We had a talk on temperance in Sacrament Meeting a couple weeks ago. I had so many insights that I actually grabbed a crayon from Wink and started taking notes. I don't know where the notes are now, though. I meant to blog about it right after church, but it was a busy day and I never got around to it. I don't know what made me remember this morning, but I'm glad I did.

Anyway, the speaker started off by talking about how we were always having problems in church building trying to get the temperature someplace where everybody was comfortable. The gym is always chilly. Sometimes the chapel is cold, sometimes hot. The sisters in Relief Society are always cold, the nursery is pretty cold, too. But some of the primary classrooms get uncomfortably hot. People mess with the thermostats--some turn it up some turn it down.

In our homes, we have the thermostat sat to hopefully keep the same temperature. But depending on the season, we turn it up or down. Even when we think we finally have it at the perfect, comfortable, affordable temperature, some kid comes running in and leaves the door open and we get a blast of hot or cold air that changes the perfect temperature of the house and it takes a while to get back to the stable temperature we want.

That's temperance. Not too hot, not too cold. Finding that moderate balance. There will be outside forces that require us to re-evaluate what our personal settings are? Are we too hot? Are we too cold? What little adjustments do we need to make to regain that balance?

It was kind of cool because, first of all, I don't think I've ever heard anybody speak on temperance. Maybe something from the 1800s that was all about not drinking alcohol. It's a principle I haven't considered much. But I liked this way of describing it. It's not a state that is achieved and then you just stay there. It's a constant work of adjusting and refining. A little this way, and then a little bit back. Like a pendulum where each swing of the arm is a little less extreme as you hone in on perfection.

Another thing I had not thought of is that temper and temperature and temperance all have the same root. Previously had thought of "temper" as a bad thing. Something that should be controlled before you lose it. But your temper is just your temperance. Losing your temperance. Going to the extreme. Kind of eye-opening to me.

Mack's Feet

2012-01-26T09:40:00.002-07:00

For the past several years, Mack has night-time problems with his feet. It's not constant, by any means. In fact, it tends to come and go in spurts. He wakes up in pain from his feet for a few days or a few weeks and then it doesn't happen again for months.

Last night was one of those nights.

At first we thought maybe his foot had just fallen asleep in the night and he didn't have the vocabulary to describe it. Because we couldn't see anything wrong with his foot. The skin wasn't broken. He wasn't bruised. He had been asleep, so it wasn't from twisting the ankle or rolling on his foot or anything like that.

I started to wonder if it could be some kind of nerve pain. The Hubba often wonders if it is growing pains. The pain seems to be on the top of his feet, near the ankle. Last night it was just in one foot, but often it's in both feet.

Several months ago, at wit's end about what it could possibly be or how to treat it, I just started putting a heating pad on his feet and giving him some ibuprofen. That actually seemed to help quite a bit.

A while ago, I was reading a transcript of a workshop on using a rebozo in childbirth. The woman speaking was a traditional Mexican midwives and part of what Irene Sotelo said made a deep impact on me:

Question: Where did you get your knowledge? Was it from other healers and midwives or all from God, or both?
Answer: Everything came from God. People would come with pain, whatever pain, and I would just go and work on these people, trying this, trying that, to help them to feel better. When I work with people, I don't work with any fear. I don't worry that I might do them harm. I do it gently, and I am told what to do. I trust. And I believe that there is, and I have, this extra sixth sense that tells me what to do, and God speaks to me.
There are a lot of people that I've seen, wonderful techniques and wonderful massages-Japanese style and all kinds-but I always go back. I have to stick to the one from Doña Irene. This is my thing, this is what I have, and this is where I need to stay.
I remind you that I've been telling you that the women teach you, the experiences teach you. Sometimes when somebody would come to my house, and I didn't know what to do, I didn't tell her, "I don't know how to help you." If somebody says, "I need your help, I'm in pain for this," and I didn't know what to do, I didn't convey this to my client and say, "Well, I don't know what to do." I would just think, OK, I need to, I need to, in the name of God, I need to do something. So I'd go and get some oil and rub it on, and I'd start touching the woman. She's feeling good and feeling that healing energy, and right away a person would give me feedback: "Oh, that feels so good. I feel so much rested already." And by giving that feedback, that is how I knew.
So we'll have to pay attention, attention to when the woman comes, the person comes, what's going on, opening to all our senses, and then we'll know what to do, essentially.

So last night, Mack came into my room telling me his foot hurt. I first let him climb in bed next to me and I just started rubbing his foot. He fell asleep pretty quickly. Later, the Hubba moved him back to his own bed. Sometime later he came back in sobbing in pain. I had him climb into bed with me and he was just thrashing around, writhing in pain, grabbing his foot. I held him and sang to him until he calmed down a bit. Then I sat up (gargantuan effort, I was so sleepy!!) and began to massage his foot. I thought about what this midwife had said and tried to pay attention to what I was doing.

He settled way down as I began rubbing and exploring his foot. I tried to see if anything felt amiss or abnormal. The only thing that jumped out at me was there was this one place that I kept wanting to return back to. It was like my fingers were just calling me there to this one hollow of his foot--that indentation between the top of the foot and the ankle bone popping out on the side. So I focused a lot of time there. Eventually he fell deeply asleep and I lay down, too.

Later on he was very wrestless in his sleep and moving his legs all around. I sat up and began rubbing his foot again until he stopped moving and started breathing more deeply.

I lost quite a bit of sleep last night. But I feel like I actually took care of my son in his need more so than when I just give him the ibuprofen and go back to bed. I don't know what's up with his feet. I hope we figure it out soon, though. Poor guy. It felt fine this morning. The pain only happens in the middle of the night. Maybe today after school, I'll massage and feel around his foot when it's not hurting so I have something to compare it to when he is in pain.

My Children's Friend

2012-01-26T09:20:00.000-07:00

Something has been bothering me for a long time. I see the idea postulated in comments to articles. I read it in blogs. I see women saying it on facebook. It's the idea that we are supposed to be MOTHERS not FRIENDS to our kids.

And I think I understand that the point they are trying to make is that it's important to set boundaries and rules and teach and mentor. I also think they are saying that it's more important to do those things than to...what? Hang out with your kid? Have fun with your kid? Let them get away with whatever they want because you are equals?

But it just grates on my nerves every time I hear that spouted off. It's a cute little sound byte, I suppose, that quickly justifies a "mean" mom. And by "mean" I don't mean "mean", right? When moms are being "mean" they are being strict, holding firm, letting consequences happen. Not actually being naughty.

But as an actual parental philosophy it kind of stinks. It's completely meaningless at best and downright false at worst.

John 15:12-14
This is my commandment, that ye love one another as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command you.

James 2:23
And the scripture was fulfilled which saith, Abraham believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness: and he was called the Friend of God.

Doctrine and Covenants 88:3
Wherefore I now send upon you another Comforter, even upon you my friends, even the Holy Spirit of Promise; which other comforter is the same that I promised unto my disciples, as is recorded in the testimony of John.

The way I see it, if the Savior of the World is my Friend, and there is a way for Him to call me a friend, then there is no good reason on this earth why I could not or should not be friends with my own children. In fact, because "Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ" (The Family: A Proclamation to the World), it seems of the utmost important that we, as parents, follow the example of God and actually be friends with our children.

Being a mother, not a friend is a false dichotomy. Either, the person claiming it doesn't really understand what parenting or motherhood is all about, or else they have a false conception of what true friendship is. I think that being a friend is a very important part of motherhood. And if we think we are going to get anywhere with our kids without befriending them, we are going to have a lot of problems. Why would they ever be willing to listen to us if we don't first listen to them? How will they want to obey and serve us if we aren't helping and serving them? Why would they want to do anything with the family if we aren't also seeking out their companionship and their insights and their experience?

I may be my children's mother because of mortality. But their souls are just as old and eternal as mine is. I may have more earthly experience and understand the culture we live in better. Sheer time gives me an advantage in this temporal and finite existence. I hope to share that wealth of knowledge with them to make their passing easier and more joyful. But they have their own take on the world, their own stores of knowledge gained in pre-earthly realms. It is just as vitally important that I be humble enough to sit at their feet and listen to what they have to teach me. They are my equals. I would even go so far as saying that they are actually my superiors in so many, many ways.

It is right that they should honor me as a mother because of the sacrifice of my life given for them. It is an additional, sweet gift if I should respect them and listen to them and laugh with them enough that they choose to call me a friend. That we love each other's company and crave each other's conversation is a beautiful thing that only bonds a family tighter together and makes it more likely that children will pay attention and follow when there is correction that needs to be made or principles that need to be taught or direction that needs to be given.

I count it as one of the greatest blessings in my life that I can open up to my children and talk about things that have been hard on me or that they care to listen when I've had a hard day, or think to ask about it when I've had a great day! I love getting texts throughout the day where they tell me what's going on and we joke and laugh together. I also love the serious conversations we have where testimonies are borne and spiritual experiences shared. It is my great privilege to count these great people as my best friends.

Finding Grace

2012-01-25T18:29:00.000-07:00

So, this morning I was re-reading old blog posts in a moment of unmotivated indulgence and I stumbled across this one about Come Thou Fount. I haven't sung that one in a while. Long enough that I was having trouble remembering the words. They are so beautiful and they spoke to my heart. So I took a shower and I sang as many of the words as I could remember.

After I got dressed, I read some in the Book of Mormon for a bit. And then I headed over to the Kindergarten class to tell them about doulas. It wasn't so bad. I asked how many of them knew someone who had ever had a baby. Then I let some of them tell me about their baby brothers or sisters. I talked to them about doctors and midwives and how they helped mommies have babies but doctors and midwives couldn't be there all the time. I was a doula and doulas stayed with moms the whole time they are having babies. And sometimes that's a long time because having a baby is hard work! I make sure mom is comfortable and not too hot, not too cold. I get her whatever she wants and help her feel safe. Then I let each kid have a turn sitting on the birth ball. I sat on the birth ball with Pinkleberry on my lap and let her pick kids with their hands up who had questions. One little girl wanted to know more about midwives and how they were different from doctors and nurses. One little boy asked where I worked. I clarified that I could work wherever moms had their babies and told him that many women had their babies in a hospital, but some women choose to have their babies in a birth center or in their own homes and so I could work in any of those places. It was kind of cool. At the end of my presentation, I realized I hadn't actually said the word "doula" very often. So I asked if anybody remembered the name of my profession. They all kind of mumbled similar sounding words except for the one girl right in the middle of the room who shouted "Doula!"

I did feel kind of bad because, especially after everyone had a chance to sit on the birth ball, the class was a little rowdy. It actually wasn't bothering me at all, but I felt bad for riling them up because the teacher kept telling them all very sternly to sit down and be quiet.

Anyway, Pinkleberry started being clingy when it was time for me to leave and I was getting frustrated because, Please! Why is she all of a sudden acting like that? But practicing grace today, I found some patience and reminded her that we were going to the zoo right after school and I needed to go home and pack her lunch so we could leave. She let me go without much fuss after that.

