What the monkey?

To the tune of "Matchmaker, matchmaker."

2009-04-01T10:15:00.000-07:00

Get your Relief Society President Yentl on and sing with me.

Food order

Get me some food!

Hurry it up!

Don't be a prude!

Why must I tell you what we want to eat?

Give me it all!

Don't make me repeat!

Food order, food order

President dear...

Can you pick it up for me?

And deliver it here?

I won't be home

so the key will be there.

Let yourself in.

Put the food anywhere.....as long as it's in my pantry, fridge and freeeeeeezer!

I suspect I'm losing my pleasing disposition.

0_0

Yeah - I had 4 cookies after dinner last night.

2009-03-16T03:45:00.000-07:00

I was talking to my mom on Friday about aspects of this churchy job that, frankly, I'm pretty sure no one would believe to be true. Mom and I mused that I should write a book about all of the insanity, but I'm reasonably sure an editor would tell me it is too far-fetched and s/he/it would ask me to add in a few winged beings, a wand or two, and try to classify my great autobiography as Fantasy.

I thought housing 5 kids while a gun-wielding father was hunting them down was out there. I thought consoling an active LDS, upstanding, trained athlete - along with her kids - hours after her husband was hauled off to the federal pen (and learning they'd been on the lam for nearly a year) was wild. There have been trips to unwed, teen girls who were going to give birth and dealing with the ward-wide-baby-shower insanity afterward, and a veeeeeery terse bishop. At one time, we've had 3 folks dealing with cancer treatments in our ward all while dealing with another half dozen or so who are un-or-underemployed.

There's been the drama of not one, but TWO different mothers who at 20-or-so weeks preggers - and with a houseful of other kids - have been on bedrest and want some Relief Society help. OH! Speaking of houses full of kids, there's the clearly insane mother of five who just went out and married a man 15 years her junior. They met in a gym and had only known one another for a WEEK. The nuptials initiated her throwing her 70-year-old mother (who was our last RS President) out on the literal street. Yup - she packed her mother's things in storage and for a time, would not tell her where the unit was. (Mind you - the mother had moved in at the daughter's request year's ago and has given all of her money to the raising of the 5 children while the mother has never had regular employment.)

We've had late night moves and cries for casseroles. We've had not one, not two, but 3 illegal alien families all looking for assistance from the church....while our Elder's Quorum President works as an immigration attorney deporting the bad guys. (He's not technically a reporting agent, but he cannot have any contact with illegals. Needless to say, we cannot tell HIM what is going on, and frankly, none of us wants to know, either.)

There's the mother telling me her husband won't LET her use church welfare - or any welfare - but they are starving. There's the mother telling me her son tried to kill them all recently, but he's getting married soon and she doesn't want to wreck the nuptials by having him Bakker acted. Of course, the mother is not invited to the nuptials because she lost her ever-loving mind and went nutters on him. Let's see....oh...same son pretends he passes the bar to members of the ward, but meanwhile, he still hasn't and went ballistic on his boss to keep his job after flunk numbers 5 and 6...and since the boss is a member of the church, he wants some sort of "action" taken on the man should he finally be let go.

You get the picture. This calling is INSANE! And, methinks, so are many members of my ward.

I remember being unimpressed by a President in the past who would leave me snarky messages after 1.0 was born. She would say, "If you do not call me back soon and tell me how you are, I canNOT help you!"

Mind you - I wasn't asking for help. And during this time, we had no cell phone and I pretty much lived at the hospital for 7 weeks.

I remember being unimpressed by a RS Presidency who, when making a quilt of all the sisters in the ward, had not included me...and when they asked us to mention if we didn't see our names on the quilt (and I got up the nerve to say something)...I was asked, "Ok - who are you?"

I'd only been in the ward about 9 months. Serving faithfully in Primary.

I remember having lackluster thoughts about a Presidency that put on the most awful Enrichment meetings I have ever been to in my life. Seriously - these were baaaad folks. I wondered why only 5 or so of us went my first venture out...then I got it.

You know what. I would like to formally repent. Those women were ROCK STARS! Kudos to them for what they managed to do! Blessings on their heads!

Last week, I had 2 sisters in the hospital and I never made it. My kid got a fever and I couldn't get there. I explained it to them both - but one had that, "Oh yeah - really - don't bother" kind of look in her eyes about my apologies. And I thought to myself, "Giiiiiiiiirl - I get that! I get that you think I'm a loser. But last week, I spent an hour on the phone trying to convince an illegal that Venezuela isn't all bad and really, the church can't aid and abet illegals...you know...without ME going to jail." But I couldn't very well say that, eh? So I smiled and apologized and nodded and listened and let her pass some judgement.

It used to be the judgement bothered me. But someday - when they see my (names-changed-to-protect-the guilty) accounting of all of this on the Barnes and Noble bestseller's rack, they'll get over it.

Right?

I hear people say, "Just quit! Tell them you can't do this anymore."

Uh, those people are never Mormon.

Saying that is like telling a conservative Jew to not circumcise his son. Or like telling Siegfried and Roy to not wear glittery costumes.

So, my little Presidency marches on. We've got an (unapproved by the Stake President and our Bishopric) book club coming up and we just gave out cupcakes on Fast Sunday. I don't know what else it will take for us to get the axe. While these things seem like they should be alarming to our Bishop, perhaps they aren't..seeing as it is being compared in alarming status to the man and woman who are in the ward, unemployed, with cancer, and who are pretending to be married and active members...and who, apparently, aren't.

Oh - no more time for venting. Even as I type, I'm now receiving, what appears to be, an email campaign-flooding-of-my-inbox with complaints that I'm asking them to sign up on lds.org so our Presidency emails are generated in the proper site and done correctly.

I know this church is true.

0_0

Microwave, microwave...

2009-03-09T18:38:00.000-07:00

…wherefore art thou microwave?

These are troubled times, my friends. There’s a recession, we’re all grumpy from the Daylight Savings Time switch, and the fashions this season continue to be blah, gray, and paper-sack-esque. Dark times have befallen all of us.

But my times are darkest of all. However bad off you are, I’m WORSE. You might not have known how hard things are here…I’ve tried to keep a stiff upper lip. I’ve done my dang darnedest to rise above my own challenges and dramas and continue to be a good listener and friend to all. But know this now…I’m in a bad, ugly place.

Woe is me. Woe is all the heck over me.

“Why?” you might ask, filled with shock and awe.

I’ll tell you why.

Since January, I, Mama T. Mormon - wife to one, mother to three, friend to many - have been utterly and completely MICROWAVE-FREE. No nuking is going on here. No quickie baked potatoes as a snack. I cannot look in the small, opaque, double-paned-for-my-safety window and ask, “What do I see?” There is no microwave-popcorn popping for me.

I’ve tried to man up on this one. I’ve been all, “Ohhh - let’s see how much we can save not using microwaveable veggies for dinner!” I’ve learned how to use all my stove’s burners at once.

People - I’ve popped the Hungry Man meal in the TOASTER OVEN. And have I whined? Complained? Cursed the microwave gods?

Oh no - I haven’t.

Until now.

I spent weeks and weeks waiting while my (dear, sweet, mildly detail-obsessive) husband went to his Hunter Man place - aiming to bring me home the very best microwave at the very cheapest price. Of course, the best ones weren’t in stock at ANY store in East Mormonville.

Nor were they readily available on-line.

But we persevered. And finally, one was delivered. For a fee, of course.

Then, our installer’s father had a heart attack, so we had to wait a full-on week until he could make it to us. The nice part of that was that we were able to use the box the appliance was in as a sort of console table in the front hall to collect things. Polly Pockets enjoyed playing there a great deal. I believe I dusted it only once.

Finally, our installer friend was able to steal away from the ICU unit long enough to help us. I only had to rearrange 3 or 4 things for that to be do-able. And it all was going swimmingly - except that the microwave was way too small for the hole over the stove. At least we only had to pay the delivery charge. And the shipping and stuff. Maybe a fee to dump the old micro. But that’s all. Not too much.

We were back to the proverbial 50% power button - only to find out - basically, we needed to upgrade our expectations. No cheapie micro was going to fit in that behemoth space.

So we special ordered. And waited, and waited. And paid the bill in advance. And waited.

Today - allegedly, there is a microwave in for us. But no one can seem to find it at the store.

So hear I sit. No microwave. A lot of money gone, and no microwave.

It’s March folks. The last time I nuked something was back in JAN-U-ARY! If I don’t get to radiate some product soon, I’m going to lose it. And not in a cute George-W-when-he-got-tongue-tied-giving-a-speech kind of “lose it” fashion. We’re talking I’m going to go full on insane if I cannot heat up a Hot Pocket stat.

You think you’ve got problems? You don’t know from problems. You want to see a hard life? Come live here. Know hardness.

Winner Winner.....

2009-02-18T13:50:00.000-08:00

CHICKEN DINNER!!!!! Our recipient of the...

MARKSMOMM!

WOOT WOOT!

MM - here is my post to you professing my undying love and devotion.

You are a dinky, scary, frozen-tundra loving liberal, but you like half decent music, so you can pass in my world.

There ya have it! My undying love and devotion has been professed!

In my opinion, your tunes would have been JUST RIGHT for the Valentine's Skate, but the 43-year-old-curly-permed-mullet-wearing-baby-boomer-pretend-hippy-DJ said he couldn't play it because it lacked A. anything by Eminem and B. anything from an animated movie. But know this, I still think it rocked.

CONGRATULATIONS!!! (Go ahead and print that certificate out for yourself, MM, and fill it in.)

Rejected Superbowl Ad

2009-02-13T12:28:00.000-08:00

Tell me what you think.

How much do you like cows?

2009-02-11T11:51:00.001-08:00

Do you like them enough to drink their milk?

Do you like them enough to not eat them?

Do you like them enough to visit them at the petting zoo?

Do you like them enough to drink their tinkle?

Why did it suddenly get so quiet?

Some folks in India are proposing slurping on a bovine brew of cow urine as an alternative to cola drinks.

Sacred cow or not, I just can't embrace that one. It's just too mooch, I mean, much.

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/food_and_drink/article5707554.ece

Riddle me this?

2009-02-10T15:00:00.000-08:00

Why are we all so dang mad about that California mother getting herself inseminated and having a litter of kids?

Sure - she'll be using the welfare system to help raise them. But tons of other folks use government dollars to raise their children and, already on assistance, get preggers with more youngins. So, why are we so ticked at her?

And yes, her parents have helped her raise the kids. But come on - we all have a friend/ne'er do well cousin/neighbor who is raising/supporting/housing an adult child and their children. Do we get in a tizzy over them?

