. And then when we returned, I wanted to redeem myself so skipped the shuttle and tried walking a different way. But I got stuck...again. So I climbed over the fence...again. The only difference was this time, I looked like a criminal at midnight instead of dawn.

Or the time the cute kid came up to me after one of our en mass feedings (restaurants and groups of 100 are a frustrating mix) and said, "You lived during the 80s. Is this song Flock of Seagulls?" I realized that I was old to these students. They weren't even born in the 80s. To them...the 80s are what the 60s are to me. A long ago, funky era. And perhaps more telling was that I could reply, "No. It's Tears For Fears." "You sure?" he questioned? "100% positive". And I was.

But I can't. Instead, I offer pictures for my memories. I'll let them tell the stories...

I really can't say enough about how much I loved Charleston, South Carolina. It's a fantastic place to visit. You learn so much, it's unbelievably beautiful, and ripe with history. This is a picture of a early revolutionary war era house. I could totally live here.

Most of the homes in historic Charleston are what is called "Single Room" style. They have this big piazza on the side that allowed for open doors and windows but protection from the wind and rain. I guess it gets pretty hot there in the summer, but springtime sure is nice. Maureen and I toured through one of these during some free time.

Maureen's choir sang at the oldest church in Charleston, a methodist church. It dates to the late 1600s.

The lower level

I thought this was a fun picture of Maureen. It was so windy this day.

We did a boat tour of Charleston Harbor. We didn't stop but got close to Ft. Sumter, the site of where the first shots of the Civil War were directed at (Union troops had control, the Confederacy fired from Ft. Johnson and within 24 hours, the Confederacy controlled the harbor.)

WINDY!

Another fort, Ft. Moultrie, on the west side of the harbor. You can squint and see Ft. Sumter on the left side. Charleston's skyline is in the background (small). So interesting for me to learn about our history of defense.

Cannons and how they moved them.

A self-portrait on the beach.

Maureen's choir did a high school exchange with a very talented choir in Charleston. I couldn't believe how much energy teenagers create when surrounded by their peers. I could feel the buzz afterwards. Both schools had a blast doing this.

Later that evening, the choir did a clinic with a college professor at the Charleston campus. Look....a circle!

Charelston's Patriot Point. The USS Yorktown was the first air-craft carrier opened to the public. Very cool. And this is what 100 people arriving at something looks like.

We also went on this submarine. No way I could live on one of those.

A little Top Gun action for me.

Maureen's choir sang some patriotic songs on the ship. It sounded great.

Up on the flight deck. I had Danger Zone stuck in my head the rest of the day. Now, I have it in my head again. Super.

We toured a couple of southern plantations. A little too close to the crocs, if you ask me.

A big live oak with Spanish Moss. Beautiful. But not those white legs. My eyes!

Maureen with her choir in front of the plantation house.

Sisters at Tybee Beach, Georgia.

A lighthouse that was on the agenda to visit, but we ran out of time so we just drove by it. Yup. There it is.

We went to this fort where they made us pretend we were in bootcamp (we just had to do some marching drills and turn when they told us to). They fed us dinner later and I thought these flags captured the south.

They taught us how to fire a Civil War cannon and then actually did it. It was loud.

The next week I went home to Montana because my parents came home from their mission! This is Sarah making a sign with the children.

At the airport. They all wanted to hold the same part of the sign.

Welcome Home!

Fresh off the plane! yay!

Some of their friends came to the airport as well.

We all helped with the luggage out to the car.

Sam and Ian figuring out how to get on the tall fence.

I remember doing this, but it seems WAY more dangerous now that my kids want to.

Self portrait with my mother.

One of the many feeding times. When you get this many kids together...it just always seems to be feeding time.

Henry in a hat from Myanmar.

Emily and I ventured over to the local children's museum on our last day in Helena. The kids loved it.

Wind and vacuum stuff. I don't know.

There was this "brain motion" table.

But wait....it's a children's museum. And look at the children that want a turn.

Brendan and Seth battle it out. The ball moves towards Brendan.

Sammy gives it a go.

Emily is master of mindball. Look at her victorious ball placement.

I really tried to focus, but Ian's mind was too powerful. And the ball seemed to always move to the person on the right.

Andrea's family came for spring break and our kids to to play together again. Seth and Emma played like no time at all had passed.

My parents, Jen and Christopher's family, and Jon and Tara's family all came for General Conference, Spring Break and Seth's birthday and baptism. It was a full, busy week, with lots and lots of family time:)

Jen broke her foot at the beginning of the week. It put a hamper on their week, for sure.

My dad got tired of all the trash outside so took care of it himself. This is such a perfect example of my dad. I am embarrassed to admit how many times I thought, "I wish someone would take care of this trash!" without bothering to do it myself.

The Homeowner's Association thanks you.

Seth turned eight and we had a football party. Christopher leads all the cousins, plus friend Ethan in a game of flag football.

Hut, hut.

Seth always had a plan.

With Tara around to decorate, Seth got a really cute cake! But...some child, who clearly needs more parental supervision, got his hands on it. Oh.......Henry.

Cute Seth. Cute cake.

I, of course, forgot candles. This is Seth pretending to blow them out.

A party isn't complete without the pinata. Jon only got whacked a few times. Grandpa gets in on the fun.

I filled it with 400 pieces of Dubble Bubble. We had gum coming out of our ears.

Seth and Ethan.

Then came the baptism day. Our family in some bad light.

Jay and me with Seth in his new suit.

I love this picture.

We had everyone over for lunch afterwards. Sam's Club cake.

The spread. Plus pizza.

Some of our family members visiting. It was finally nice enough to have all the kids play outside....and they actually want to do it.

Saturday night, we rode Trax into downtown Salt Lake to walk around Temple Square and go to a Jazz game.

Johnson Family

Jay teaching Seth about Joseph Smith. He's always teaching our kids.

Jon and Tara's family in the tabernacle.

Caleb and Seth. Best friends since....lunch! (I love this story, Tara)

Our view of the game. It's always fun to go to a game.

Even Henry had fun. He's grown up a lot since our football game days.

Sarah and Sam.

Back to normal yesterday now that everyone has left. Jay and the kids wrestling on a Sunday afternoon.

Henry at the ophthalmologist this morning. Yup. He's going to wear glasses like his big brother. More on that later.

Well? Do you feel like you've been with me this last month? The crazy thing is, I felt like I didn't take as many pictures as I normally do. I'm glad I have these.

I can't believe it's already the middle of April! The rest of the month is busy, although less trip and visitor filled, but time is starting to fly. We move less than three months. Two and a half. I can't believe this year in Utah is almost over.

I hope you enjoyed your beverage and that your wrist is not sore from holding a computer mouse. You can get up and stretch now:)