Then I waited in the front of the school for Wink to be done with preschool. The birth ball came in handy. Normally I have to stand, but I had my own perfectly comfortable seat today! We walked home and I packed lunches and got everything together that I needed. We went back to pick up Pink from kindergarten and I was almost halfway home before I remembered that I needed to talk to her friends' grandmother about coordinating this thing. So I went back. But Pink's friend was being picked up by a friend that day. No grandma. I was a little confused and so the little girl told me that she was going home with a friend today and we'd have to play together another day. That didn't really help my confusion at all and I was still standing there when the teacher came up and said that the grandma wasn't able to pick the friend up today so she was going home with someone else and they'd probably have to reschedule our play date.

Anyway, I was walking home a little frustrated at not understanding the situation. But practicing grace, I decided that I wouldn't let it bother me and that I would still go ahead and take the girls to the zoo by myself anyway. At the last minute, I remembered I had the grandma's phone number and I called. She had been delayed at a doctor's appointment and wasn't going to be able to pick up her granddaughter on time. So the granddaughter was getting picked up my someone else. But she was just leaving and was still planning on going to the zoo.

I got to the zoo first, determined to be a good, fun mom. Because even when you don't feel like it, it's good to be nice and happy and fun. That's grace. That's what I was striving for. I decided that a fun mom thing to do would be to take a picture of herself and her two radiant daughters.

A fun mom would even blog that photo even though she hates it and hopes she doesn't really look like that.

And because no one was there yet and it was cold we strolled through the zootique/gift shop, which is another thing I would normally never do. Did you know that the zoo sells packages of sour cream and onion crickets? And spicy, crispy worms? I'm serious. $3 for a small little box of insects. They had chocolate covered bugs, too.

Anyway, as it turns out, not only were we meeting Pink's friend and grandma, but we were also meeting two other little girls and their mothers there. It's moments like these when I realize how shy I can be sometimes because my first reaction was just that sickening drop in your stomach. But then I introduced myself (one of the girls and her mother had been in my kids' swimming classes this summer and so I had recognized them). And it turned out great because I ended up meeting and talking with two women who I see practically every day at Kindergarten pick up but had never actually met. And I liked both of them. And now maybe I won't feel like a loser when I go pick up Pinkleberry and all the other moms are sitting around talking, but I just duck by their conversation and squeeze us through, feeling lonely and not included and not known.

GRACE! Where was I? Anyway, it was lovely getting to know these two women. Also, the weather was actually pretty gorgeous. High in the mid 40s. Mostly sunny. I bundled up the girls but I was only wearing a long sleeve shirt and the Hubba's fleece. Not even a jacket. There were moments when a jacket would have been nice and I wondered what I was thinking. But most of the time, as long as the sun was out, it was pretty great.

When it was time to leave, Pinkleberry was kind of throwing a little tantrum and I forgot about grace. Wink was hanging from the monkey bars and I ran over there and helped her finish the course and then whisked her away. Pink saw me help her across and she wanted to be helped across, too. But all I could think of was that I was never going to get out of there and I was upset that she wouldn't just come when I said it was time to go. She came but wasn't too happy that she didn't get to go on the monkey bars. Then I wanted her to go potty before we left but she refused to go. I finally had coerced her into the doorway of the bathroom but Wink wasn't there. So if I went in, Wink would be left out alone. But I had already worked so hard to get Pink to the threshold of the bathroom. I knew that if I ran to grab Wink, Pink would bolt.

I still hadn't remembered about grace so I was kind of mean to Pink and told her that this was her last chance to go potty. We were going to be in the car for a long time and if she had to go or if she peed her pants, I just didn't want to hear about it! By the time we were getting in the car, Pinkleberry was very mad at me and I was very frustrated. She was crying and complaining about wanting to stay longer and I told her that next time I wouldn't bring her. As she continued crying and complaining, I said something about not bringing her to the zoo again if she wasn't grateful for going. And she yelled,

IT'S NOT THE ZOO! IT'S JUST YOU!

Which I actually found kind of amusing, almost funny. Even despite the mood I was in. And kind of sad. I remembered grace. The closer we got to Mack's school, I realized that we were going to be arriving right on time. That's actually a bad thing. Because if you are there for pick up right on time, the traffic is horrible and there's hardly any point to being on time because you'll just be stuck maneuvering your big mega van through a too-small parkinglot filled to the brim with crazy driving parents and kids running every which way. I could see that I was going to have ten or fifteen minutes to spare. And I wished that I had taken an extra minute to help Pinkleberry across the monkey bars. Maybe then she would have gone potty without putting up a fuss and we would be about ten minutes late for picking Mack up, which is perfect.

I decided not to fight the traffic at the school. I just parked in the parking lot. Mack likes the extra time after school because French school has swings on the playground. But he rarely gets a turn on the swings during recess. After school, though, he and Zo swing away. I figured I would just let him swing and when the traffic had died down, I would go and get him.

So I turned in my seat and motioned for Pink to come sit with me. She sat on my lap and I gave her a big hug and apologized to her. I told her I was very sorry for not taking her on the monkey bars and that I wished I had. It obviously meant a lot to her and I would try to pay attention to that next time.

I had thought that Winkleberry was asleep but she unbuckled too and I had both girls on my lap pretending to drive the car. I reached into my fanny pack and pulled out some gum (almost unheard of that I would even have gum on me and especially that I would offer it to children!). They had the choice of orange cream pop flavor or apple pie flavor. They chose orange creme pop. I tried to show them how to blow bubbles and they took turns popping mine.

About ten or fifteen minutes later, they got back in their car seats without complaint and we drove over to pick up Mack in the pick up zone. When Wiyah called needing a ride home, it was no big deal. I was right in the area. As soon as we got home, I pulled out the Velveeta cheese, a can of diced tomatoes and green chilies and some leftover tomatoes and onions from our burrito dinner the other day and heated that up on the stove. We pulled out some tortilla chips and everyone could have as much nachos as they wanted for a snack.

I spent a little time on the computer. Baboo came over and was reading some humorous stuff with me. We laughed together. Finally I put the computer down and faced my house. I asked the boys who were in the living room to help me pick up. There was a little squabbling about who was working harder and who wasn't doing anything, but I remembered grace and pretty much just ignored it. I saw the living room becoming livable again and was relieved. I almost became frustrated with the teen whose turn it was to make dinner tonight when I felt I was being ignored. But I remembered grace and decided that I didn't need to do anything more.

So I sat down to blog. And now that this post is almost done, I am about to get up and go straighten up the kitchen. Overall, the day turned out much better than I expected. Or I should say I made my day into what I preferred it to be through sheer force of will and hope and trying to do what I know I should do and the blessings of God. The laundry is still not done. But that's what tomorrow is for.

Putting on my Grace Face

2012-01-25T09:41:00.003-07:00

As it turns out today is the perfect day for practicing a little grace. This is not the most stressful day/week/month/year of my life by any means. So what is out of sync today is me. Somehow my capacities are diminished lately.

"Fake it 'till you make it."

Do you know that phrase? That's what I'll be doing today.

Little Things

2012-01-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

* Receiving this email today:
"I loved being with your family at youth conference. I love getting to know your girls better. I looked at Baboo’s scriptures in church on Sunday and they are just so marked up and awesome. She is an incredible girl- dependable, smart, witty and fun and it’s fun getting to know Wiyah now that she is in [laurels]. They are awesome girls."

* JJ going through his backpack, taking a look at his homework assignments while Kelvinator watched. He explained to Kelvinator about geography, geometry, Spanish and so much more for more than 30 minutes. It was a sweet, sweet conversation that had Kelvinator totally enraptured. At one point during Spanish, JJ said, "See that? You just translated a whole sentence from Spanish to English by yourself! You can totally understand it!"

Today I Am Doing One of the Last Things In the World That I Want to Do

2012-01-25T07:58:00.000-07:00

That means I don't want to do what I am doing today but I am doing it anyway.

If it were up to me, here's what I would do today:
1. Take the little girls to school and not pick them up.

2. Clean the house, especially focusing on laundry. I got used to my laundry state over the past several months and having to dig for clothes is really ticking me off.

3. Call my friend Jess and talk while I am cleaning.

4. Relax and do something that I want to do. Even if it's just feeling sorry for myself.

5. If the mood strikes me, maybe do something to prepare for the onslaught of hungry kids returning home.

6. Not pick Mack up from school.

7. Not go anywhere or do anything tonight.

8. Commiserate with the Hubba about his stressful week and think of something to do to ease his burdens.

But that is not my day today. What I will actually be doing...

1. Taking Pink and Wink to school, loading the dishwasher, getting myself ready for the day and heading over to Pinkleberry's school with my birth ball to tell the kids something about what I do as a doula.

2. Picking Pink and Wink up from school and taking them to the free day at the zoo with one of Pink's school friends and her Grandma.

3. Spending a couple hours there walking around outside in the cold and then racing back in order to pick up Mack from school on time.

4. Come home to a trashed house full of hungry kids and no food in sight.

5. Stress about food and dinner, ad nauseum, etc, and so forth and so on... With lots of weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth--mostly mine.

6. Probably forget some evening kids' activity and cry a lot from the mommy guilt. (That's what happened last night, anyway.)

7. Commiserate with the Hubba about his stressful week, but otherwise feel useless to help.

8. Go to bed (sweet oblivion) as early as possible (Also what I tried to do last night, but was interrupted almost every single hour until I had insomnia and lay awake for hours stressing.)

What's for dinner?

2012-01-24T16:57:00.003-07:00

Today we went to the dentist and wouldn't you know it, the kid with the cavities is the kid whose teeth *I* am still in charge of . We got home later than usual in the afternoon and I have been barraged with requests for food. I am so seriously on the brink of losing my mind. I finally told Pinkleberry that if she could have the burrito she was asking for but that would be her dinner. I am not responsible for stocking the house with enough snacks to fill everyone's tummies AND making dinner one hour later.

To which Winkleberry responded in a sad, sad voice on the verge of tears:
Mom, you're being so mean... I mean selfish.

But they've done it. I spent so much brain power saying yes and no to various questions about food that the children have burned me out.

This morning I was day dreaming about renting out our basement to a culinary arts student. Like I would let them live there for free and all they'd have to do is make dinner. That would be such an awesome trade.

Alternatively, I was also daydreaming about being able to just wake up and make a nice breakfast for everyone. But I never actually have time to make nice breakfasts because I'm busy waking people up multiple times, helping people get dressed, finding backpacks, signing planners, making lunches, brushing hair and teeth (although apparently not well enough). And this morning throw in there: shoveling the driveway and the sidewalk as well as making a last minute trip to the grocery store at 6am to pick up accessories for school.

So pretty much, either my job is to make food OR my job is to do everything else. I'm clearly not capable of living this life where I'm expected to both everything AND cook. It makes me grouchy and discouraged.

I keep imagining that when it's just the Hubba and me that it will be blissfully wonderful to only have to shop and cook for two people and that I'll make nice, healthy, filling, warm meals all the time. But if I can't or don't want to, it will also be equally liberating and there will be no guilt involved if we just fend for ourselves. And that when all the kids are visiting for Sunday dinners it will be sporadic enough and novel enough that I will LOVE the hassle of fixing some delicious and healthy and warm and filling for everyone--you know if I only have to do it a couple times a year or so.