Is it the size of the girl's family that sets us off? I don't think so - because we all know big, poor, Catholic families that we love. Who doesn't love John and Kate Plus 8? We swoon for the Jolies. We love big Mormon families a little less than big Catholic families and John and Kate...and large families of Pentecostals (the Duggars) even less than that. I've noticed a general American pattern in that we don't mind a hefty, poor family as long as you are mainstream-religious, highly tattooed, or a celebrity. Is that why we don't like this big family - because they don't fall into an acceptable "camp"? If she had a pack of nannies trailing behind her and got her children from overseas, would we be more agreeable about it all?

I listened to a friend today go on and on about how these children would grow up disadvantaged being raised in a home with only a mother and with so many cumulative children vying for her limited resources. She doubted the babies would receive adequate individual attention. Of course, my friend works full-time because she goes nuts being around her own brood all day and she is all for gay marriage and single women being inseminated because she says it's a woman's right to choose if she wants to have children and how they will be raised. So, is it fair for her to not give this CA mother the same regard? Isn't it her body and her family to raise as she sees fit - just the same as Tom and Frank down the street?

It might sound, from my post, like I think it's just dandy to have 14 kids under the age of 8 with no real, substantive education, no father in the home, and no earned wage coming in. But the truth is, I don't. I just can't quite put my finger on exactly why it is so wrong to me. The entire situation smacks of abuse somehow, but when I dissect it, I find myself saying, "Yeah - it's wrong for her to have 14 kids, but it's noble when others adopt that many." I make myself sick saying, "If she had more means, I'd be fine with this" as so many people wouldn't exist on the planet if their parents had waited to have enough money to raise them before they conceived. Money is not equal to love. I can't quite figure out why it angers me - and most of the American public - to the degree that it does, but boy, the story sure does rile us all up.

Maybe it's because I take motherhood so seriously and I don't know that she does - and I sanctimoniously sit in judgement of her? Maybe I'm a bit jealous - I always wanted a big family and it turns out, I have a little one. I would love to sneak a couple of those babies into my home. Is that why my ire gets up over this? Or is it that I feel my good nature and desire for all to have the help they need to raise their family being abused as I see a deliberate abuse of the welfare system? I'm definitely incensed that there is not a regulation about how many embryos can be implanted in a womb, but we regulate how many CCs of saline can be pumped into a woman's chest. Did you know you have to leave the country if you want really huge ta-tas? But you can have, quite literally, a litter of babies put in your gut no questions asked. And speaking of plastic surgery - I am lead to think....maybe I'm just ticked that CA mother has had so much cosmetic surgery and I am easily more deserving. Has anyone else noticed her face has had substantial work?

I suspect it's a culmination of all of those thoughts of mine that have me ticked off that this is allowed to happen. I wish I could go scoop up all the octuplets and place them for adoption to mothers and fathers desperate to have just one child to adore.

While I can't put my finger on exactly what has me so riled up, I do know this - there are 14 children who need a lot of love and attention in California and I hope they will be blessed...in spite of their mother's choices. Heaven help them all...

When the dog poops in your pocketbook..

2009-02-04T10:31:00.000-08:00

...it's time to call it a day.

At least, that is what I've always thought. But - live and learn! - you can begin your morning with a dog relieving itself in your handbag (and you being unable to clean it out and having to carry bits of said poop around with you for the next 12 hours as life was too busy to head home/to a store for a new purse) and have it end up being a lovely day!

Note to self: Don't call the day a goner over some misplaced feces. Maybe just write off that hour, instead.

I took the dogs to the vet yesterday morning before heading in to set up for Enrichment Night. And wouldn't ya know our little dog got nervous and shared those nerves with me in my purse while I was driving. Of course, I didn't realize what had happened until I was back in the car, having delivered the pooches to the vet, and now running late, was unable to pull over.

Note to self: Thank Mr. Mormon for getting me a sunroof in the car. It really helped air the car out while I drove around. I was freezing with the windows down and might have permanently damaged my nostrils from being stuck in the car with that smell for a long period of time. An open sunroof was the perfect middle ground.

The day had other wonkiness to it, as well. But really, that little event was the proverbial wonky icing on the wonky cake that is my life. What else could I tell you that was bizarre about yesterday that is going to grab your attention like dog doo? The rest will pale in comparison, so I'll keep it to myself.

Blissfully, the day ended with lots of friends and learning and enjoying myself thoroughly. It was wonderful! Whodda thunk?

Note to self: When the animals die, remain pet-free for the preservation of my remaining sanity.

In case the flu wasn't bad enough...

2009-01-30T16:49:00.000-08:00

...ALL of us have the flu.

Excepting 2.0. She's happy and perky and only struggling with some asthma - but no flu like the rest of us. And it's good for us that she doesn't have the flu seeing as we all stayed home today to puke and re-group and 2.0 was the family nursemaid. The child did a fabulous job, I must say.

The flu is a mean, mean thing. Sure, it makes you fierce sick. And it makes you take sick time from a job where you haven't accumulated any, yet. Additionally, apparently, the flu makes you gain weight. You read that right. Yesterday, I weighed myself and weighed a svelte number of pounds. This morning, after a night of puking and only having eaten a tiny lunch yesterday, I weighed two pounds more - which is no longer svelte.

WHAT THE MONKEY?

I'm blowing chunks like a wrestler trying to make weight and I GAINED two pounds? Where is the justice?

Speaking of unjust things - Mr. Mormon used today and our inability to do much other than lay on the sofa to watch some shows with the children. They are currently in love with the 1980s cartoon Dungeons and Dragons. You know, I've endured House, Heros, and even Battlestar Galactica. And now the man expects me to endure DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS? He continues to add insult to my injury...they are working on memorizing the opening together!

And I think I'm going to work on ordering Season One of The Smurfs. That won't take the 2 pounds back off, but it should teach him to quit trying to geeky-80s-ify the children!

A little friendly VD competition

2009-01-29T08:34:00.001-08:00

Not THAT kind of VD.

Sheesh

Valentine's Day is pretty long to type. Does no one else write, "Happy VD!" in their Valentine's cards?

Anyhooo...

Let's have a fun competition. The day of loooooove is fast upon us and what says love like - you know - words? But particularly, what says love like words in SONGS! So, get your love on and try to wow us all with great VD-worthy songs on your blog's playlist.

If you want to play along, I will visit your blog and determine who has the BEST VD playlist. Anyone is welcome to enter, but I will be the sole arbiter of good taste on this one, and will decide who has won. Feel free to campaign for your blog's playlist, though. Gifts of cash are always welcome. Contestants will be judged on their originality, set order, danceability, and the overall enjoyment of yours truly.

The winner will receive a lovey, syrupy post accolading their fine taste in tunes and my undying devotion. Additionally, if your tunes are good enough, I might be so inclined to submit it to my neighborhood roller rink for their Valentine's Night Couple Skate set list. rrrrrrr

See - this Mormon calling thing pays off.

2009-01-28T15:15:00.001-08:00

If you are Mormon - you understand the word, "calling" in a different sense than those who work for AT&T. In our church, a "calling" is a churchy job that you do with no promised recompense or reward (other than heavenly, I hope.)

Mormons expect a lot of their volunteers. Our church has no paid ministry, and you'd think we'd all be a wreck on Sundays, unable to function well. Instead, we are a streamlined, well-oiled, highly trained machine. It's amazing to see in action. Each member does some job and in turn, an entire congregation functions on Sundays - as well as during the week. Volunteers are running Cub Scout packs, playing the organ on Sunday, cleaning meetinghouses, paying church bills, counseling people, teaching folks English and gardening and how to budget. You name it - Mormons probably have a calling for it.

For the past long while, I've had callings in my church. I serve others because I feel, in doing so, I am serving the Lord. Poor Lord - I am not always the best servant. Sometimes, a calling is overwhelming and more often than not, I am ill-equipped to meet the challenges ahead of me. I have been blessed with excellent counselors and friends (and internet pals) who have listened to me, brainstormed with me, and helped me not be an idiot nearly as much as I would otherwise have proven. Still, I'd say I fail more than half the time. And I'm not being gracious there - I've had a boat load of failures.

Often, I think to myself, "Please! Let me not have to do this anymore so I can focus on other things for a while/so I can be less embarrassed of my shortcomings/so I can take a nap."

By often, I mean

uhhh

usually. Usually, like, every day.

Multiple times a day.

Today is a little different though. Today, I am humbled and thankful to have the opportunity to serve in my church.

A year ago today, I sat in a meeting hearing that 3.0 was developmentally delayed, had speech, communication, and comprehension issues, and frankly, she was waaaaay behind on the curvy racetrack that is life. I had tried multiple times to have her evaluated and had been dismissed. It took a lot of perseverance for me to find someone who would listen to my plea for help with her. I KNEW what kids her age should be doing because I had a calling working with children every Sunday in 8 different congregations. I was with children her age every week for several years - and between training, manuals I'd reviewed, teaching curricula, and raising my own chil'uns, I knew developmentally, 3.0 was a little different. But it took a lot to find someone to listen.

A year ago today, listening to the suddenly grim prognosis, I sat there thinking, "THIS SUCKS! My kid should have had help sooner - but no one would listen. I don't have time for a kid who has issues because I'm too busy helping everyone else. I don't have time to bathe - much less do therapies!"

If there was ever a time I didn't want a calling - it was then. I wanted to just focus on my family and not serve anyone but 1.0, 2.0, 3.0 - and maybe Mr. Mormon, if I felt like it that day. :)

But today - a year later, I sat in another meeting hearing how well 3.0 is doing. I left with an excellent IEP that will allow her to have all the services she needs next year...and will allow us to discontinue some she has grown out of already. I sat there today thinking, "Thank you for my calling! Thanks for helping me become an expert in little kids. Thank you for taking my very meager, humble, never-enough-service to others and using it to save my angel from confusion and misery. Thank you for helping me know how to help my family."

As we serve others - we can only better ourselves and grow. Even in our mistakes - we learn what to neeeeeeever ever try again (ask my mom about her taking a crazy lady to lunch trying to be a friend. he he heeeee - but see Mom - it was a learning experience - you now know to ignore the crazies.) As I sit here watching 3.0 struggle with making her Christmas card thank you notes and telling me, "Are they gone be so love it?", I know her communication skills still aren't perfect (nor is my thank-you-note-timeliness - but come on - better late than never!) She still doesn't count to 20 or know how to make her letters. She can't conjugate a verb or use a personal pronoun and prepositions bewilder her.

But I know where she should be headed and what else I can do to help. And I know that when we were down to the wire and I needed help and someone to listen about 3.0's plight and I could find no one, I was blessed in a most surprising way with just the right help I needed. And I know I will be blessed again.

I am grateful to all the folks who serve me every week - from bringing bread for the sacrament, to making copies to speaking to us on Sunday. I'm especially grateful to the people who provided ME with such excellent early childhood education training and who let me learn and experiment with their children every week. Without that, who knows where we would be today. A big fat thank you to all the nursery workers who needed training from me and to the others who didn't show up week after week - allowing me to become a nursery aficionado!