Maybe that's what I'll have to serve up for dinner night, my burned-out remains. The children can just eat me and put me out of my misery.

Overheard

2012-01-24T16:40:00.001-07:00

At the dentist office today, spontaneously...

Wink: Mom, my name and Pinkleberry's name is written on your heart.
Me: Your right. Your names ARE written on my heart.
Wink: And "Mom" and "Pinkleberry" are written on my heart.
Me: You're such a sweet girl.
Wink: And "Baboo" and "Wiyah." They're written on my heart, too.
Me: What about JJ?
Wink: Well, JJ toots in the night.

Overheard

2012-01-24T08:52:00.000-07:00

Last night for Family Home Evening we just played a quick little scripture chase game. The Hubba would say something like, "Find the first verse where it mentions the name of the Anti-Christ who was trampled to death in the land of the Zoramites."

And, can I just say that I was super impressed with the big five children who were playing. I was feeling pretty dumb half the time because they were zipping right to the answers when I didn't even know where to start. Other times, though, I redeemed myself because I knew the answer immediately and could then just easily look up in the index what reference I was looking for.

Anyway, I had just gotten one answer right first. But Baboo said that she had found a scripture that worked, too. The Hubba ended up conceding the point to her because it was true that her answer was an alternate answer and that there had been some ambiguity in the question...

Me: Some people are so competetive!
Baboo: Some people just need to read their sriptures more!

Hilarious. I loved it. Trash talking during a scripture chase!

Little Things

2012-01-23T15:50:00.002-07:00

* Lately Wiyah has been doing her daily scripture study before starting her homework. Several other youth in the ward have testified that it helps them be clear-minded, focused and makes the work easier with the help of the Spirit. Wiyah has found that to be true as well.

* After school, she and Mack have been cozying up together on the couch and reading scriptures together. I'm so grateful for a girl who encourages him in reading in general and in scripture study in particular.

* Listening to Mack trying to say "stiff-neckedness." Oh my.

All the things I've been meaning to say

2012-01-23T09:25:00.000-07:00

There was a day way back when, that my tooth was still hurting. It had been going on daily since that fateful day of the NON-root canal at the dentist. He had said that the pulp inflammation, if it was ever going to go away, would happen in one to two weeks. We were at about the three-week point. I had had a blessing. I didn't know what else to do. The pain was still there. That night in bed I mentioned to the Hubba that this was the type of thing that always confused me. Was the fact that I was still in pain a sign that nothing was going to change and I should just go ahead and get the root canal? Or did I just need to be patient longer and give it more time and exercise my faith? I didn't mind doing either one, honestly. I just didn't know which was right. If I could know the tooth was going to finally stop hurting, I would love nothing more than to wait for that happen and I could endure the pain knowing it would eventually end. On the other hand, if it was NEVER going to stop hurting, then I'd rather just get it taken care of now and stop torturing myself.

Anyway, the next morning the pain finally gave way for good and never came back. That tooth is still fairly sensitive to cold. But I don't have to drink through a straw anymore. Eating yogurt or ice cream is mostly ok, but taking a big old swig of ice cold water is something I definitely try to avoid. There's one spot that really bothers me when I bite down from where the filling needs to be filed down. But I'm scared. Because that pain from the last time I went in was blindingly, amazingly overwhelming. I've never been in pain like that before. It was more painful than running on stress fractures. More painful than blood clots. More painful than natural childbirth (har har--doesn't even compare because childbirth is awesome).

And so I'm worried that if I go back in and have do this MINOR work to just get rid of a little excess filling that it will somehow re-inflame that tooth pulp again and I'll have to experience that pain again and it won't go away for weeks. Again. It's not so bad really. I've learned to compensate for the most part and chew in a new way now to avoid that spot. I'd rather chew like this for the rest of my life than have an inflamed tooth for another month. But what if it's just a quick little fix and five minutes later I feel so much better?

-------

The Hubba and the kids came home from youth conference on Saturday and I found myself in the kitchen with JJ. I asked him about how it was and the first thing he said was "Mom, they fed us so well there! There was so much food." And he told me about the food and how much of it there was and that he wasn't even hungry the whole weekend. I made a joke about how I didn't even know that was possible and I was happy that he enjoyed the meals.

Later on, there were a few more comments about the quality and quantity of the food. In fact, Wiyah brought home a leftover tin of apple crisp for our family. It was HUMONGOUS. She sat with it on her lap for the 4.5 hour long drive home. I just measured it. It's 12 x 18 inches. We have already served our whole family apple crisp twice (that's actually what we had for lunch yesterday!) and there are still leftovers.

But somehow more talk of the food came up at dinner last night. They were talking about the vast quantities of food. How full they were from the meals--so full, in fact, that even though there were always tons of snacks offered and available, that they were too stuffed to even eat the snacks. Snacks that they would have otherwise have loved! I still felt the feeling of satisfaction that they had been so well-fed and it had come at no expense to me. But I also started feeling kind of angry. Which is embarrassing, really, to admit. But I did. I was angry because I can't ever do that. For whatever the reason (and I think there are two reasons), my family is always hungry and there are no snacks anyway and there will be no stories told to my descendants about being "well-fed" at grandma's table. I just felt awful. Even now I'm about to cry. How silly is that?

And then to top it all off, I was kind of jealous, too. Because they stayed in this resort cabin that slept 80 and was "palatial" (according to Baboo). I was talking to one of the other leaders after choir practice last night and she was telling me about all the amentities and the gorgeous views and all the fun they had. We didn't even have a family vacation last year. Everyone else had things to do and places to be and camps to attend. There wasn't time or opportunity to do anything. I guess I'm just feeling the itch for something new and exciting and a trip and some pampering myself. But it feels really dumb to be jealous of your kids.

----------

2012-01-20T15:36:00.000-07:00

Late last night I found out that the bishop's wife from our previous ward died this week. I had been her visiting teacher for several years. As I read the obituary, I found out that the funeral was today. I decided to go. I am so glad I did.

I think this is only the third funeral I have ever been to. I've only ever been to LDS funerals, too. Are the ones portrayed on TV and movies a good representation of other types of funerals? I love the atmosphere at LDS funerals. There is grief and mourning, but there is laughter and joy and comfort and peace, too.

"Gone From Sight" by Henry Van Dyke was printed in the program. I have loved this poem since the first time I ever heard it. I don't know when that was. But I am happy to have it in its entirety now.

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and startsfor the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speckof white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"
Gone where?
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,hull and spar as she was when she left my side.And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voicesready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

I was also especially touched by one of the photos in the program. It is Ann and her husband. It looks like they might be lying down together, but the photo is cropped too short to really tell for sure. It's cropped right up close around their heads. And she has her head turned to him with a beaming smile. He is gazing at her with unveiled adoration and love. It's the sweetest picture.

I don't actually know what the cause of death was, but she suffered from Alzheimers for the last decade of her life and that seemed to color everything. Each of her children paid a lovely tribute to her. Each of them, in their separate remarks talked about how vibrant and spunky she was, her quick and contagious smile (it was both!), her positive attitude and how she made everyone feel special. Each child felt like they were her favorite.

It made me wonder what my children will say about me at my passing. What stories will they reminisce about me? What character traits stand out the most? When they list the accomplishments of my life, which ones will they think are most important? Which things that I do are making the most impact on their lives? Besides that, who would come to my funeral? I don't feel like I have very many friends. But I've yet to attend a funeral that isn't well-packed. So who would be there? Would anyone travel from far away to attend? Would the hymns sung reflect those songs that will give the most comfort? The ones that best represent my testimony? My favorite songs?

I wish I didn't have to die in order to have a funeral. If I could have it my way, this great gathering of family and friends that I have known over my life time would gather while I was still alive to see it, appreciate it and participate in it, where I could offer my own comfort to those who would mourn. And I actually think it would be really wonderful to hear all the nice things said about me. I honestly think I could use that kind of therapy weekly.

As part of the program, her husband played a piano solo of "O My Father." I didn't even know the bishop could play the piano. I wondered about why he was playing it and if there was some meaning in the song. Was it her favorite? Had she taught it to him? I don't know what the meaning was, but I had the overwhelming sense that there was a specific reason for him playing that song choice. It was a nice piece. But I couldn't look at him while he was playing. It was a very sacred and intimate thing and watching him play it gave the music an almost tangible grief.

I also enjoyed visiting with all my old friends and neighbors. So many people remembered our family and someone was always wanting to chat and catch up with me briefly. I remember when we were first welcomed into that ward that they made us feel like celebrities almost. It still felt that way coming back.

"You cannot remove the sorrow from death without removing love from life."

Blankets and Pillows

2012-01-20T08:15:00.001-07:00

One thing I've been meaning to write about since Christmas is a simple gift that I gave to Pink and Wink. Remember about four years ago when I made Pink that quilt? And I had made the top for a quilt for Wink, too. The plan was to finish the second quilt before she was born. Except that the day I had scheduled for the ladies to come over and help me was the day my water broke. And then I had a newborn and a toddler and I never did finish that quilt. Until sometime this past summer, right? I'm not exactly sure because I can't find where I blogged about it. Did I blog about it?

So now Pink and Wink have matching homemade quilts. They use the same colors and fabrics, but have different designs. And the back of Pink's quilt is pink. The back of Wink's quilt is yellow.

So yadda yadda yadda, that's all old news. The thing I've been meaning to blog about is that for Christmas, I also made them matching pillows with the leftover quilt backing! That was also something I had wanted to since I had the matching fabric and pillows are so easy. But did you know that batting is really expensive? That right there is a stumbling block for me making more quilts or pillows. (The quilts were made without batting. Instead I just used two old, ugly raggedy blankets on the inside.) But. I had this genious idea.

Back when we had Dexter, he actually chewed a whole in the arm of our sofa. There was stuffing/batting everywhere. We were so upset because it had been a nice sofa. Still, it was the kind of thing that could be repaired so we saved all the batting. Unfortunately, before we could repair it, he chewed on it some more and suddenly there was no kind of repair you could do to save the sofa. But we still had all the batting saved up. So I used that! It wasn't quite enough, though, for two little pillows. So I also got an old flat pillow that was good for nothing and I opened it up. I started pulling out stuffing by the handfuls. It was kind of weird because the outside of the pillow was all matted and tough and not useable. But once you cut the pillow open, the batting on the inside was still usable. So I would just grab these handfuls and fluff them back up and stick them in the new pillows.

That's how we reduce, reuse, recycle here at the Beautopotamus household!

Anyway, the girls were thrilled, which was sweet because really they were just pillows. But it makes me feel awesome the way they talk about "my blanket" and don't like having to use any other pillow or blankets. The one thing I regret is that I didn't make the blankets a bit wider. They have irregular sized Ikea bed/mattresses and I made the quilt to fit the width of their beds. But as they grow bigger, and are bigger lumps under the blanket, the blanket won't quite cover from side to side, you know? Oh well. Live and Learn. Maybe I should start working on the Bigger Quilt Project now so that they're ready to go by the time they've outgrown these.