So I keep on serving. I don't serve that well all the time - but hopefully, I serve enough that others' lives aren't quite so dreary. Because today, as I look at my own life, it's not nearly as dreary as, a year ago, we had expected it to be.

WOOHOO!

The joys of parenting

2009-01-06T04:18:00.000-08:00

3.0, pointing - Mama - why you gots booboos?

Mama (fully dressed, mind you) - Those are boobies, not booboos. Everyone has them. Even DADDY.

3.0 - But yours is like balloons that is down.

Mama - Thank you 3.0.

3.0 - How they get that way? Mine booboos are not down. SEE!

Mama - Oh, just you wait, Precious Lamb.

Very, very, very unbelievably scary

2009-01-05T17:35:00.000-08:00

I must say, I do a lot of very, very, very unbelievably scary things in the name of God's love for all men.

Tomorrow, I get to be scared again.

My Bishop handed me a card yesterday with the names of some folks I'd never heard of. They are from the southern part of my state and, I was told, are up here while the wife is receiving chemo treatments. They called the Bishop and asked if someone could help with rides to and from the hospital a couple of days this week.

OoooooooK. I guess.

These kinds of requests always make me think, "Why did you not call and arrange that before you arrived? And why not give me some more notice?" But I try to be patient and imagine how I might act in a time of trouble and sadness.

Before I even got home from church and could call the folks, I had already received 2 messages from them. One from the woman, asking for assistance of any kind...and one from the husband that said, "This is Brother Blankity Blank. We've called twice now AND talked to your Bishop. HEEEEEEEEELP!!! HEEEEEEEELP UUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!"

0_0

No really - that is what he said.

This morning, at 8 am, I received another call interrupting family prayer. I asked the Compassionate Service Leader to please call the couple and get me some deets while I ran errands this morning (I was grocery shopping for a sick sister and checking in on another family whose dad went back in today for more chemo.)

And then, beyond the craziness of the aforementioned phone message, we opened a whole other can of crazy crap! Bro. Blank explained to her that they've lived here a long time, but just never come to church. They'd like some help now and (I quote), "We hear a lot of people get help from this church - and we want to know how we can get our hands on some."

So, I called Bro. Blank myself. As the discussion progressed, he couldn't exactly tell me what it was that they NEED, but he did want to share that he no longer has custody of his children (neither he nor his ex-wife could afford them and so they were warded to his parents), that he's going to lose his job and insurance on the 17th of January because he is a "mean nurse with a short fuse," and that they would love to come to my home for Family Home Evening any time we'd like to host them. He shared that his Bishop in his other ward isn't interested in helping their family now. He also explained to me it is wearying to them to be asked what they need because really, people should just think of what someone with gastric cancer would need and do, "that kind of stuff."

At this point, I said to him, "Bro. Blank - before yesterday, I never knew you existed on the planet, much less that you were in need of service and that it was so desperate that you needed to make several calls to my home and to other leaders in this area (like my Stake President and Stake RS President telling them they weren't hearing from me.) Some more specific directions right now could help me to help you faster as I get to know your family."

He went on to say that they would like to be entertained, especially during the day. If people could read to his wife, that would be great. Currently, she drives herself to chemo and has so many friends he gets irritated by them all (his words), but it'd be nice if we "stepped it up for a change."

Ahem.

I explained that our ward has two other families dealing with cancer diagnoses and treatments, and a myriad of other problems, disabilities, and overall stresses. I further explained we were going to have to determine what was really needed at this time and what just sounded fun, but wasn't necessary. When I asked him about the rides I was told he needed, he shared that his wife drives herself to and from chemo and it's no problem. We made arrangements that I'd come over tomorrow to visit and get more specific information.

While on the phone, I was put on hold so he could haggle with the Wendy's clerk and tell her he was a little short, so what was the least he could get the Frosty (he'd already sucked out of) for. He asked me how old I was (and laughed that I was young) and said he'd talk to me later and was glad I FINALLY called back.

Double ahem.

Minutes later, I received another call from Bro. Blank. He asked me what my name was again. He then said, "I spoke to my wife and she'd like rides to and from the hospital every day this week."

Mind you, the hospital is an easy 30 minutes away - but more like 45 in the morning, when she needs to arrive. And also mind you, my ward is doing this for another family, a woman who just had open-heart surgery, etc. etc. etc. We're pretty tapped out. There is a 4 hour wait between drop off and pick up, so it will take two sisters, or one very patient one, to assist this family.

I asked what had changed since she had been driving herself and why she now was also going on Fridays when he'd told both me and the Bishop that she "had Friday's off." He explained that she's not really that happy driving herself and he's worried she will get depressed and drive herself to South Florida, back to her friends.

I kept it to myself, but I asked, "And that's a problem......how?"

Explaining that I can't ask busy women to drive folks around because husbands think their wives will run away from home, he changed his tune and said her doctors told her she can't drive.

Also, he decided that when someone picks them up - they could bring some dinner for that night. Or better yet, someone else could come by later with dinner. Also, the missionaries should probably stop by every day and read his wife the Bible.

Aaaaaaaalrighty then.

So tomorrow, I'm going to meet this motley crew and get some things straightened out. The sense of entitlement not just by this family - but by sooooooo many - is staggering.

I will say it leads to great stories, though!

Once again, I will tromp into some stranger's home and hope they are on the up and up. It's a little nervous-making to do this so often, but I figure, if I haven't been offed yet, what're the odds that tomorrow will be the day?

Right?

Mama's Top Ten List of Almost New Year's Resolutions

2009-01-05T17:00:00.000-08:00

I'm not making resolutions this year. But if I diiiiiiiid make some, they'd look about like this...

Number 10

I resolve to not sigh audibly when the crazy sisters stand up in Relief Society to bear their testimonies. Instead, I resolve to keep the sigh inside and also, to try to look engaged instead of at my feet.

Number 9

I resolve to not have malevolent feelings to those who are inactive, but still want help moving/packing/with meals after their precious babies are born/a food order so they have more drinking money. I know these hateful feelings only hurt me. And really, I want to hurt them. So I will be more brave and just say, "Do you FEEL like a loser asking the Elder's Quorum to help you move since you've denounced God and all religion? Have you heard of a moving company and your family?"

Summation: I will be more direct in my communications.

Number 8

I resolve to bring my own chalk and eraser every time I teach on Sunday, thereby keeping me from having to go in the damp, strangely flourescent-ly lit church library and beg Bro. Aficionado Talksalot to pleeeeeease hook me up with a chalk stub. This will spare me from listening to mini-dissertations on subjects including sciatica, his new job, dog care, and other miscellany. Additionally, this should add another 10 minutes to my Gospel Doctrine attendance and probably a year to my life.

Number 7

I resolve to have more casseroles at the ready so that I no longer need to ask anyone to deliver a meal to a needy person and can just do it myself. Less hassle - less time on the phone begging for assistance - and less blessings for anyone but me. WOOHOOOOOO

I might also change my name to "Sister Martyr."

Number 6

I resolve to cry less in Relief Society when I see the distress in the lives of others. Allowing my heart to shrink 2 sizes too small will assist in that effort.

Number 5

Shrink heart.

Number 4

I resolve to babysit other people's brats, I mean, precious darlings, no more than one time a month. (In total - not per family.) Additionally, emergency babysitting drop offs where mothers feel that ex-husbands are going to come and try to steal the children and MIGHT have a gun with them will no longer be entertained.

Number 3

I resolve to care less about Visiting Teaching numbers and to not let the stake/the VT Supervisor/the Bishop/sensitive sisters/my own feelings of inadequacy/my worries for these women make me go and do everyone's visits for them.*

Instead, I will post a tasteful sign on the Relief Society bulletin board citing, "The first time you complain about your Visiting Teaching route, I will listen and make adjustments. The second time you complain, you are the new Visiting Teaching Leader. I no longer believe in inspiration for callings - it just goes to the one who snarks last. Got it?"

*see Number 5 - Shrink heart.

Number 2

I resolve to pay more attention to my children and less attention to the grown women who act like children.

And Number 1

I resolve to keep on loving the weary and difficult to love and to blog off the tension with my favorite Monkey homeys!

Thanks for always hearing me out and keeping me sane, good peeps!

2008 in Review - Thanks Mountain Shaman!!

2009-01-02T06:03:00.001-08:00

It's anonymous and you're among friends.

2008-12-22T16:38:00.001-08:00

So tell me the truth.

Do you tip the post man this time of year?

You know you're supposed to, right?

I don't have a really great post man. At least a couple of times a month, I get someone else's mail and have to schlep it to them. But then today, he walked my mail up to the door because there was a lot. I'm trying to decide - does he sincerely care that much about my mail and my life that he was trying to make things easier for me - or does he want some loot?

I'm on the fence - do I tip - do I not? Maybe I get crappy mail service because I'm the neighborhood cheapskate. And how much do I have to give him? Can't I just make him some cookies like I do everyone else? It'd save me a sheckle or two.

So - this time of year - who do you tip? But let us in on the real scandal - who do you refuse to tip? Do tell.....

In case you thought I was getting a big head...

2008-12-22T16:31:00.001-08:00

Apparently, my children thought, in spite of my hearty protests, that I would win that little race I was in.

Yeah. Right-o, kids. Like I can zip through 3 miles in 17 minutes like the winner did. Uh huh.

As I came running up to the end, I saw my little family waving at me and cheering. I was so happy to see them! And I stepped to the side to give them high-5s before crossing the finish line (thereby adding an easy 24 minutes to my run. Otherwise, I WOULD have won, ya know.)

As I was high-5ing my curly-sue 3.0 she said, "Mama - you are NOT a winner! You are NOT A WINNER!"

Thanks, kid. I limped on over to the finish line and called it a day.

Apparently, the folks who finished ahead of me were winners. To her, I was the big loser.

She kept telling me over and over - for most of the way back to the car - that I was not a winner. That combined with the 1.0 and 2.o explaining to me how much less sweaty the other folks were than me really keeps a gal humble, ya know.

I do believe my children will cross stitch this into a sampler for me someday.

Now for the obligatory...

2008-12-21T06:55:00.000-08:00

...life is like a race post.

I know - you've read them before. But here are the thoughts that were going through my still-naturally-dark-brown-Mormon-mother-head as I was a jogging my 5K yesterday...a day that does not have to live in infamy!

Let me start by saying - I am a fierce runner...when it's so cold I can't feel my legs. Anything over about 50 degrees, though, and I stink. Tis true. Mr. Mormon says I should be an Alaskan racer. I concur. Yesterday - RACE DAY - the high was in the 80s. Ohhh - poor Mama.

Anyhoo - I knew the odds were stacked against me. But I'm all about persevering when I feel like it, and I felt like it, so I went for it.