Ode to Basketball

2012-01-19T21:25:00.002-07:00

Basketball is the balm for my soul.
It is the anti-blah.
It is a beautiful union of endorphins and adrenaline,
Skill and speed and fun.

So. I played tonight. This game was on a full-size court. So I expected to be dead. But I actually surprised myself. The first two quarters were just fine. Then after the half I had a hard time picking it back up again. But I was redeemed in the fourth quarter. Overall, I was very pleased with my stamina.

One of our best players, the high school All-Star, is away at youth conference and I was worried that we wouldn't have enough people to play. So I called some folks. In the end it was me, my running buddy, a lady who played last year and her adult daughter, and a new friend that I'm just starting to get to know. My running buddy and I love basketball, but the other three women said they didn't really play basketball and one claimed that she had NEVER played (so sad!).

But you know what happens when you have three women on your team who don't know what they are doing and you don't have any subs? They step it up, let me tell you. These were some of the scrappiest players I've seen. Light on their feet. Quick. Stealthy. In fact, the entire reason we had possession of the ball for the first quarter seemed to be because of their steals.

Anyway, it wasn't my best basketball ever. But the other team was really good. Probably the best we've played so far. And did I mention it was a full size court? So women's basketball is traditionally low-scoring. And we play only 6 minute quarters so games are even lower-scoring usually. So I'm not going to tell you what the final score was. But the low-scoring games are just part and parcel of what happens when you're past your prime and the game is being played in slow motion. Still...

I don't think we scored at all in the first quarter. But we got ahead the second quarter and never lost the lead after that. I scored about 40% of our team's points and we won by 6. I feel pretty good about that. One thing I know about myself is that I'm not a good ball handler. That's ok. I leave the guard work to other players. But for being the kind of player that plays down low all the time, I really need to work on my rebounding. It's really sorry.

In the Annals of Weirdness

2012-01-19T15:59:00.001-07:00

Baboo needed a ski jacket to go to Youth Conference this weekend. She doesn't have a ski jacket. So instead, she is wearing X's ski jacket. His OLD ski jacket. The one he outgrew this season. I'm just shocked that Baboo is wearing X's hand-me-downs. And they fit! It just blows my mind.

The Non-Lunch

2012-01-19T11:38:00.002-07:00

I have grown increasingly irritated with my little girls over lunch.

Way back when the big 4 were the only 4, I bought those cafeteria style divided plates. I found that I served a greater variety of food with those plates as opposed to regular plates because the divisions created great space for messy food that would otherwise spill or seep--canned fruit, yogurt, applesauce, etc.. My kids have grown up eating lunch off of those plates and the day that I'm not serving at least three and sometimes four different food items for lunch is a sad and sorry day.

Lately, my girls have been complaining about being hungry all the time. It drives me crazy. About an hour after breakfast, they are hungry. We eat an early lunch every day and then I hear about their hunger from lunch until dinner. Just before dinner I tell them they cannot eat anything because I want them to eat a healthy meal. But they start wailing and saying "I don't want dinner! I want something that is yummy!" Which is really just NOT what you want to be screaming at your mother when she's in the middle of making a meal for 10.

The thing is, though, the reason they are hungry all the time is because breakfast is the only meal of the day they actually eat. I make them a huge lunch with lots of variety because I don't want to hear how hungry they are all day. But they don't eat the lunch. Usually the big kids come home from school and ask to polish off what's left on their plates and I let them. But a lot of times, their lunches just get wasted.

So today I was going to make lunch. I pulled out my divided plates, I started thinking of all the nutritious variety I was going to serve them. But every thing I thought of I knew they hadn't eaten in months. Applesauce, yogurt, PBJ sandwiches, egg salad sandwiches, cheese, even pudding or their all time favorite burritos. I could have filled up their plates with good food that just got wasted and I finally just decided not to.

The one thing I knew they would eat was a bagel. So I gave them each a half. I told them that IF they ate that all gone, I'd get them something else. Pink ate hers, Wink did not. Pink wants more food. Fine. But I honestly don't know what to give her that she will eat. So I'll think I'll just let her wait until she's good and sure he's hungry and willing to eat what I give her.

I'm worried that I'm still going to have to hear about how hungry they are all day long. But since I was doing that anyway, it's not really any great loss I guess.

The Beautopotamus Variety Show

2012-01-19T09:03:00.000-07:00

Today is one of those days. Yesterday Wink was complaining that none of the family pictures in our livingroom include her. The last family photo we have was when I was pregnant with Pink (and the last before that was before Kelvinator was born!). I told her that we'd have to get a family portrait done. And I suddenly realized that we better do it soon before Baboo leaves. And then I started regretting the fact that we have had no working cameras for so long. I've missed lots of Wink's cute toddlerdom and pre-school glory and there are no pictures of all the sweet sibling interactions that I would have documented if I had had a camera. Bummer.

In other news, I don't actually feel like blogging much. Isn't that weird? I have been forcing myself for the past couple of weeks to put something up. But I'm not really feeling it like I usually do. Hence, the sporadic posting.

Also, I have a question for you. The last couple of weeks I've felt like emotional oatmeal. And I was noticing today that all this week I have had to dig for socks. It's been 4 months since I got (and kept) my laundry situation under control. But lately it hasn't been so under control. I was wondering...Do you think the fact that I'm behind on laundry is because of my blah, unmotivated mood? Or am I feeling blah and unmotivated because I'm behind on laundry?

After school today the Hubba and the three big teens are going on a church Youth Conference. They are staying in a resort in the mountains someplace and there will be snow activities, service projects and paintballing. I'm worried about them driving in the snow. And the bishop has been making jokes that they might possibly get snowed in this weekend. It'll be me and 5 kids through Saturday. Should be interesting.

I made homemade yogurt a couple days ago. I had gotten some super cheap jars of all fruit spread. I was determined to use that to sweeten the yogurt. Yeah, it was disgusting. I had to add quite a bit of sugar to make it taste edible. Which leaves me asking the question if it's worth it. I like the idea of healthy, homemade yogurt. But I can't stand seeing all the sweetener I'm putting in.

Anyway. That's it I guess.

Calzones

2012-01-18T20:57:00.001-07:00

So, I made Calzones. Some people totally loved them. Others thought they were merely "good". I think it's worth doing again. Here's the recipe I used:

5 cups whole wheat flour
5 cups white flour
1/3 cup wheat gluten
1 tablespoon salt
3 tablespoons yeast
2 tablespoons Italian seasonings
1 tablespoon garlic powder
1/4 cup olive oil
5 cups warm-hot water

The recipes I looked at all said to use bread flour because blah blah blah "gluten" blah blah blah "protein" blah blah blah makes a better crust. So I took my regular pizza crust recipe and added the herbs and some gluten. I mixed that all up in my mixer the way I normally do. Then I put the dough into a greased mixing bowl to rise for 10 to 15 minutes. I divided the dough up by halving it into 16 portions. I rolled out each little ball of dough with a rolling pin and then filled it with sauce, sauteed onion, sauteed bell peppers, mozzarella cheese and pepperoni. I folded each in half and pinched and rolled the ends together to make a tight seal. I brushed with olive oil and baked at 350 degrees for about 20 minutes.

Here's what I would do differently next time. I would divide the dough up into 32 portions. These calzones were huge and the ratio of filling to crust was not right. It will mean that each calzone will need to be rolled out thinner, but that's ok because they were a little thick before anyway. I need more fillings. I've been looking at other types of fillings too and can't wait to try out again. Also, I wonder if the crust might do better if it were brushed with butter and garlic powder... These stayed really nice in the fridge and froze well, too. They were awesome for sending in school lunches.

Little Things

2012-01-18T20:46:00.000-07:00

* An animated difference of opinion with a teenager who apologizes the next morning.

* JJ giving sweet hugs and kisses to his baby sisters. He has to work for those hugs and kisses, too.

* Bedtime

* Baboo getting glowing ecclesiastical endorsements (for BYU application) from the bishop and Stake President

* A new challenge

* A new (to me) treadmill! Sweat! Winter Running!

* The way my mind feels challenged and my heart feels full when I'm working on family history.

* A lovely visit with my cousin-in-law

* The food I prepared on Saturday that makes my life much easier this week

* Warm, homemade granola on Breyer's vanilla ice cream

* Wiyah's grades ranging from 91%-103% so far this term

* Winkleberry woke up in the middle of the night calling for Baboo.

Overheard

2012-01-18T15:32:00.005-07:00

Driving Mack home from school yields some awesome conversations. This one took place over the course of a couple of days...

Mack: Can I go play at Bobby's house after school?
Me: Well, I'll have to talk to Bobby's mom first. Is Bobby a new friend you made at school today?
Mack: Not really. He kind of annoys me.
Me: How come.
Mack: Well, he keeps saying "onion" over and over again. Probably like 100 times!
Me: And you don't like the word "onion"?
Mack: I just hate onions!

Mack: Today Bobby kept saying a word that I hate over and over again.
Me: Was it "onions?"
Mack: Yeah. And I kept saying "milk".
Me: Why were you saying "milk?"
Mack: Oh that was because someone wanted me to.
Me: Why did they want you to say "milk?"
Mack: I don't know. But I hated it when Bobby was saying "onion." I almost had to kill him after school.
Me: I hope you never kill anyone.
Mack: Well not REALLY kill him. You know, just beat him up.

And then this one happened while I was helping him get ready for school yesterday...

Mack: Did you know when I'm waiting with Dad in the car [The Hubba has about 15 minutes to wait in the parking lot before dropping Mack off at a reasonable time for school.] that he takes me into the fourth dimension and speeds up time?

Homework Help

2012-01-17T18:03:00.000-07:00

I find that I am usually quite alone in how much I enjoy helping my kids with math homework. Most of what I hear from other moms and many dads is that they are usually not much help with the math homework and they hate it. That's not my experience, but there is a subject that I am absolutely clueless to help with. It's totally over my head.

It's not Science. Science comes in a close second to math.

It's not French. French is just below Science. It's easier for me to help with French, but not as personally satisfying as helping with Science.

It's not English. I HATE English. I mean, I love English for myself. But I have no skills or patience whatsoever for the reading of rough drafts, helping with poetry homework, teaching why certain sentences don't work well or why one word is a better choice than another. I like writing and reading. But TEACHING it...ugh. I always say, "Go ask dad!"

But I'm not CLUELESS about English. I know what the teachers want.

The class I'm a blithering idiot about is Geography. I can locate the 7 continents on a globe. I could even name them. But I don't know where countries are or what the land is like in those areas. I'm one of those idiots that people make youtube videos about where they can't find some prominent place that everyobody's supposed to know. That's me. And because I know that I'm utterly deficient in that area, I don't like to ask questions or talk or even really look at a map at all because then people will see. Like I can say I'm a geographical nincompoop and you have one idea of what that means. But how little I actually know is so much less than you would ever suppose that I'd just rather say "I don't know any geography" and let the profound depths of my ignorance remain unplumbed.

The only thing I'm more clueless at than geography would be anything political. Like how those countries interact with each other, or political science, or elections...