I didn't study a lot for the race. I didn't know the exact path or how many folks would be there. I didn't know where the official start and end points were and I didn't even know where to park. I've noticed a theme in my life - if I'm nervous about something, I'd rather know less and figure it out when I get there. For many, knowledge is power. To me, when I'm stressed, knowledge is nervousness! I'm glad to have not known in advance that part of the path was through a cemetery and that there was virtually no shade to escape to in my black, heat-absorbing MAKE IT WORK shirt (thanks, MM! I channeled my inner Tim Gunn!)

So, I hobbled along and just let the road take me where it took me. I had a general idea of what was going on (running around a lake in Mormonville for 3.1 miles) and for me, that was enough. Sometimes, people were behind me for a bit - and then they passed me - and then they were behind me...

As I was putzing along, some men were just deadset to get ahead of several of us. In fact, one gang of guys was so adamant that they would pass some of us -they cheated and took a short cut. Ohhh - that got me hot for a couple of minutes until I realized, like your mother always teaches you, they're really only cheating themselves. A mile later, when I ran back into them they stayed ahead of me for a bit, but quickly had to stop - and one man ended up dry-heaving in the bushes. I'm sure he "beat" a lot of people, but in the end, he didn't beat me. I passed his dry-heaving-too-small-shorts-self and knew he was suffering because he had chosen to walk for a long time across the short cut and now, the heat was getting to him. Sure, I was on the slowpoke but steady path, but the heat and exhaustion wasn't so overwhelming that way.

And isn't that how life is? You don't know your exact path, but you have a general idea. And there are folks who are just deadset to pass you on by - and maybe they will win - but in the end - it's all about just finishing. Whether you are first or last, your success is all about having tried and finished. Sure - it'd be great to finish first, looking smoking hot, having some plaques on the wall, and in the cutest, sweat-free outfit. But that's gravy...not substance.

I believe in life, many folks are passing me by right now. I am at a near standstill at having lots of big-deal-accomplishments. I am not a success in a workplace and I don't always know exactly what is on my schedule for tomorrow. It might be helping someone find a ride. It might be going out with missionaries or listening to someone who is struggling. But I keep on jogging and putting one foot in front of the other. And while I don't know where the path will take me, I know that at the finish line, I will have traveled just as far as everyone else and I will have made it home. And that is winning the race.

Whine, whine, whine, complain, complain, complain

2008-12-06T05:08:00.000-08:00

(cue the soap opera music)

This week in....As the Ward Turns....

...one young family finds out stage 3 cancer has metastasized and is now stage 4.

...a family loses their home and is forced to move.

...a young mother miscarries the weekend her family is moving across the country.

...two more families lose their jobs.

...a mother of 5 (the oldest child in elementary school) learns she has Lupus.

...a woman who has a crisis of faith, and when I don't have time to listen as much as she'd like, she hangs up on me.

As Relief Society President, I find I am just not that sympathetic to random whining. Additionally, I find that this is a problem.

Your husband is laid off - talk to me. You are ill - share. You get headaches at church and have decided to take a couple of months off - maybe you should not try to get me to feel tremendous sympathy for that one.

I wrestle with this every week, and I've had so much patience and compassion extended to me throughout my life that I try to model that to others. But I think the faces I am making are giving me away that I think some of this....is bunk.

In my church-y job, I hear a lot of sad things. Large portions of heartbreak with sides of doubt and shame are often on my weekly menu. I try to compartmentalize individual problems and not make comparisons. I know the pain that comes from having your struggle set up against another's and you hear, "Just think - it could be worse! It could be like So-and-So's....." I've done that and seen the hurt it causes - and I've been on the receiving end and thought, "Thanks for sharing - now put your head down."

The point being, I know better.

But I am about at my WIT'S END with a couple of gals in my ward who have decided that things are sooooooooooooo hard for them. They require inordinate amounts of attention and when I reflect on their "problems", it's hard for me to not shout, "Sis. Blah's husband is DYING - can we talk about your church headaches and how the three-hour-block is harder for you than everyone else because you are sensitive AND hypoglycemic later, please?"

I know that would be wrong, but it's a large temptation on my part.

Last night at the Ward Christmas Party, I was speaking with a sister who shared with that she is feeling overwhelmed. Her husband loses his job at the end of December and she has 5 kids, and learned she was pregnant with baby number 6 when she went to get her tubes tied. Now, the little Wombie she is growing is having issues and she's in fear of miscarrying, which is an emotional nightmare for her (she feels she's wished that child gone at times - and now it might happen.) Her middle son was just diagnosed as Autistic and she's stressed out.

Duh.

As I was speaking with her, another woman (no Mom - not THAT one) was waiting to talk to me. Sis. Overwhelmed let me go saying something like, "I need to quit bending your ear - Sis. Eager is waiting to speak to you."

I turn to Sis. Eager who wants to share with me how I can better decorate for the Ward Christmas party and how she'd like me to let someone know that we should not have as much food at church functions. Also, she feels there should be more focus on service at church activities and women who have had multiple children should not be receiving baby showers. These things have been on her mind and she needs to get them off her chest as she is no longer enjoying church on Sunday and has thought about not coming back because of it.

Aaaaaaaaalrighty then.

So talk to me, Good Peeps. How do I make every sister feel like she can share and she has support - but at the same time - help folks to see that there is a bigger picture and maybe, their dramas shouldn't be as overwhelming as they have let them become? So far, I've tried:

explaining that life is meant to be a time of growth and learning, not of pedicures and spa visits.
helping them understand that real life doesn't look like TV.
encouraging them to serve others so they have a clearer perspective of what real problems are.
setting them up as Visiting Teachers of sisters who are having a hard time (that went over like a lead balloon and is another post all its own.)
telling them, nicely, to knock it off.
giving their problems lots of attention so they feel better. BIG MISTAKE
praying for them.
practicing inner eye-rolling but otherwise, plastering on the Look of Concern I was issued when I took over this job.

Help?

Run Mama MC

2008-12-04T10:26:00.000-08:00

I am not really a super athletic person. Roughly translated, that means, "I suck at sports."

I can kick your butt at many things so long as they are not sport, game, or intelligence-related. But an athlete, I am not.

From the time I was little, I wanted to be a runner. While I huffed and labored, I would see kids blithely running past me on the school track and I'd think, "Man - it stinks I can't run better. My dang asthma is always holding me back!"

Except, ya know, I didn't have asthma.

What I did (do?) have were really horrible shin splints. For as long as I could remember, I have had a lot of leg pain when I do much more than sit on my bum. Living in a mostly-tile home leaves me sore at the end of each day. Going to the mall or Disney or someplace that requires a lot of walking leaves me limpy. I don't let it stop me, but I do enjoy whining and getting some sympathy from Mr. Mormon.

After Jackie's Near Death Experience 2008, I looked at my big fat bum and decided something had to change and I challenged myself to run a 5K before the year was over. In my mind's eye, I wanted to be like those carefree kids running all smooth-and-easy around the track at school. Knowing it's nearly impossible for my (svelte, trim, often tanned, and extremely long) legs to take the impact of running on the road for any extended period of time, I knew this was a pretty dang lofty goal. For most of you, it'd be no biggie. It should NOT have been a biggie for me, except, I'm a wimp with legs that don't enjoy impact. I believe I could be a champion in an Elliptical Machine 5K. But ask me to jog on a road for 3 miles.....gosh - my legs start to ache just at the thought.

Recently, I realized the year was nearly over and I'd not run a 5K. In fact, I haven't even waltzed or skateboarded a 5K. So I began training and registered myself in the last 5K Mormon-ville was offering this year.

I googled all sorts of info on shin splints and corrective exercises. Every shin splint-stretch on YouTube has been tried by Yours Mormon-ly. I had my feet examined at a runner's store here and had them fit me for special shoes to try to alleviate some pain. Still, after a minute of jogging, tears would be welling from the sheer torture.

But I kept on. Because really, I'm one tough broad. I don't have a tremendous number of redeeming qualities - but freakish tenacity is sort of my claim to fame. Each day I added a few more seconds to my (pathetically slow and painful) jog - until I finally mastered 3 miles of limping on a treadmill.

SHUT UP! Whodda thunk the chunkette housewife could pull it off?

Then - I was off to the road. OK - that stunk. I couldn't run more than 6 minutes at a time on the asphalt. The pain was so tremendous I almost called Mr. Mormon to come and get me as I didn't think I could even walk home. I gave up for about a week. I figured on race day, I'd just go to my treadmill and limp my 5K there. I'd pretend someone was cheering for me and that I got the free t-shirt for finishing. I'd call it a day and save myself the embarrassment and misery.

But eventually, that aforementioned freakish tenacity raised its freakish head and said, "Hey freak - let's try one more time."

So I did.

I kept on trying

and trying.

And today!

I ran.....

on the sidewalks of my neighborhood....

for 3.1 miles.

I am happier than when I got married...happier than when I met my children for the first time...happier than cruising with Kahlik.

(That's some hyperbole for effect, folks. But I am really happy.)

And I'm sort of proud. It took me forever to do something that probably most of you reading here can do already - or could do in a week - but for me, it was a major accomplishment.

I run my 5K later this month, but I don't know that finishing that will make me any happier than I am today. I conquered my body. There's a lot about this body that doesn't work properly and that gives me fits, and I don't conquer it very often. More often than not, I'm conquered by it as I pop pills to keep me going. But today - I won.

Body: 362,000 wins Mama:1 (but it's the one that I really wanted to count!)

Never say I'm not a problem solver

2008-11-27T15:42:00.000-08:00

How was your Thanksgiving, folks? I thought about Nancy Face as we were deep frying turkeys. I must say that the smell did traipse on in the house and smelled delish, and I wondered if her turkey smell would make it indoors, as well. We made two turkeys and have - ohhhh - an entire turkey plus some left.

Leftovers.

Something about leftovers just does me in. They make me nervous. I don't want to waste. I feel like I've been entrusted with this food (that frankly, no one else wanted) and I don't want to let it down....I don't want to disappoint my family and let it rot in the back of the fridge.

I see the food and feel overwhelmed. Ziplocs and Rubbermaid containers take over my refrigerator and I get a bit apoplectic. The fact that all that tasty goodness is entrusted to my care makes me apprehensive. I wonder to myself, "Can we possibly eat all this before it gets fuzzy?"

"Do I have leftover stuffing recipes?"

"Will the children eat gravy-cicles if I swear to them Santa feeds them to the reindeer?"

The very thought of everything going sour makes me think, "Mama - do your part and eat some of it now, woman!" Each time I open the fridge door, I feel I must sample something to help it disappear. If I eat another chunk of food every hour, eventually, it will all be gone - and none will be wasted.

Right?

The problem is, I'm going to pop soon. I can't eat much more. The kids don't eat a lot and Mr. Mormon doesn't really help get rid of the food. He doesn't have dinner guilt. Get this! If he doesn't want to eat it - he just doesn't! He doesn't keep picking at it until finally, he whittles it to nothing. It doesn't bother him in the slightest that a can and a half of cranberry sauce is going to die in the fridge on our watch. He just ignores it!