I am weary

2012-01-14T22:34:00.000-07:00

It's easy to be weary when you don't get to sleep until 2:30am. Especially easy to be weary when you wake up at 6am.

Then I took Baboo to school and worked on family history for a few hours and found something new and exciting. Then the Hubba and I went to go pick up our first Bountiful Basket.

I can't remember what I did for the rest of the morning. Except there was that one time when I was lying down in bed and the Hubba asked if I was going to take a nap. I wasn't really sure I was going to take a nap, I just knew I wasn't being productive and figured as long as I was NOT doing something needful, maybe I should sleep. Even though I wasn't particularly sleepy. But Wink was kind of whiny and I ended up tickling her and playing with her and gave up on my nap.

After that I got started cooking. I didn't have any great plan. I just knew that cooking during the week was overwhelming and stressful and I never seemed to have the time I needed to actually cook. I wanted to get some of it out of the way. But my brain was kind of mushy from lack of sleep. And my body was kind of sore from basketball. I was slow and fuzzy.

But I did end up making a huge batch of egg salad (48 eggs) and a quadruple batch of black bean salsa.

The Hubba wanted to take a walk. I should have known to wear athletic shoes. You cannot believe how fast the Hubba walks. He does not know how to stroll. But instead I put on my quick slip-on sandals (over socks!) just to be fast and easy about it. Big mistake. We ended up being out for more than an hour and walking close to two miles. But it was nice to talk face to face. Lately things have been so busy that I feel like all of our needful conversations take place over email.

When we got back, I decided to go shopping for some odds and ends. Wiyah and I had put two things in the grocery cart when we got a call form Baboo saying she was done with her choir performance and needed a ride home. So we left the grocery store and went and picked her up, took her home and went back to claim our two items in the cart that we left in the bread aisle.

After shopping, I got started making 4 quarts of yogurt right away. Then I decided to make some calzones. I looked up some recipes (I'll share it all with you after we taste them and determine it's worth sharing) and got to work. Everything was from scratch. In the middle of calzones and while I was covered with flour, I ran back and forth up and down the stairs several times bathing the 4 littlies.

I finished the 16 calzones just as the Patriots game was over. Then we hurried the littlies to bed and the rest of us got to work cleaning the house because, after all, we have a visiting family member arriving tomorrow and staying for a couple days.

Whew! Somewhere in there, the Hubba made dinner and we ate too. Crazy day. Oh yeah, I also cooked and diced the chicken I plan on using for dinner tomorrow too.

There was all this stuff I was going to say about today. But my feet and legs hurt and I'm sooooo sleepy and can't make my brain work hard enough to say all that I wanted to say. Maybe tomorrow.

I AM THE FAMILY HISTORY QUEEN

2012-01-14T10:40:00.001-07:00

This video is audio only so feel free to just let it play to put you in the mood as you read this post. Today, this is my theme song.

"When the walls come tumblin', tumblin'
When the walls come crumblin', crumblin'
And the walls come tumblin', tumblin'
DOWN"

Did you know you can get an endorphin rush from family history? Um, apparently you can!

A couple of days ago, my aunt posted this photo on facebook:

Love the fact that this one is signed!

We actually used to own a framed copy of this photo but when my mom's house burned down a decade ago, the photo was destroyed. I only lamented the loss later as I got more into family history and understood it's value. And the thought never actually crossed my mind that anyone else in the family would have a copy! D'oh! So I was thrilled when my aunt posted it. Thank goodness for facebook!

This is my granddad from when he was a Tuskegee Airman. His WWII military records indicate he was enlisted from 1942 to 1946. My aunt tells me that his time in the war was something he didn't talk much about and as a result, no one really knows that much.

As part of that facebook conversation, I asked my cousin if she had seen his Senior class picture? She had not. I was THRILLED that all my family history digging and research had led me to some gems that the rest of the family didn't have. I was even more thrilled that someone else besides me cared at all. So I posted this photo for her:

That's my grandfather on the top row, right hand side. He was 17. How cool is that? Then my cousin expressed interest in any other photos I might have so I gave her this one, too.

So all of that got me wondering if there was anything more. Something new to find. So I logged back into ancestry.com yesterday and started doing some searching. The first thing I noticed was that there were a ton of new hints for me. Most of them didn't pan out, but it gave me renewed hope that even though I hadn't personally worked on my family history, work was still being done. Records were being indexed and digitized while I wasn't looking. And hopefully some of those ancestors on the other side of the veil are doing some work and shaking things up for me so that I can find some info for them.

And I think that's just what happened.

This morning, I woke up early to take Baboo to school for an out of town, all day choir practice/performance. I came home and had about two hours to kill before I had to go pick up my first Bountiful Basket (another post, another day). I had only had about 2.5 hours of sleep and figured that if I actually fell back asleep, I would probably not wake up in time. So I decided I should just stay up and nap later. The whole house was asleep and I figured that was a good time to sit on the computer mindlessly doing searches on ancestry.

I wasn't really finding much of anything. It was discouraging. But at least I was passing the time. The sky was brightening. I was searching for my 4th great grandfather, Peyton Randals, when I stumbled across a civil war pension document for Peyton's son, Bailey Peyton Randals. It was such a little slip of paper with not much information on it at all. Basically the only thing on the paper was the name "Bailey P. Randals (alias) Peyton Greer." That document was filed in Tennessee where Bailey was born. I looked at the records I had for Bailey P. Randals. All the information I had for him was gleaned from 1870 censuses and beyond. I had no documents for him before 1870 (which isn't unusual for blacks).

I did some quick calculations and figured out that Bailey P. Randals would have been about 18 years old at the start of the Civil War. So it was possible that this could be him. I started searching for Peyton Greer. At first the search turned up not much of anything and I wasn't hopeful at all. But as I was scanning through tons of useless stuff, I finally turned up another Civil War document for Peyton Greer. He was the right age as my guy. Peyton Greer enlisted in Illinois and was a Quartermaster Sergeant for the U.S. Colored Troops 2nd LA Batty A Light Artillery Battery. He mustered out in Kentucky, 1866.

And then 4 years later in the 1870 census I pick up my Bailey P. Randals, married with two kids. The oldest is 2 years old. It seems to fit.

Unfortunately, that's absolutely ALL I can find. But I know that his parents' names were Peyton and Sarah. So what if instead of Peyton and Sarah Randals, they were Peyton and Sarah Greer? Searching again, I was able to locate one marriage document between a P. Greer and a Sarah Owen. There's no information on what race these people were. But the state is Tennessee and the year of the marriage works fairly well with the year of Bailey's birth. Bailey's death certificate lists his mother as Sarah Hunter, though. It could be them. But I can't say for sure. Definitely need more info.

Anyway, so often I feel like I hit a brick wall with my ancestors before 1870. There's just nothing. But this little chink in that brick wall is huge for me. I'm just chipping away slowly but surely. Today I've got a new name and more information than yesterday.

It's so awesome!

Geometry is my nemesis

2012-01-13T13:51:00.001-07:00

JJ's math assignment from yesterday stumped me. I take that as a personal affront and vow to never be in that position again. I hated that feeling. I missed the triumphant, I-AM-QUEEN-OF-THE-WORLD feeling when I conquer those math assignments.

It was geometry. We were given the length of three sides and one angle of an isosceles trapezoid and told to find the length of the fourth side. I had an idea of how to do it. I needed to divide up the trapezoid, use the pythagorean theorem, and then do some simple subtraction. But my brain was just mush and I couldn't figure it out. The other problem that stumped me was finding some measures of a NON-isosceles trapezoid. I was sure that there must be some simple formula to use but as I looked back through the explanatory sections of that section, all the examples and instructions were given for isosceles trapezoids. But the problem we were working on was not an isosceles.

Anyway, I had to send that boy to school not only with unfinished math homework, but also without understanding how to conquer those kinds of problems and it makes me mad!

Another thing giving me a run for my money is Wiyah's honor's chemistry class. She's struggling with naming compounds. It's pretty complex and even when I'm looking at the examples of how to name things I'm pretty lost. So far she's been able to squeak by with me helping her at least identify what she's looking at and then most of the time if I can help her name what we're doing, she can figure it out from there. But honestly, I don't remember ever having to learn how to name compounds when I was in IB Chemistry.

Thursday = Basketball Day

2012-01-12T22:53:00.001-07:00

So, Wiyah and I spent the evening helping out a friend of ours. She's one of my "ladies" who always help me with quilting/canning/sewing projects. She also happens to be one of my awesome visiting teachers who has served me in tremendous ways. So when she needed help serving food at her daughter's reception, we were glad of the chance to help out.

I felt so useless and clueless, though. Behind the scenes were the rest of my "ladies" and another friend and they all seemed to know exactly what needed to be done when and I really didn't understand. I basically just did whatever anybody told me to do and felt like an idiot. Maybe in ten years I will be more like the ladies. Still, it was nice to be back there chatting with them and listening to stories about planning weddings and receptions and how to go about it. One lady said that going through the temple with your missionary sons is much more satisfying than going through with a daughter about to get married. Because with the marrying daughter, she's all about the guy. But the missionary son is still all about his parents--especially his mom. I find comfort in this.

Meanwhile, the Hubba was at the high school. Baboo had auditioned for "[Her High School] Idol." But that's a post for another day after I upload the accompanying video...

I had to leave the reception early so that I could make it to the basketball game on time. Which I did. One of our players (my old running buddy) couldn't make it so there were just us three regulars plus one of the regular's daughter. Just 4 on our team. But that's ok because it was on the small court so we only play 3 on 3 or 4 on 4 anyway. But the other team had like 7 players--so lots of subs--and we had none.

I could tell that the pace of the game was MUCH faster. I was exhausted at the end of the first quarter and my chest was doing that wheezy thing because I'm so out of shape. Still, we had scored and kept them from scoring at all, so...

The second quarter was more of the same. They were running us ragged but we were still outscoring them. 16 to 0 at the half. I know 16 doesn't look like much. But there ya go.

They were able to score in the 3rd quarter but we kept our lead. And by the 4th quarter we had really pulled out ahead by quite a bit. I'm not exactly positive of the score because we were so far ahead that I wasn't looking at it closely while we were playing and after the game when I looked, they had already taken it down. But it was something like 46 to 8.

Usually when I play I count how many baskets I make. I do this because I like to see how I'm scoring in relationship to all points scored. Am I holding up my end of things for my team? Or is somebody else doing all my work? But this game was such a faster pace that I wasn't really able to keep up. I know for sure I scored 6. I lost track after that. It could have been 8 or 10. I would be surprised if it were 12. But there's no way it was 14. So less than a quarter of my team's points and there was only 4 of us.

It wasn't my best game. Not my worst either. But I wasn't all that pleased with how I played. It was just ok. There was one sweet move that I felt awesome about. And afterwards I remember running back on defense and my teammates high fiving me and knowing I had done well. But I can't really remember what it was that I had done now!