Men.

Clearly, he is no help to me to get all this food gone. I need a partner. And that is why I have made the decision to get a tapeworm.

A tapeworm will be my holiday food friend! I just swallow my little buddy and eat all I want....and all he wants too! The food will not go to waste and....the food will not go to (my) waist. WIN WIN! Tapeworms are hungry and I have a lot of food sitting here needing to be eaten. All I need to do is make a quick, wiggly swallow. Then I can sit back and wait for my little buddy to do all the work.

Ahhhhhh - problem solved! Just another thing to be grateful for.....tapeworms.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Gift giving ideas

2008-11-24T07:11:00.000-08:00

It has come to my attention that I have some faithful dude-followers on this here blog. Unabashedly, this is one of the most masculine sites on the Net, so it makes sense you would find yourself perusing my pages.

Duh.

I have sympathy for men these days. In my almost humble opinion, the world has become rather girl-i-fied. I’m noticing fewer hunting-plaid-man-recliners in my friends’ homes and more wing back chairs with matching ottomans. There are fewer BBQs in my neighborhood - and more sushi nights (hello - men don’t want sushi - they want to gnaw hunks of bloody meat.) I’ve spotted men in IKEA lately - and come on - we all know you don’t want to be there. The glassed over look in your eyes says it all.

So, may this post be a respite from the rest of the womanly world for ya, boys. This video’s for you. And let me share with you my simple holiday wish - may you enjoy less Spice Cake and more Duct Tap

(Pause my player first...or, ya know, don't and try to decipher the dialogue through the music.)

Things that don't suck

2008-11-22T13:23:00.000-08:00

It's nearly Thanksgiving and down here in the House of Mormon and there is much to be thankful for. There are also some stresses, but I beat their butts down every morning and keep on chugging. I'm dope like that.

I'm grateful that it's nearly time to chow on some turkey because I really love (deep-fried) turkey and I only ever eat it - ohhhh - once a year! I don't know why I don't kill giant birds and stuff my face with them more frequently. It's cheap and tasty and .... ya know ... cheap and tasty! (Note to self - eat more turkey. Especially when Jackie Oh provides it so it's totally free!)

I'm also very pleased that Mr. Mormon's old job is letting him hang out for a while and that he has another job in hand (as well as another interview for his dream job.) It's nice to have employment in this crap economy. And while I'm always appreciative of how hard Mr. Mormon works to sustain me in the lifestyle I've grown accustomed to, the situation has helped me learn more about myself, as well. I know now that I'm capable of tightening up much more than I had realized and I also learned that possible unemployment is TOTALLY great for my figure. My good butt jeans are back on....well....my good butt. YAHOO! Thanks Mr. Mormon for getting canned! My butt totally appreciates it! (And who are we kidding? Your eyes totally appreciate it, too.)

And rounding up today's post on things that please me...I'd like to let the world know I'm thoroughly stoked that it's cold here and I'm getting to layer my clothes. I look so much better layered. Most folks do, in fact. I feel like Mother Nature has smiled on me every day I get to layer clothing due to cold. Thanks Mother Nature!

So - whatcha loving about life lately, good homeys?

Anyone else tired of being a Prop 8 Punch Bag Bob?

2008-11-15T16:45:00.000-08:00

I'm so tired of taking one for the team about Prop 8. If one more person tells me how they like me, but hate my church, I might smack 'em. It wouldn't be OK to say, "I like you, but your outfit and hair - maaaaaaan - those are atrocious!" We wouldn't think of saying that would we? That's because our mamas raised us better! But when it comes to religion, folks feel free to say what they want.

Guess what? It's not cool anymore. Anthrax-hoaxes at temples? Lame.

I found the following on someone's blog and wanted to share it. It's my sentiment right now. Everyone can blame Mormons for the vote, but it wasn't an exclusively LDS mandate.

1. Mormons make up less than 2% of the population of California. There are approximately 800,000 LDS out of a total population of approximately 34 million.

2. Mormon voters were less than 5% of the yes vote. If one estimates that 250,000 LDS are registered voters (the rest being children), then LDS voters made up 4.6% of the Yes vote and 2.4% of the total Proposition 8 vote.

3. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormons) donated no money to the Yes on 8 campaign. Individual members of the Church were encouraged to support the Yes on 8 efforts and, exercising their constitutional right to free speech, donated whatever they felt like donating.

4. The No on 8 campaign raised more money than the Yes on 8 campaign. Unofficial estimates put No on 8 at $38 million and Yes on 8 at $32 million, making it the most expensive non-presidential election in the country.

5. Advertising messages for the Yes on 8 campaign are based on case law and real-life situations. The No on 8 supporters have insisted that the Yes on 8 messaging is based on lies. Every Yes on 8 claim is supported.

6. The majority of our friends and neighbors voted Yes on 8. Los Angeles County voted in favor of Yes on 8. Ventura County voted in favor of Yes on 8.

7. African Americans overwhelmingly supported Yes on 8. Exit polls show that 70% of Black voters chose Yes on 8. This was interesting because the majority of these voters voted for President-elect Obama. No on 8 supporters had assumed that Obama voters would vote No on 8

8. The majority of Latino voters voted Yes on 8. Exit polls show that the majority of Latinos supported Yes on 8 and cited religious beliefs (assumed to be primarily Catholic).

9. The Yes on 8 coalition was a broad spectrum of religious organizations. Catholics, Evangelicals, Protestants, Orthodox Jews, Muslims – all supported Yes on 8. It is estimated that there are 10 million Catholics and 10 million Protestants in California. Mormons were a tiny fraction of the population represented by Yes on 8 coalition members.

10. Not all Mormons voted in favor of Proposition 8. Our faith accords that each person be allowed to choose for him or her self. Church leaders have asked members to treat other members with "civility, respect and love," despite their differing views.

11. The Church did not violate the principle of separation of church and state. This principle is derived from the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, which reads, "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof . . ." The phrase "separation of church and state", which does not appear in the Constitution itself, is generally traced to an 1802 letter by Thomas Jefferson, although it has since been quoted in several opinions handed down by the United States Supreme Court in recent years. The LDS Church is under no obligation to refrain from participating in the political process, to the extent permitted by law. U.S. election law is very clear that Churches may not endorse candidates, but may support issues. The Church has always been very careful on this matter and occasionally (not often) chooses to support causes that it feels to be of a moral nature.

12. Supporters of Proposition 8 did exactly what the Constitution provides for all citizens: they exercised their First Amendment rights to speak out on an issue that concerned them, make contributions to a cause that they support, and then vote in the regular electoral process. For the most part, this seems to have been done in an open, fair, and civil way. Opponents of 8 have accused supporters of being bigots, liars, and worse. The fact is, we simply did what Americans do – we spoke up, we campaigned, and we voted.

(If anyone would like to fact check all that - feel free. I started, but I'm getting tired now. Any takers?)

I guess the biggest point I'd like to make is.....more folks in CA wanted it to pass than didn't want it to pass. Punct. Similar amendments came up in other states and they also passed. I wish no one to be hurt by legislation - but folks, it wasn't just Mormons who weren't interested in gay marriages being recognized. I'm sorry about that. I cannot imagine the pain it must cause.

But guess what - just because I'm LDS and have a tender heart - that doesn't mean I want to read

1. untruths about what happened

2. the unkind comments about Mormons that are now deemed acceptable.

3. that I am close-minded, ignorant, uneducated, backwards, misguided, etc. because I continue to love my religion.

4. that I probably live in a bubble and know no gay people, therefore, I shouldn't get to vote.

5. that Mormons are uneducated, and that's the whole problem.

Or, ya know, anything of the like.

I feel if proponents of gay marriage have a problem with the LDS church, they should do what Pubs did to the Dixie Chicks a few years ago.....don't join in. Don't buy our albums or go to Deseret Industries and for pity's sake - don't send your kid to a LDS college. Never accept help from Mormons when they clean up after your hurricane and stay away from the Hallmark Chanel on Sunday mornings when they run Music and the Spoken Word. But maybe it's time to leave your LDS friends and neighbors alone and use your energies to overturn Prop 8 or keep it from happening somewhere else if it is that important to you. Put your money and time where your mouth is....you know, like those pesky Mormons.

Thanks for hearing me out.

This week in RATE THAT SIN!

2008-11-12T04:39:00.000-08:00

Sure - we recognize the above list as sins. But periodically, I like to request that you, my gentle homeys, help me rate some of the less easily categorized transgressions. Ponder with me, once again, to determine if this is a sin? And if so, is it

Totally Telestial

Somewhat Satanic

or should I be

Auf-ed to Outer Darkness?

So - riddle me this? Is it a sin to have a potty word in your favorite exercise song if you really REALLY run faster to that song and you somewhat consider that, well, a spiritual experience? Does anything change *if* you find yourself, when in extreme shin pain, turning your iPod up louder to better hear the angry potty words and then, uhh, smiling?

Mama's handy tip of the day

2008-11-07T05:59:00.000-08:00

If you purchase a new brasierre to better support you during workouts....

And if, saaaaaaay, the undergarment is not offering the anticipated benefits and, in fact, rather hurts when you move more than one inch in any direction...

Then....it is a worthwhile endeavor to check and see if said undergarment is on, uhhhh, inside out. Because you might have just really hurt yourself for nothing.

Additionally, I'd advise one to check on the inside-out-status of the support item before spending, let's see, most of the entire day flinching in pain at movements even as small as a yawn or, well, the raise of an eyebrow. Really - just check it out.

I'm just saying. You'll thank me later for that handy tip, homeys.

Excuse me! I think I've got a heartache

2008-11-05T16:15:00.000-08:00

Ohh - the hits just keep on coming, homeys!

First, Mr. Mormon has kidney stones over Halloween. (Fun!) Theeeeen - the family gets the stomach flu. (Colonics are popular - how about some old school diarrhea? Is that chic?) Next lackluster moment - McCain loses (and explaining abortion to your nine and seven year olds isn't all it's cracked up to be - just so's ya know) and nooooooooooooow Mr. Mormon discovers he is only guaranteed work until 31 December of this year.

No - I'm not kidding.

2.0 suggested that Mr. Mormon leave his current career and become a famous SCUBA diver. I'm somewhat interested in that career path. I feel the world needs another Jacques Cousteau - and why couldn't it be Mr. Mormon? Sure - there are his constant skin cancer scares and motion sickness setbacks, but he's all about making a comeback. 2.0 also volunteered to work on cruise ships to support us and 1.0 told me I might as well get a job seeing as the children are pretty much grown up already.