Anyway, it was still a lot of fun. We play again next week. Our point guard will be gone at youth conference because she's a YW leader so we'll be down one of our best players. And I'm pretty sure we'll be playing one of the teams that played just before us tonight. I saw the end of their game. One team has some really great players on it and I've played with them before. They'll be tough. The game I watched was intense and they were upset about ref calls and the ref finally had to tell both teams to stop talking to each other he was going to start calling technicals. TECHNICALS! In WOMEN's CHURCH basketball! Yeah, next week is going to brutal, I think.

Overheard

2012-01-11T18:36:00.000-07:00

An anonymous child was making dinner and we just seasoned some chicken breasts and put them in the oven.

Me: So you have until the chicken is done cooking to figure out what else we'll be eating and make it.
Child: Can we have just chicken for dinner? That would be easier.
Me: No.
Child: You don't think four breasts is enough to feed eight children? Because I know two already did.

The Kind of Girl Wiyah Is

2012-01-11T17:14:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday Wiyah was with me as I went cross-town to pick up my mom for our monthly grocery shopping trip. It was cold and snowy. There was a guy on the corner. I pointed him out. "What's he doing?" He was dancing all around on the street corner. There was a sign in front of him on the ground. Wiyah said he's probably standing there advertising something, trying to get our attention. He had danced so much that the snow around him for three feet had melted and you could see grass in a wide circle around his feet. While we were at the light, we watched him dance. Waiting to pull forward enough so we could see his sign. When the light turned green, we eagerly looked. Only to see that the sign had nothing at all to do with him. There just happened to be a sign there where this guy was dancing on the corner.

He was just dancing for the fun of it. Right there on the street corner. Before my brain could even respond to this new information, Wiyah said:

Mom, I just love people!

Then today we were driving home from running some errands. In our neighborhood there was a runner up ahead of us. We passed him and made a last stop at a neighbor's house before heading home. As we pulled back onto our street, the runner had caught up with us.

Mom, there he is again. He caught up to us. And he had that huge hill to go up. He's doing really good. I'm so proud!

We got out of the car just as he was arriving at our house. Wiyah yelled to him:

Wooooooooo!

And clapped.

Losing a tooth gains me a big girl

2012-01-11T09:49:00.001-07:00

Two nights ago Pinkleberry lost her firth tooth. It's been wiggly for about three months and it's about time. She was showing it to everyone how she could bend it forwards and backwards and even twist it in a circle in her mouth. She went to show Wiyah and forgot which way she was twisting. So instead of untwisting, she kept twisting. Pink started to panic and Wiyah was trying to walk her through how to untwist her tooth when POP! Out it came.

We who had been in another room could tell what happened by the way Pinkleberry was making a noise that was exactly half way between crying and laughing. When she came in the living room to show the rest of us, she was still making that sound while her mouth was smiling and her eyebrows were furrowed with concern. It was pretty hilarious.

After the shock wore off a few minutes later she was so excited! She kept just suddenly hugging me and I would say, "I'm so happy for you!" and she would say, "I'm so happy for me, too!" and give me a giant hug again. She went and got her own little ziploc baggie to put the tooth in and stuck it under her pillow right away, thrilled that the tooth fairy would be visiting her that night.

Now. People in this household have been sick of Pinkleberry sucking her thumb for more than a year now. They've been trying to get her stop since she was 4. But all of their encouragement, cajoling, bribing, and embarassing only served to make her even more determined to suck her thumb and I finally just told people to please leave the issue alone because it was making my life harder. For the most part they backed off, but still the damage was done and now Pinkleberry made sure to hide whenever she was sucking her thumb if her brothers were around.

I let it slide. I told her that Mack stopped sucking his thumb when he was five and in kindergarten and that would probably be a good time for her to stop, too. So as soon as she turned five, everyone else was on her case again about not sucking her thumb. But again, I was content to wait it out. Mack had stopped sucking his thumb (and rubbing my magic belly) on his own in kindergarten and I think it was just because he was so busy. So I was ok waiting through kindergarten for that transformation for Pink.

Only we're halfway through the year now and there's no real lessening of the thumb sucking happening. But trying to take away that type of self-soothing behavior is terribly daunting to me. I mean, UGH! Who wants to do all that work?? It's worse than weaning. So I was thinking that probably in the first grade when she was gone and busy all day, that would be when things would let up.

Still, I had told her that when she loses her top two front teeth she would need to stop sucking her thumb. She, and Wink to a lesser extent, have those teeth that didn't quite come in all the way because their thumb was constantly in their mouth. And in order for the adult teeth to form properly, the thumb would have to go. She said she understood and I still figured that sometime in first grade would be good enough.

Except that she was so excited about losing that first tooth! One of the things she said that evening was "Now I can't suck my thumb anymore!" And I just let her go with that, you know? I'm not a fool. This was the first time the idea was ever her idea and she had any enthusiasm about it. I wasn't about to say, "Actually, you can still suck your thumb for another year until the top teeth come out, honey.

We eventually tucked her in bed, but she couldn't sleep. I figured she was just keyed up about the lost tooth and the tooth fairy. But then I remembered she had had a long nap that day. So I let her stay up coloring in her bedroom. But she was still having trouble getting to sleep. Finally she told me it was because she couldn't suck her thumb.

I was exhausted and wanted that girl asleep! I ALMOST told her to go ahead and suck it. But instead I climbed into bed with her and empathized with how hard it was and told the story of how Baboo had stopped sucking her fingers at the same age. She told me how her thumb just wanted to go in her mouth and be wet. I told her that she was stronger than that thumb. I tried to sing to her, but the singing was what I usually do at bedtime while she sucks her thumb and rubs my magic belly so that just made things worse. Finally, I turned her away from me and put my arms around her and just held her hands.

Sometime later, I woke up and realized she was asleep still holding my hand. With no thumb ever having gone in her mouth! Yay! In the morning we made a very big deal about the tooth fairy who had remembered to come and about the fact that she had gone to sleep without sucking her thumb. I don't know if she had sucked it inadvertently during the night, but the big step had been taken.

Last night she asked me if I would do the same thing. So I did. She fell asleep faster without sucking her thumb. In the morning, her first question to me was "Did I go the whole night without sucking my thumb?" I told her that she had indeed fallen asleep without sucking her thumb but I didn't know about the whole night. She said that usually in the morning she had a "spiky" feeling in her thumb from sucking it. But she didn't have that feeling this morning. So she didn't think she sucked it during the night. Awesome.

Meanwhile, during the day she is consciously deciding against sucking her thumb. And because my magic belly works best with a thumb (apparently), I've been getting off the hook, too. (For a long while we've only been doing belly at bedtime anyway.) So we're on day 3 now. Wish us continued luck!

The Cheapest University

2012-01-10T18:35:00.001-07:00

We've been figuring out college stuff with Baboo.

So today Wiyah is not feeling well, I'm procrastinating dinner and hoping for the best. There's nothing really that I'm doing, just vegging. And so I googled something like "What can I do with my French degree." (Because I was thinking of how useless it was and wondering what I would do if a child of mine wanted to get a degree in something that would probably be more beneficial as a hobby than a career choice.)

BUT ANYWAY. I ended up after a few clicks on an article in Forbes that was talking about actually obtaining your degree in France. Do you know what I learned? France makes no distinction between "in-state" and "out-of-state" students. So someone from the US can go to France and get an education for the same cost as a Frenchman could. What makes this doubly awesome is that thanks to the French Revolution and equality for everyone, the university system in France is based on the idea that everyone, regardless of socioeconomic status should have access to education. Even higher education. So basically, at the undergraduate level, college is free. Well, technically the government heavily subsidizes higher education. But the cost out of pocket for your average undergraduate for a year's tuition is ...

I'm sorry. I need a drumroll or something. I can't just throw these figures out there without you taking a moment to think about it. So just take a second and think about how little tuition would be reasonable. What's the lowest figure you're thinking of. (In fact, for my amusement, go ahead and tell me what your guesses were in the comments section.)

Ok. Are you ready for the big reveal?

According to this article, the ANNUAL cost of tuition for undergrauates at French universities ranges between...

200 and 500 euros.

That's about $250 to $640.

CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT!?!?!? ANNUALLY!!! For heaven's sake!

I'm getting ready to send my daughter to France for college. And maybe the rest of the family will tag along, too. Maybe the Hubba and I can go back to school. Man!

Uncle!

2012-01-10T15:51:00.000-07:00

Today was a quiet day. And then I left to go pick up Mack from school. First of all I had to wake Wink up from a nap in order to leave. I guess that's ok because if she sleeps long during the day, she has late nights. But still, I just think there's something fundamentally wrong with waking a sleeping child. Just as I was greeting Mack in the playground and coaxing him to leave Zo and the swings, I got a call on my cell phone. It was Baboo wondering where I was.

Yesterday she auditioned for her "High School Idol" and today she found out that she made it! So they had an afterschool rehearsal from 3pm to 6pm today. I knew that. What we did not know was that it was a dress rehearsal and she needed to wear what she would wear for the performance. (How they expect that to happen when they didn't tell the kids until today at school, I do not know.) So Baboo had actually gotten a ride home while I was driving away from home. And that's how she ended up calling me while I was at Mack's school.

But it was already 3pm and she needed a ride back to the high school immediately. So I told her to start walking and I'd try to get home as fast as I could to give her a ride back to the very neighborhood I was just about to leave.

Thankfully, in the middle of all that, I got a text from Wiyah telling me that she was not going to need a ride home. Track pre-season is starting and they are having after school trainings/practices. She was going to stay for that and I was going to have to pick her up whenever she was done. But she decided to just come home and study Chemistry today instead.

So as soon as I got home with Mack and the little girls, Baboo came running out of the house and we turned right back around and went back. I wished that I could even let the little kids out of the car and go inside so they wouldn't have to do the trip all over again (and also so that I wouldn't have to worry about people needing to pee in the car). But nobody else was home and even I don't leave Mack and the little girls home alone ~~on purpose~~.

I did feel good that at least Wiyah beat Kelvinator home, because I thought he'd be home first. So right now things are alright. But at 6pm, Baboo will be done with the dress rehearsal and then I will have to go pick her up from her high school and take her to another high school where she is having a choir rehearsal. It will be a tight squeeze to get her there on time. And I'll have to take all the littlies with me again because the Hubba and the rest of the teens will be leaving for mutual activities at church before I'd get back. And then sometime in the evening again I'll have to repeat that in reverse and go pick her up.

*whimper*

Self-Righteousness

2012-01-10T05:50:00.003-07:00

I should not be up at 4:30 in the morning. Nevertheless, sometime ago I did wake up. And I couldn't go back to sleep. My mind was racing about a discussion the Hubba and I had the other day after church. Mentally, I was thinking about how I'd write it up as a blog post. And eventually I realized that I had already been up for a long time, wasn't drowsy in the least, and that sleep wasn't coming anywhere near me until I had actually blogged about it.

So here I am. Most of these thoughts were originally his. But since I can't get them out of my head and since he doesn't blog I have posting rights.

So often we identify with the righteous folk in the scriptures. When I read the Book of Mormon, I think of myself as Nephi and shake my head and "tsk tsk" when I read about the faithless antics of Laman and Lemuel. Or in the New Testament, you read about the Pharisees and Sadducees and the confusion that was sown among the people because of their pride and it makes me angry. I think of the wicked people as "they." The righteous people are "we." The classic example is in the reading of the parable of the Prodigal Son. I am always the good and faithful son.

But maybe there's a danger in always associating ourselves with the righteous. I think I'm basically a "good" person. Especially when I really take a look at what's happening in the world. There are some sick and crazy things going on. And when I look at my personal battles to overcome to sin and temptation, well, the things I'm working on just don't seem that bad by comparison.

I tend to see myself in terms like this:

I can congratulate myself on being pretty good and distance myself from all the naughty people out and about in the world. But if you change the perspective a bit, the reality is closer to this:

Except that that big, empty space is infinitely long. You can hardly tell that there's any difference between me and the most vile sinner among us. We have more in common with each other than we think. And everyone falls short of the glory of God. Being a "good" person isn't really enough to qualify for salvation in the Kingdom of our God. How about "holy" or "sanctified?"

As much as I'd like to think of myself as the faithful son who did all that his father required of him, the truth of the matter is that I am the prodigal son who has already squandered my inheritance on riotous living. It would do me well to remember that.

2 Nephi 9:51

Wherefore, do not spend money for that which is of no worth, nor your ^alabor for that which cannot ^bsatisfy. Hearken diligently unto me, and remember the words which I have spoken; and come unto the Holy One of Israel, and ^cfeast upon that which perisheth not, neither can be corrupted, and let your soul delight in fatness.

Luke 18:13

And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much ashis eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a ^asinner.

God be merciful to me, a sinner.

One Thing I've Learned

2012-01-09T19:16:00.002-07:00

I think it's going to take a whole lot more basketball to get me through this stressed-out, short-tempered, overwhelmed patch. I haven't felt like this in a long time. But there are many more instances of me yelling at my kids recently than in the last several months. The state of the house is bugging me. I feel like I can't get anything accomplished. I'm trying to hang in there until Thursday. I think I need daily basketball right now.

A new set of wheels

2012-01-09T17:04:00.002-07:00

This is what I have been thinking about a lot lately. How wonderful it would be if we had another car. We already have two and I should probably be satisfied since that's quite a luxury that some people make do without. Nevertheless, let me day dream.

A third car would mean that when I need to go run a quick errand or take one or two kids someplace, I wouldn't have to drive our behemoth megavan. It's kind of a hassle to lug that gas guzzling thing around all over town and try to park it when I just have to do a quick errand with Winkleberry. A third car would mean that our up and coming drivers could learn to drive on something reasonable, as opposed to learning how to drive in the afore-mentionted behemoth megavan. It would mean that some/many of these teens could get themselves places and even help out with getting younger kids to their places (for instance, the high school is very close to Mack's new elementary school, so the teens could give him a ride home).

This is interesting to me because this is how I spent my afternoon:
2:30 Leave to get Mack from school
2:45 Spend next 25 minutes maneuvering the megavan through a crazy school parkinglot
3:10 Exit parking lot and head home
3:30 Arrive home. Baboo immediately tells me that she needs to go back to the high school in the neighborhood from whence I just came for a talent audition at 4:15 and she'd like to get there early.
3:50 Leave to take Baboo to her audition. Because the big boys aren't home from school yet, we have to load up Pinkleberry, Winklebery and Mack and take them, too.
4:10 On the way back, get a phone call from Wiyah asking where I am because she needs to leave to ballet in ten minutes.
4:15 Arrive home.
4:25 Leave a few minutes late to take Wiyah to ballet.

Presumably, any minute now I should be getting a call from Baboo telling me she is done and needs a ride home. Because the Hubba loves me, he has offered to pick her up on his way home. But then one of us will still need to head out again later this evening to pick Wiyah up from ballet and bring her home.

I am not completely blind to the downside of having a third car, either, though. Let us explore the cons of this issue. First of all, we would have to, you know, purchase a vehicle. Major con. Even more a downside than the purchase of the vehicle would be the, you know, insurance costs for what looks to be two to three teen drivers at a time. Additionally, I'm pretty sure that if we had a third vehicle, I would never see my two daughters again. They are already so busy with their regular lives that if they suddenly could also attend every social outing/event that would be it for us.

Then there are little issues like parking. We only have a two car garage and the van doesn't even fit in the garage. Both cars are actually parked in the driveway. A third car would mean that one vehicle would have to be in the garage and that we'd be forever playing musical cars anytime someone wanted to leave.

Still, after driving days like today, I'll admit that my brain just starts percolating creatively trying to find ways to address all those cons and make them non-issues. Alas, as of right now. The cons are winning.

Overheard

2012-01-09T15:54:00.000-07:00

In the car on the way back from picking up Mack from school, Winkleberry needed to go potty. I was 20 minutes from home and the only thing to be done was to just tell her to hold it.

Winkleberry: I really need to go potty!
Mack: Did you hold your breath?
Wink: Yes.
Mack: Did you cross your legs? Cross your legs! You could always pee your pants...
Wink: Mack, that's inappropriate.

Day 4 of my 8 1/2 year driving commitment

2012-01-09T12:17:00.001-07:00

Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven!

Overheard

2012-01-09T12:11:00.001-07:00

Pinkleberry: Guess who I love?
Me: Me!
Pink: Hey, how did you know that?
Me: Because I love you, too!
Pink: That's just creepy.

Little Things

2012-01-08T22:09:00.000-07:00

* The way I don't have to think about dinner or be involved in any way when it's Wiyah's night to cook. Tonight we had chicken and rice with egg rolls and homemade donuts for dessert. And I didn't know anything about it until I came to the table to eat.

* When I was cooking dinner and called the family to the table having forgotten to ask the little boys to set it first. But when Wiyah and JJ came in, they just automatically started grabbing plates and forks and setting it.

* Family jokes. "It's Sunday!" I'll have to do a whole separate blog post on that someday. But you can hear shouts of "It's Sunday!" with lots of laughter pretty much every day around here.

* Talking to the Hubba.

* A well stocked pantry and a full refrigerator.

* The shape of the Hubba's legs.

Going to College

2012-01-08T20:52:00.000-07:00

We were sitting down with Baboo tonight, going over the schools she's applying to and how much tuition will cost and what room and board is. I have to admit that that part of it was kind of depressing. On the other hand, thinking about the possibilities is exciting.

We looked back at tuition for University of Arizona, which is where I went and where Baboo was considering applying. WAS considering applying because out of state tuition is $12K/semester. Sheesh. I can't believe I went to a school that costs that much. She was also toying with the idea of Northern Arizona University, but even with the Western Undergraduate Exchange (which is like an exchange program for western states that makes out of state tuition not so unbearable), it was still going to cost almost twice as much as the in-state schools here.

Anyway, all the options just got me thinking. When it was time for me to apply for colleges, I wasn't very creative. I didn't want to go to NAU because it seemed small to me. I didn't want to go to ASU because that seemed like a party school. You don't go to ASU for a serious education. So University of Arizona was really the only college on my radar. It was the only one I applied to.

I'm glad I went there, not the least of which is because I met and married the Hubba there. But I wish I had applied to more schools. I wish I had dreamed big just to see, you know? Could I have gotten in somewhere else? Might I have gotten a scholarship somewhere else? I'll never know.

Also, just FYI, it's really cheap to attend BYU-Hawaii. It costs about the same to attend BYU-H as it does BYU in Provo. Even the cost for room and board is comparable. The Hubba and I are thinking of going back to school there and enrolling all of our children, too.

Living What We Believe: Exactness

2012-01-08T13:30:00.001-07:00

I loved our Relief Society lesson today. I can't recreate the entire lesson that just made me want get up out of my seat and shout Amen! So I'll just highlight the things that stood out and made an impact on me.

The teacher talked used an analogy of fitting a square peg into a round hole. It doesn't fit. We peculiar members of the church make covenants and keep commandments and have a fullness of the gospel that the rest of the world does not have and will not tolerate. We are square. And because of that, we cannot fit into what the world's ideal is.

Then the instructor referenced something our stake president talked about a few months ago at Stake Conference where he talked about our own personal tools of rebellion. These are the things that we don't want to give up because, well, we kind of like them. For instance, that song that has the wonderful beat and the beautiful melody that we listen to over and over again even if there is a bad word or two in there. Or the funny TV show that we keep watching even though many of the themes are inappropriate. Or the little addictions that we don't fight because they aren't mentioned specifically in scripture. Or the friend or neighbor we won't forgive because we were right, after all.

Those are all our personal tools of rebellion. The things that we are not willing to give up in order to know God better. We express our rebellion not necessarily in out and out, obvious ways that everyone can see. Nevertheless, our refusal to conform to gospel standards limits the blessings we could otherwise be entitled to.

And essentially, every time we change ourselves to conform to the world's standards, every time we do not hold firm to the commandments of God and the counsels of the prophet, we are erasing a little of what makes us a peculiar people. We are changing ourselves so that we no longer conform to the Lord's standards, but that we might more perfectly be in harmony with what the world expects.

As the instructor was talking, she kept moving her arm in an outline of the square she had drawn on the board and talking about how we need to keep the commandments of God with "exactness". She must have used the word "exactness" about 20 times while she made that motion with her hand. And I began to really understand the importance of following the word of the Lord with exactness. There are not cutting corners in the Kingdom of God and, indeed, my covenants preclude me from cutting corners if I would be faithful.

It was very powerful for me.

Below are some of my favorite quotes from the lesson.

"We cannot live like the world and expect to obtain our rightful place in the Kingdom. The Lord tells us in the first section of the Doctrine and Covenants, referring to evil: that he cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance [see D&C 1:31]. This is hard medicine, because some of us in the Church have the idea that we can trifle with the Gospel of our Lord and with fundamentals of Eternal Life, and yet gain the place we want. This is not true. The Lord will be merciful, but he will be just, and if we want any blessing there is only one way we may obtain it, and that is to keep the commandments that will entitle us to the blessing.^12"

"One man had resided here for twenty years, a man whose life is above reproach, a good citizen, a splendid business man, one who has kindly feelings towards our people. He told me that he had lived here twenty years, and he had come to the conclusion that we were just as good as our neighbors who are members of other churches; he could not see any difference in us.I want to say to you, my brethren and sisters, that is no compliment to me. If the gospel of Jesus Christ does not make me a better man, then I have not developed as I should, and if our neighbors not in this Church can live among us from year to year and see no evidence of the benefits that come from keeping the commandments of God in our lives, then there is need for reform in Israel. …"

“Therefore, whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock:

“And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not; for it was founded upon a rock.

“And everyone that heareth these sayings of mine and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand:

“And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it.” [Matthew 7:24–27.]