In other news - I'm training to run a 5K and haven't kerplopped over dead, yet. Optimistically, I trudge to the gym each morning and start to feel all good about my running. That is - I feel self-assured until some cute young thaaaang jumps on the treadmill next to me, cranks it up to 6.5, and blasts past me. (Well, not REALLY past me, as you know, then she'd have to run through the plate glass window as we are on a treadmill and all - but work with me. I'm missing McCain.) I silently wish Miss Thaaaaang dead with the power of my mind and tell myself she might be hot, young, and a fast runner, but does she know how to clean a fishbowl in under 5 minutes before visitors come over? Probably not! SO THERE SKINNY HOT CHICK!

Some perkier developments (no - I didn't get the breast augmentation -sheesh!)... Both my big girls got straight As this 9-weeks and 2.0 is back at gymnastics post broken arm. WOOHOO! Additionally, 3.0 is apparently, the Duck Whisperer. It was pre-K day at the farm on Monday, and my baby was the ONLY kid to catch a duck and snuggle it in the petting zoo. She would sneak up behind them and grab 'em and we'd all laugh! Of course, with our luck, she will probably come down with Bird Flu. But then we can sue and pay the bills. Oh yes! Our bad luck may finally - literally! - pay off!

Body fluids are your friends

2008-10-30T15:14:00.000-07:00

Usually, getting a new Bishop is fun and exciting. Unless, of course, you are the auxiliary President who most closely associates with the Bishop and you are afraid for who will be called. Our Bishop was called to the Stake Presidency and that is lovely for him and for all of us, I suppose.

But now, I'll get a greenie. Or even worse - I'll get someone who's done it before and is set in his ways and crotchety.

I heard once in an Escape class that if victims want to get away from the perp quickly, two of the most effective things they can do is to urinate on themselves or vomit.

I already have a plan of action for my first ward council meeting.

Do I hear a double dog dare?

I might use the old puke and pee on some other folks, as well.

I think I can say I love all the women in my ward. I can't think of any I don't love, at least.

There are a few I'd like to spank, though. :) I have a sister I've done about 4 food orders for and she's never filled any of them. But then she comes back weeks later asking for another.

Then there's the sister whose ideal food order for 2 people for 2 weeks included 34 pounds of meat, 24 desserts, and ohhh, about 20 pounds of flour. She didn't love me when I told her we needed to menu plan and that this order needed an adjustment.

I was recently stormed out on and had a door slammed at me for telling someone she needed to ask the Bishop for a food order, like everyone else. There was an interesting conversation that I had lately wherein it was determined I should personally pay for folks to drive others to the storehouse since it wouldn't be right for me to ask someone to serve another for nothing and it also wouldn't be right to ask the church to reimburse people for their gas. And finding out that sisters didn't attend RS Temple Night (they said they couldn't because they had a major athletic event the next day) and I discovered later that they went to see High School Musical 3 instead was yet another un-uplifting moment of this Presidency.

But there is plenty of good. (Think of the good, Mama.....concentrate...concentrate....) In fact, 99% of this job is just lovely and I enjoy serving folks and being a sounding board. I am honored that women let me in their lives and share their most private issues with me so we can problem solve and help them get ahead.

I got not one but TWO lovely emails last week telling me what a great President I am. How nice is THAT? I was amazed anyone would take the time out for that and am honored anyone would think I don't suck. Overall, there is a lot of joy and happiness to be had in this calling.

But that's not to say I wouldn't mind puking and more-purposefully-tinkling to get out of a couple of jobs sometimes. I'm just saying....

Back in the saddle again!

2008-10-30T15:04:00.000-07:00

Hola homeys!

I don't know how many of you are left - weep.

I had to make my blog disappear-y for a while seeing as my darling ward was on a hunt to find it. Now mind you, they have the family blog link, so you'd think they'd let me off the hook - but nooooo. Their search effort combined with my lack of computer (I dropped it one too many times - oopsies) caused me to shut down for a bit.

But now I'm re-grouped and ready for bear. Bare? I never can remember.

Anyone still care to play along?

The Axe

2008-09-08T17:28:00.001-07:00

Blessed day of peace and rest. Mr. Mormon got the axe from the Bishopric!

HAAAAAAALLELUJAH!

Now, I am top banana in this monkey palace. :)

Lots of folks had such nice things to say to Mr. Mormon on Sunday and he was thanked for his service. The Primary President broke down crying several times when he was telling her how nice it was to have served with her. I think they've been through so many trials together, and it was an emotional time for her to think she has someone new to break in.

Now, he's back off to the clerk's quorum, where he is happy, un-stressed, and not in charge of Cub Scouts, Deacons, Primary, the library, Activities Committee, 11-Year-Old Scouts...oh he is doing the happy dance of joy!

Having a member of the Bishopric married to the Relief Society President was insane. But it did have some perks that I will miss. Sitting next to him in meetings was nice...but sitting next to him in sacrament will be nicer. We still won't drive together to church, so we're continuing our 9 year separation that way - but he will no longer be at church on Sundays for 8 hours and on Wednesday nights and most Saturdays.....AT ALL! He has a tricked out-retro styling office to hide from Sunday School in and I have a less-stressed, happy hubby. Life is good!!

Riddle me this?

2008-08-12T11:01:00.001-07:00

Why is it that female Olympic swimmers are covered from neck to ankle in a state of the art, NASA inspired suit...

...and female Olympic volleyball champs are in skimpy bikinis?

If my bits and pieces were diving for balls in the sand, I'd want that top outfit on, myself.

This week in, "Is this a sin?"....

2008-08-03T06:31:00.000-07:00

...we examine the level of sinfulness of the following transgression.

---Forgetting it is Fast Sunday, and gulping a Diet Dr. Pepper to recover from a friend's shocking email revelation.

Rate that sin.

Totally Telestial

Somewhat Satanic

Aufed in Outer Darkness

You know your family...

2008-07-26T18:20:00.000-07:00

...has an engineer in it when everyone spends the better part of their weekend playing with a physics tool on the computer to make a Roub Gouldberg machine.

You know you are old when you go into Old Navy to find a new frock and realize you've owned every style featured in the store at some point in your life.

You know you are old and crochetey when you refuse to buy anything because you already lived long enough to learn -

A. white pants look good on virtually no one larger than a size 2.

B. there are few virtuous reasons to wear a gold lame bathing suit.

C. baby doll dresses look best on folks with no breasts, hips, or bums. Or, well, baby dolls.

You know you have OCD about placement and symmetry in decorating when you are discontented with how some IKEA storage boxes are looking in the corner of the family room, so you seriously consider an addition for better chi.

You know something is off in the world when you see plenty of normal folks driving cars when you are out on the road - but in the DMV, you are the only one doesn't seem to have a steel plate in her head.

Organizing Visiting Teaching is really...

2008-07-21T19:58:00.000-07:00

...just like playing a giant Bejeweled game of people.

Think about it.

If you were ever a Visiting Teaching Coordinator, you know that comment just spoke to your soul. You're just trying to get three in a row. But then, one person moves, and suddenly, everything slides down a spot and something goes ka-boom. And just when you get it all fixed and in place - you level up and start all over.

Dang profound, isn't it?

Pods are not just storage units

2008-07-18T04:55:00.000-07:00

Help me good folks inside my computer!

I am looking for some great podcasts to grow attached to in my copious spare time. Any recommendations? Be aware that I'm a nerdy girl and like educational and churchy things, as well as news stories - generally - I prefer things that make my brain bigger. Things for kids would be cool, too.

So? What'cha got for me?

Thank you, people of the interwebs!

Seriously!

2008-07-17T06:36:00.000-07:00

Between Mr. Mormon and myself, we're rather in the thick of dealing with crud.

His family has the unsavory task of dealing with his recently deceased and longtime estranged father's "stuff." He's found two suitcases full of papers to go through and there's still much more to find. But he needs a hazmat team to help him finish.

No, seriously. Hazmat.

I'm trying like mad to get 3.0 squared away and get some speech services provided to her through our insurance, which is a logistics nightmare at best. Call the therapist - call the doctor - call the teacher - call the doctor back - call the therapist back - call the billing department back - call the insurance - call the insurance - call the insurance - email the therapist and the billing department.....

We have a PPO, but we still have to use in-network providers or else. (Sort of makes you wonder why it's a PPO?) But there are no in-network speech providers in my area. Or within the next 75 miles. And - gosh - there are NO approved speech therapists in all of Florida for my baby.

Seriously.

What do YOU think the chances are that they are going to cover my kid's speech?

Yeah - that's about what I thought. At least I didn't have to traipse through bodily fluids to get my task completed. Mr. Mormon wins there. Fear Factor family issues trump my multi-media insurance capers.

On top of all of that, my car needs an oil change, I need to make a total of six doctors' appointments for the kids and I, I continue to be coughing up a lung, and my Scooba is still dead so I'm having to keep it old school in mopping. (Old school meaning I use the carpet cleaner's hard floor attachment - I'm not REALLY mop-mopping. Puh-lease. I don't even own one anymore.)

I wish I could hire someone to sort this all out for us.

Seriously - I want to hire someone. So - are any of you willing? I'll pay you what I make an hour to handle this for us. Any takers?

Thanks in advance! You're so nice. Seriously! Call me when you're done - I'm going to the beach.

A (slow) day in the life of a Relief Society President

2008-07-14T06:43:00.000-07:00

early-ish am - Roll outta bed and discover your husband will not be going to church today. Do an (internal) happy dance because this means you have HELP getting kids ready for religion.

9:45 am - Curse that you promised 2.0 you'd curl her hair since Daddy was home and Mama was less-stressed than usual.

10:20 am - Rejoice as you've only had one call (and 3 emails) about church all morning - and leave to go to church.

10:22 - Re-enter the house for all the things you forgot you have to deliver to folks at church. Smooch 3.0 good-bye again and (further) rejoice that you are minus one kid during Sacrament Meeting!

10:50 - Arrive at church. Immediately become surrounded with people wanting stuff/you/an opinion/an ear.

10:59 - Apologize to a sister for saying "No" to her before she even got out her question (you could see that hymnal in her paw and suspected no good could come of it.) Wonder if your menstrual cycle is on its way and know that this sacrament meeting will have greater significance seeing as you are in the midst of the repentance process with Hymnal Sister.

11:15 am - During the sacrament, consider how you are truly never going to again snap at Hymnal Sister - shudder - and decide to set sights low at the Telestial Kingdom.

11:16 am - While the Sacrament is being passed, commit the children to visiting you in the Telestial Kingdom someday, and when they make a weird face, demand, somewhat hysterically, "Just promise me, OK?!"

11:30-12:05 pm - Watch the Stake President fall asleep during someone's talk and try to convince 1.0 and 2.0 that he is really sleepy from early meetings and they should not mock him. Inside - hysterically laugh and love that someone else is making a big impression for a change! Pray for him that he will not drool and that he wakes up without a start.

12:07 pm - Be saddened that Heavenly Father wasn't able to actualize your prayer and watch the poor Stake President jump to a start when the organ starts up. Give 1.0 and 2.0 the evil eye so they will not mock him.