How many of us, learning the will of the Father, are doing it? How many of us day by day are laying a foundation and building a structure that shall conform to the dignity of the stature of our Master? ... We will not be judged as our brothers and sisters of the world are judged, but according to the greater opportunities placed in our keeping. We will be among those who have received the word of the Lord, who have heard His sayings, and if we do them it will be to us eternal life, but if we fail condemnation will result.⁹

Let us do better than we have ever done before. Let us renew our determination to be real Latter-day Saints, and not just make-believe. … I do not know anybody who can not do a little better than he has been doing, if he makes up his mind.¹⁰

“And Jesus answered and spake unto them again by parables, and said,“The kingdom of heaven is like unto a certain king, which made a marriage for his son,“And sent forth his servants to call them that were bidden to the wedding. …“And when the king came in to see the guests, he saw there a man which had not on a wedding garment:“And he saith unto him, Friend, how camest thou in hither, not having a wedding garment? And he was speechless.“Then saith the king to the servants, Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.“For many are called, but few are chosen.” [See Matthew 22:1–3, 11–14.] …

Here was a man who came into the wedding feast, and when the time came the king or the master saw that he didn’t have a wedding garment on. He had ignored the importance of it, apparently. He had come in, not prepared, expecting to participate. He had come to the feast—they had all been bidden to the feast, but I assume that they were supposed to know that only those would be admitted who were properly clothed, and this man was amazed when the question was asked him why he was there in that condition.

The world seems to think that they can come whenever they are ready. Our Father’s children do not understand that there is some preparation to be made. The adversary has so deceived them as to make them believe that no preparation is necessary, anything will do, but in this message that the Savior gave in a parable to his associates we are informed that there must be some preparation, and without that preparation no one will be permitted to partake of the more precious gifts of our Heavenly Father. That applies to the membership of this Church who have an idea that because they have been invited, and because their names appear upon the record among those who have been called, there is nothing more for them to do. … They have forgotten the Lord and are not preparing for the feast to which he has invited them.
In the midst of the unsettled condition, the uncertainty that is in the world, if there ever was a time when we should examine ourselves, to find out if we are doing what the Lord would have us do, it is today; if there ever was a time when we should be sure that we are in the pathway of eternal life, it is now. We can’t slight these opportunities. God will not be mocked. When he has offered to us a gift, when he has placed within our reach a blessing, when he has invited us to partake of a feast and we ignore it, we may be sure that we shall suffer the distress that will come to those who refuse the blessings of the Lord when they are offered.¹¹

The Sunday School lesson was pretty good, if I do say so myself. We studied the first 7 chapters in the Book of Mormon. There was so much good stuff I wanted to get to, but essentially the entire lesson was taken up with a study of the very first verse, 1 Nephi 1, and a discussion of what the Lord's purposes could be in having Nephi and his brothers go back to Jerusalem two separate times when it would be so much more efficient if the Lord had given them enough warning before they left the first time. I learned a lot by the comments and discussion anyway, though.

2012-01-03T14:15:00.001-07:00

I have started a couple of posts that I have not finished for one reason or another. They are all about how incredibly blessed I feel right now. What I feel like saying is that every single little prayer, our smallest desires have all been granted. From my tooth finally feeling pretty normal (no pain medication in days!) to Mack's best friend switching schools with him (it's official, they both start together tomorrow!). I just feel like everything is going our way right now.

It's not really true. Because if I think hard, I can remember the disappointments and wishing particular situations had turned out differently. They have been there. But what I FEEL is that we have been sustained by the hand of the Lord and that basically my life is blissful and full of joy and I would be hard pressed to complain about much of anything at all.

A few months ago, the Hubba's business partner died. He left behind his widow and five kids. I saw his wife a few weeks ago and to me, it looked like she was handling everything miraculously well. I can't paint the picture with words well enough for you to see. But she spoke of Christmas without him and some of the helpful and hurtful things people had said or done or not done.

Also, just before Christmas, I found out that the wife of some friends of ours from when the Hubba was in law school recently died from cancer. We weren't very close but I have on video where she came over after X was born to congratulate us, bring a gift and see the baby. Her second daughter was Wiyah's age and they were cute friends.

Today I got a Christmas card from some friends of ours from our undergraduate days. This past year has been hard for them because their son had some serious health problems and they didn't know if he would survive, and if he did survive, what state of living that might be. Fortunately, their son is in the midst of making a miraculous recovery and they hope for a full recovery, but as she says "time will tell." Meanwhile, even in the midst of the miracle, it was a difficult year for them.

And again, I feel this sense of complete well-being for myself and for my family. These stories don't make me feel like the other shoe is about to drop. They don't make me feel any impending doom for our own good fortune. But when I say, "What if this is as good as it gets?" I know that every day I have, every moment of peace and happiness, time with my good husband and my children, opportunities to follow my dreams, our health... Well, all that is fleeting.

I suppose the opposite way of thinking of it is "Things could always be worse." But that sounds so awful. I feel like rejoicing in the fact that today life is full of good things and I accept it and love it and am so relieved. And if in the future there are dark days and trying times, I feel like I will be stronger for them. That my recognition of the happiness of this day will be a soothing balm that I'm storing up against times of trial and discouragement. I know today that the Lord is merciful and has done great things for me and that I will be able to remember that when times of worry and despair come and I need the reminding. Also, I hope that my recognition of the Lord in our triumphs and joys and how I recognize such little and tender mercies is not because times are good right now, but that I may find that even during the dark times I have become the kind of person that can see his love and tender mercies then, too. That even in the midst of trials and tribulations I would still have the attitude of "what if this is as good as it gets?" That I would seek out and find those miracles and joys to be had in whatever that hard situation is, too.

And maybe I already am a little bit of that person. Maybe that's why although I know that we are currently in the midst of some pretty weighty difficulties, it doesn't feel like it. I just feel content.

The Price of Peanut Butter

2012-01-03T13:56:00.002-07:00

Our ward preparedness person is awesome. Seriously. She tells us when stores are having sales and what items are good to stock up on. She shares messages about utilities and how to store documents so they're ready when needed. She gives canning advice. She reminds us of things to put in our 72 hour kits. She tells us when we have a canning assignment and then her whole family is there to help out those others of us who might need it. She does one of these sorts of things on almost a weekly basis.

Late last spring she told us that the price of peanutbutter was about to go up and so stocking up now would be a good idea. I wasn't in a position late last spring to stock up on peanutbutter. Nor were we able to for several months. I watched those first few months and did see the price of peanut butter start to go up a little bit. And eventually I forgot all about the peanut butter.

Until yesterday when I went out grocery shopping. We were at the tail end of one jar and only had one little jar left in storage. I went down the peanut butter aisle looking for a good buy. It was not to be had! The price of peanut butter was ridiculous! I typically prefer to buy smaller jars because they are easier (especially for littlies) to access without making a huge mess. But those small jars were almost triple what I like to spend. I cruised further down the aisle looking for the huge family size jugs of peanut butter and those were also more than double what I paid the last time I bought peanut butter back in June or whatever it was.

2011-12-18T22:17:00.000-07:00

This evening, we were having a family council. The topic was teasing, which is a pretty big problem in our family currently. We were discussing what constitutes teasing, whether or not there's any kind of good teasing, how to get people to remember to stop teasing.

While we were all sitting in the living room talking, Winkleberry fell asleep on the couch between me and Kelvinator and Mack and Pinkleberry built a fort around the coffee table.

The Hubba proposed a course of action that some of the big kids didn't feel completely comfortable with. As they discussed it further, the Hubba emphasized that this was something he felt very strongly about. And all of the big kids, each in their own words, expressed the sentiment that if Dad felt that strongly about it that they would defer to him and sustain him because he was the patriarch and priesthood leader of the family. The Hubba did not say, "Ok, then, we'll do it my way," at that point. He was dissatisfied and continued the council and we discussed things further and read from "For The Strength of Youth" (by the way, there's a new version out now) about strengthening families and the language we use. It wasn't too long after that that we came to a conclusion of how to handle the problem that everyone was comfortable with.

I think that the humility and respect that my teenagers showed their father and the patience and respect that he showed them were key factors in the workings of the Spirit that allowed us to achieve unanimity of purpose and action.

The Hubba said, "Well, thanks for humoring me." And immediately all the children burst out with their own version of the same joke. "You were just teasing us, Dad?" Or "You're not supposed to tease, Dad!" Or "Wait, was this whole thing a joke?"

When that was settled, we had a family prayer like we always do in the evenings. And just like every other evening in December, we turned off all the lights except those on the Christmas tree and sang Christmas carols. (In the past, we've always started with youngest to oldest and everyone picks a favorite song. But honestly, that's starting to get pretty unwieldy, so lately it's been the little 4 and the big 4. Tonight the little 4 picked.)

Then everyone just lingered in the living room talking and laughing. We started sharing our favorite Christmas memories. The big girls shared a memory of a small Christmas we had where we spent time delivering cookies and Christmas caroling. JJ shared a Christmas memory that was all about placement of the Christmas tree. I think I mentioned this before that it was just last year that I found out my kids had their own little Christmas Eve tradition? They all sleep together on Christmas Eve and Baboo tells scary stories. So the kids were sharing some of these scary stories with us. I just think it's hilarious. This is how you mess kids up! JJ retold one that totally freaked him out about a guy lurking in his closet. And someone else was retelling the story when the mountains to the east of us were volcanoes that were erupting and the Hubba and I were in Hawaii. So the kids all ran out of the house, but no one grabbed Winkie-pie. Merry Christmas, I guess... Oh my gosh, it just makes me laugh!

As we talked, Kelvinator finally learned the truth about Christmas when Dad let it slip that he was only faking being asleep in the mornings. One of our traditions is that hte kids have to come in and jump on him and pull him and push him to get him out of bed. When Kelvinator heard that the Hubba was faking it all the time he said, "WHAT?" And was just so shocked. I continued laughing.

Still no one left our cozy little living room. Everyone stayed mostly all squished together on couches. We ended up talking about this Christmas day and how we were going to do our present opening. We debated back and forth on whether to open presents before or after church. I was leaning towards after church, but was really fine with whatever everyone else chose. When we voted, the four big kids all voted to wait until after church. That just pleased me, you know? That they wanted to wait. It was just satisfying that they wanted to. (That vote won, present time will be sometime after church around 2:30.)

And still no one left. We started talking about what would be on the menu Christmas morning or what we were doing for Christmas dinner. Finally, our little family was starting to show signs of fatigue though after almost 3 hours together. And the children were sent to bed, the discussion about Christmas day food to be continued for Family Home Evening tomorrow.

Little Things

2011-12-18T19:45:00.000-07:00

* Being able to get a blessing from the Hubba.

* This facebook exchange on Baboo's wall.
Wiyah: Holy cow. why do I like you so much. by the way I have been waiting 15 minutes for you to come back up stairs, but I think you bailed. whatever. so, can we have a play date sometime when you are done singing? thanks. ♥ your favorite BIG sister.
Baboo: BEST BIG SISTER EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Hope you're having fun tonight:) love you!

* Winkleberry telling me I'm "boofull."

If I had my way, Sunday School would be twice as long

Wiyah: There's only three people for sure coming to my birthday party. Maybe five.
JJ: You need to invite some boys. [she only gave invitations to girls]
Wiyah: JJ, will you come to my birthday party?
JJ: When I have my birthday party, I'm definitely inviting plenty of girls.
Wiyah: I don't know what boys are.
JJ: I know that girls have cooties and boys don't.
Wiyah: The other day I told Kelvinator he had a cootie on his forehead and he freaked out.