12:15-1:00 pm - Make a fool of self by trying to participate in Gospel Essentials class.....that is now, apparently, in Spanish. Construct a note to self to let others know there has been a change, or possibly plan on embarrassing an unsuspecting counselor by asking her to attend in your stead. Think about that long and hard, and decide sometimes things are only really funny in your head.

1:01 pm - Repent again for Hymnal Sister faux pas and wish she could see how funny that was in your head. Decide to really REALLY try to like her on top of love her. Make mental list of her great attributes.

1:02 pm - Stop listing attributes and decide to set up the Relief Society Room.

1:10 pm - Round up sisters from the hall and beg them to come into Relief Society.

1:11 pm - Decide not to take offense at rolled eyes. Assure yourself that sisters get things stuck in their eyes and need to roll them. Pray that their eyes heal.

1:15 pm - Fight counselor to be the one who gets to do the roll for the absentee Secretary. Counselor just got back from vacation - so you get to do the roll. It's the least she can do for you seeing as your life is vacationless.

1:16 pm - Lose out to her about getting to look in all the Primary classes for Relief Society sisters. DRAT

1:16-2:00 pm - Finish Relief Society and just love how great everyone is. Warm fuzzies abound.

2:10 pm - Go to Bishop's office to wait for Ward Council.

2:20 pm - Continue waiting. Realize (and smile, slightly) that everyone loves to talk to the Bishop and be grateful he's such a good guy.

2:30 pm - Sigh loudly and be glad your friend took 1.0 and 2.0 home for you.

2:45 pm - Repent for the loud sigh and rejoice (for the third time on one Sabbath!) that someone brought homemade cinnamon rolls to the meeting. Realize you are fickle. Consider that this is another reason you'll be Telestial Kingdoming it up.

2:46-3:45 pm - Continue repenting. Make a note to self to not complain next time someone says there will be another 5th Sunday lesson about Missionary work.

3:45 pm - Race to counselor's home to grab kids. Share a cinnamon roll with her. Yumalicious!

4:30 pm - Arrive home - make food - wish Mr. Mormon would have sinned and ordered something so you didn't have to cook. Repent. Revisit the idea of sending him to cooking classes.

4:45 pm - Phone calls begin. Field calls...

5:45 pm - Wipe sweat from ear from having plastic shoved against it so long. Be glad the problems aren't yours.

7:00 pm - Finally hang up from calls and race over to a distraught sister's home. Her mother is dying and be so glad yours isn't. Help clean - listen - love her more.

7:55 pm - Make calls on way to 8 pm meeting. Find out counselors cannot come to the meeting. Find out the sister who hasn't been at church in 6 weeks is possibly going to the Mayo Clinic she's so sick.

7:57 pm - Decide not to judge those who 1. Didn't home teach Sick Sister, 2. Didn't visit teach Sick Sister, 3. Said unkind things about why she wasn't at church on Sundays. Continue listening to her while she explains how bad things are. Thank Heavenly Father for your health.

8:10 pm - Finally make it into meeting after sitting in driveway for 10 minutes listening to a crying sister - make about 3,000 Visiting Teaching changes seeing as about 8 families have moved in so far this summer.

11 pm - Thank Heavenly Father for all the new families and hope that it will take the load off of folks.

11:01 pm - Call a distraught sister back to see if she still needs me to come and help her pack.

11:01.5 pm - Be kind of glad she didn't pick up and pray she can get it all done.

11:20 pm - Finally make it home - talk to Mr. Mormon - craft emails about the state of Sick Sister and Mother Dying Sister until midnight.

12:30 am - Crawl into bed knowing I am getting up at 4:40 am to take Mother Dying Sister's family to the airport.

4:10 am - Get woken up extra early by 2.0 and 3.0. 2.0 lost a tooth and needed an audience. 3.0 insisted she was going to be sick and only cookies would help her.

4:11 am - Smile a little knowing that one day - all of this WILL be over and be grateful for all the people who did this before me FOR me!!!!

Pink rooms - everywhere you go!

2008-07-08T03:59:00.000-07:00

1.0 got her room updated. The theme she chose was "girlie boutique" and let me tell you - while I didn't love the process of painting the furniture...I am sure glad I did! It used to be an ugly stained wood brown and now it is sleek and stylish (click on photos to see them giant-ized - you know you want to know what those shapes are on the bed!) My favorite parts are the chandelier (thank you IKEA!) and the shelves on the wall where she showcases her "accessories." It's not easy to see in this spread, but there is black and white polka dot (or "polka dotters" as 3.0 likes to refer to them) ribbon everywhere that I am so in love for.

I decided a theme makes decorating a TON easier, but you have to watch it or you get really silly. At one point, she wanted an old timey cash register to put her jewelry in to complete the look. Wait - that really is cool now the more that I think about it. DANG IT! This kid has better taste than I do!

We framed some Vogue photo spreads on the wall and let me tell you - I love Vogue! It's been a long time since I perused one, but if you love fashion, it's a dream. 1.0 spent more time squirreled away drooling over the pages than she did helping me paint.

Now, off to update 2.0's room. I'm trying to convince her she doesn't want her room to be turrets with dragons popping out of the walls. argh

Rock out with my playlist

2008-07-03T08:49:00.000-07:00

Turn up my tunes and jam while you cut some watermelon and fire up the grill.

You know you love Neil Diamond. And synthesizers.

You'd just forgotten.

Thank me later.

Mama and New Mama bond

2008-07-03T05:38:00.000-07:00

Last night I went to visit my young friend who is 16 (17 next month) who is having a baby.

I don't know where to begin. So, I'll start with the front porch. And the menagerie of plastic animals and garbage in the yard and her biological mother who, along with her boyfriend, live in the shed next to the house but aren't "allowed" to go inside expect to use the restroom.

She let me in - I had been warned she wouldn't - so I was immediately excited. She was warm and gracious and was baking her friend a birthday cake. She is really a darling girl and I told her I've missed her since I got the axe outta Young Women's. We chit chatted a lot and fell into an easy pattern of just sharing and talking.

But it was hard to not notice the filth. Dog feces, ants, rooms filled with junk to the ceiling...but New Mama had "cleaned" (a young person's version of cleaning - ya know?) the living room, family room and kitchen and I could tell her pregnancy enthusiasm was lighting a fire under her to make some changes in her world.

We talked about school and how all of that will work out and she showed me ultrasound pictures. We talked about where she'd live and what she plans to do for money (she plans to become a cosmetologist and make $1300 a week and to live with her dad forever because he will be too lonely without her and he loves kids.)

She believes she and her son can be a success because many of her neighbors were teen mothers who managed to "make it work." She told me she knows she and her son won't be featured on the cover of a Parenting, but she doesn't think that means he can't know he is loved and that she won't be a great mom.

New Mama said to me, "My mom was never really around, but I always knew my dad loved me. We were unconventional, but we made it work and I know I can make it work with my son, too." I wish those types of sentences had been placed in her paragraphs in such a way that I could get a word in to say, "Ahh, but there is so much better! There is a more loving choice..."

There were times I literally did not know what to say. I had prayed for inspiration, but it was hard to get words out through the shock.

She's very much in a baby honeymoon right now. She's got so many books on pregnancy, she's already met with a lactation consultant (she isn't due until November - phew), she has a stroller and car seat and a diaper service all lined up. There are little baby clothes and tiny cowboy boots sitting out. She was absolutely GLOWING about this pregnancy. I think that shocked me. I didn't expect her to be so over-the-moon thrilled. It was hard not to get caught up in her euphoria.

She thinks it can all work. She is very convincing and gets you to believe it too - even as you are staring at a pile of laundry that literally goes to the ceiling. It's hard to love someone so much and be so shockingly appalled at what she thinks will work. Heaven help us all through this. I don't know how she cannot be confused and disoriented, because I am.

I didn't broach the subject of adoption as my main purpose was trying to get to know her again. I am hopeful I will have the chance. I did write this to Mrs. R earlier today.

I am having a greater realization for the magnitude of grace and wisdom and true love that adoption is. I thought I knew. I didn't, really. I'm sure I still can't comprehend it completely, but placing a child for adoption really is love. Buying car seats and play pens and knowing your child will sleep where there is feces on the floor and ants in the dog food.....that's not really the highest exemplification of love.

God bless birth mothers who place their children for adoption. God bless every last one of them.

So - there's the re-cap.

Step One - love the mother and reconnect - check.

Step Two - who the heck knows? More of the same? Share more about adoption. Help her learn to be a mom? Help her clean? Explain how she needs to establish child support through the courts if she keeps this baby like she's planning to. Explain that there will not really be a crutch through this? Teach her how to make nutritious meals (I had to walk her through making a cake from a box yesterday.) Sit back and wait. Take those things in order. I dunno...

BFFs

2008-07-02T08:58:00.000-07:00

Some of you are blogging and posting pictures of the things that are near and dear to your heart. A blog shows the world what you love and what is important to you. And this blog is no different. This is a place for my family to share with you what is precious to us. That said, let me take a moment to introduce you to two of my new best friends who are oh-so important to me.

This is just a candid shot of my girls. They are so much cuter than this in real life! You know, the camera adds 10 pounds…

They do everything with me! These hard-working ladies help me tidy up and listen as I need to get things off of my chest (things like, “Am I the only one in this family who can see the dust bunny and do something about it? Well, apparently I am!”) Some friends listen, but these girls listen - and they offer support. They get right under that bed with me and root around for the funk and the trash with me, all the while, listening to me gripe about it.

And best of all - they help me to be better. They find stuff like this

and this

but they don’t just talk about the filth behind my back. They just get in there with me and help get rid of it. They never gossip about my grunge behind my back and they’re real problem solvers - two of my favorite attributes in a person!

So here’s to you, gals! Seeing as I spend more time with you in a week than I do with half my more-human friends, I thought you deserved a post! Thanks for keeping us clean! Forget the wind beneath my wings - you are (sniff) my 12 amps beneath a plastic case…

Yucky things I would rather do...

2008-06-30T12:02:00.001-07:00

...instead of accompanying 3.0 on her play date.

1. Get my teeth cleaned.

2. Clean my home.

3. Clean someone else's home (depending on the filth factor.)

4. Organize a closet.

5. Organize my food storage.

6. Clean out the kids' art cabinet.

7. Babysit.

8. Take the kids to the beach alone.

9. Clean my carpets.

10. Clean out my car.

11. Clean out the fridge.

12. Call the VT Supervisors and find out why I have no reports, yet this month.

13. Call all the sisters who are struggling and check in on them.

14. Ask the missionaries if they visited the folks I asked them to, and see what they had to say.

15. Steam clean the dining room carpet the dog keeps tinkling on.

16. Speaking of dogs - get them groomed.

17. And pooper scoop the back yard.

18. Weed the flower beds.

19. Paint 1.o's furniture like I promised.

Ohhhh - I could go on and on.

I'm coming to a realization. I just don't love going on play dates for the kids anymore. I am tired of trying to make 3.0 play with other kids when she really just wants to be left alone. I am tired of racing around a park in the 100 degree heat, when usually, I just take my kids, read my book, and go to a land far, far away in my head. I am tired of encouraging 3.0 to be nice when she really wants to shriek. I am tired of disciplining my kid in front of someone I don't know well and then having to make explanations about her crazy behavior. I am tired of keeping a conversation going with someone who is, essentially, a stranger to me, when I have about 3,000 other things to do and I know my kid does NOT want to be here. I am tired of convincing 1.0 and 2.0 that they could indeed get along at the "little kid park" for a couple of hours and not be so self-absorbed.

I fear I've gotten old.

I love meeting new people. But I am tired of play dates. From here on out, I might just say, "Let's go to dinner, OK? Please don't make me make my kid play with yours. PLEASE!"

With my big girls, I realized early on that play groups were not for me. I didn't like the chaos and inevitable fighting, or the tears, and cajoling kids into sharing. Now with 3.0, I have come to the realization that play dates aren't a ton different. The whole time we're "playing" I'm thinking of the slide show I want to be working on for my friend, the gal who is 16 and preggers that I am trying to contact, all the phone calls I need to return (including one to the dance teacher - whatever could THAT be about?), how I am going to get 3.0 to talk more.....my ADD totally kicks in and I can't relax and enjoy the play date.

Park play dates leave me feeling like a referee, a child psychologist, and a sidewalk food vendor all rolled into one.

I really HAVE gotten old, haven't I? I am weak and small-minded and unkind. Sadly, it would appear, in my old age, I have developed issues, my friends....whodda thunk? And the worst part of all of this is knowing I will NOT really skip out on kids' play dates because I want them to grow and learn and have to share and have some friends.

sigh

Dear Homeys,

2008-06-26T08:12:00.000-07:00

Love,

Mama

Now, for the longer, more serious, more mama-fied version.

Thanks for the emails and comments and reasonable advice and for worrying about this young mother with me. Thanks for opening up your hearts and sharing your stories and helping me get a clue on how to help this mom and her child.

Thanks also for your patience as I use the wrong words, say the wrong things, and muddle my way through appropriate adoption/teen mother lingo and sentiment. I am trying to learn!

I think when some folks envision the internet, what often comes to mind are inappropriate pictures, Dateline exposes on child predators, and their cousin who is (unsuccessfully) using eHarmony.

It's too bad that we don't often associate goodness with the Net. I have many anonymous and real life pals who come here and have reached out and have offered assistance and guidance for this tricky situation, as well as many others. And I thank you for your time. I know time is a precious commodity - and I appreciate you giving me, these issues, and these women I serve some of your extra minutes. In my heart, I want every sister's situation to receive my best educated and enlightened attention. Y'all sometimes help make that happen!

Life is a little wonky here at the moment, and if I can't comment quickly, please know I am still very appreciative. I feel like between the Spirit, my family, my insightful and perceptive real-time counselors, and my many e-counselors, I am made better and more fully able to offer assistance to others. Thank you... I hope I can someday pay y'all back - just - ya know - not with cash...because I like to buy stuff...he he he

So here's to you!

Please help your friendly RS President

2008-06-18T04:52:00.000-07:00

No - that little angel is not growing in me.

One of the Young Women in the ward (aged 16, I believe) is now pregnant and unmarried. I got the call late last night that she will probably be moving into Relief Society with us now. I think, provided she will come, that everyone will be wonderful to her. She is a darling girl, really, but has been rather edgy and unkind to the other young people for some time now, and has pretty much quit coming to church for anything but the sacrament. She is still kind and good to the adults - so I think moving up to Relief Society would be a fresh start for her. And we have such a welcoming group, I think she has the potential of fitting in just fine, if she wants to.

I have so many questions on what to do! I am a big fan of adoption, but I hear she has already made the firm decision to keep the child. She might marry the father - who is not a member of our church and also in high school (the girl had dropped out of high school some time ago which was shocking as she had been an Honors student and very high achieving, but I believe now will start taking some GED classes.) Do I ask her about adoption? Do I just listen? So far on that front, the farthest I've gotten is having her (and maybe the dad) over for dinner and to talk. Or maybe lunch out with her and my Presidency? Except, ya know, we'd have all OUR kids in tow...

There is so precious little money in that home - it's just absolute poverty. I know folks will help out with the initial new-baby costs - but what then? Does she understand how expensive and time consuming and life altering this will be? Is it my job to help her see that or to just support her? Or is my job to support her, but confirm the scary realities when she finally observes them? How far do I go? Do I take her to register for baby things when she won't consider adoption or do I just call once a month and ask how she is? (Her mother is - gosh to not go into too much - just horrible to her and will not support her, I don't believe. Her father is a total pushover and a good, good man.)

Our graduating seniors just moved into Relief Society and we made a big fat deal over them their first Sunday with us...there were posters, flowers, balloons - we shared things their families wrote about them and just had a great time that day. Does she slip quietly in the back now? Do I make the same fuss? Do I treat her like a new move in and take a casserole over while I try to get to know her?

Ohh, I could go on and on with my worries for her and for how I'll support her. I'll pray for inspiration. In the mean time, if someone would like to be my inspiration at the moment, I'd be so grateful. Anyone have some real life experience dealing with this situation that you'd like to share?

So bad - so funny

2008-06-13T19:02:00.001-07:00

What are you not sloppy about?

2008-06-13T16:48:00.000-07:00

Tonight, our family had to have

A TALK.

Some little folks's mouths were getting the best of them lately and we've had some issues with typical summer antics. Bossiness, whining, eye rolling and hair tossing, picking fights with sisters - those types of things needed to be addressed now before they got to be too much. Now, I have to say, we have great kids - but even great kids need reminders about what the rules are.

We had a discussion over dinner about some of the unacceptable behavior and we told the kids just how fantastic they really are. Typically, we have kids we can take anywhere and not be embarrassed. They're the kind of kids who when you say, "It's time to leave" they don't whine - they pack up - and they sit by the door patiently waiting while their mom (who talks too much) doesn't shut up for another half an hour. We know how great they are and we just needed to remind everyone of some family rules.

Nearing the conclusion of our discussion, we wanted to be sure they understood why we were talking about these things and we wanted them to know how much we love them. We hoped they'd know that when their behavior and choices are good, we can do so much more as a family. So we said to them, "Do you know why we are telling you these things? Why we're reminding you of the rules and how we need to behave?"

And 1.0 said, "You're telling us this stuff because you don't run a sloppy place."

I loved that line!

In the moment, sloppy parenting is a lot easier. And trust me, I do more than a fair amount of it. I wish I was a better mom - especially seeing as I am married to SuperDad. If I were a better mom, I wouldn't look so pathetic in comparison. But I do appreciate that the kids noticed that we aren't trying to be dictatorial or unkind or overbearing - we're just trying to not be sloppy in our dealings in our family.

I needed that reminder this week - to not be sloppy about what is important in life. Thanks kids!

So, is there/was there anything you refuse(d) to be "sloppy" about? (And my apologies to those who read the other blog. But I thought this might be a good discussion topic!)

Oh. My. Stars

2008-06-07T13:46:00.000-07:00

My favorite is the grandma who sometimes disappears into the flag.

Oh man, I'm dying laughing here....

Summertime!!

2008-06-05T07:24:00.000-07:00

Oh what do YOU do in the summertime? (LDS homeys - crank up the jammin tunes!)

Got any fun summer plans? We're not going anywhere (at least - no where major) and are having the hot new vacay - the Staycation. That's a fancy way of saying we're staying at home, doing nothing.

The kids have a couple of low-key camps and we'll do swim lessons and some things with friends. My big goals for the summer are to help the big girls learn to cook more and to get Annie caught up some for next school year. She'll be reading, writing, and 'rithmetic-ing it up so that we can get some gains made. At least, that is the plan.

Last summer, we didn't have the money to do many fun things and I didn't even get away with my friends like I'd planned to. In some ways, it was rough - don't get me wrong. There was a (snotty, catty, unattractive) disappointment in not having the opportunity to do some fun things. But in time, I did come to enjoy the lack of schedule and routine and how many fun things we got to do that we otherwise would never have. We read tons of books together and then would watch the movies, I achieved THE perfect tan, and we bonded. We played more with the neighbors and had tons of sleepovers and simple, spontaneous parties. I was sad to see my little homeys go to school at the end of vacation. It didn't start off as the summer I'd been dreaming of, but it did end up rather lovely (minus diverticulitis.)

Speaking of having a summer you weren't dreaming of - a little cutie (link below) is having a rough patch. I thought I'd link to her here so that if any of you have experienced something like this, you could share with her. I know when I have experienced trials, it has helped immeasurably to know someone else who has been through it and who can show me the ropes. I didn't know if any of you might have a clue? And I think we all could send warm thoughts her way... http://www.busybeelauren.blogspot.com/

Ok - I'm going to the pool. Last one in is....Marksmomm!!

Can I feng shui with Annie?

2008-06-02T18:48:00.001-07:00

OK Annie - here is my front entryway. Are we carpet twins?

(mama sits with her fingers crossed, and eyes closed, and tries to establish where in her home is the best chi...while she awaits the verdict)

HELP!

2008-05-30T07:05:00.000-07:00

It's the end of the school year here, and ohhh, that's always an adventure! I have been trying to get the house ready for the onslaught of kiddos here 24/7. I like to go into summer pretty organized so that I can be frustrated by the end of day two with the mess the place has become.

This week, I did a quick project to get the stairs looking less disgustingly grimey. I painted the bottom half of the stairs (where little hands most frequently go) a dark color so that it hides more grime and is more wipe-able. It was a quick easy project, provided you have a laser level.

I still need to remove the carpet and finish putting up some more (new) pictures - but those are good summer projects. Summer, children, and nails in the floor are always a good mix!

I'm realizing more and more that I love being a homemaker. That is SO not an avant-garde thing to say and I'm sure feminists everywhere would shudder, but I love making my house feel more comfortable and providing a place where my family can find peace and be a little better. Is that nuts? Perhaps - but it's my nuts and I enjoy doing it.

Oh - but I was going to ask for HELP and I've digressed! I mean, I found a great "help" song to accompany the post and everything - how could I have forgotten?

Riddle me this? It's the end of the school year (you might have remembered me mentioning that a few paragraphs ago) and I've been getting all the end of year teacher's gifts ready. I like to get them nice things that they don't already have around - and NOTHING apple-y. Ohmystars - they are not orchard tenders - they are educators.

And so that stuff is (mostly) set. But what about folks like dance teachers and piano teachers? Do you usually get those individuals things at the end of the year?

I ask because I have always gotten the dance teachers things at the end of the year, and never once have they acknowledged it. No thank you, etc. Am I doing the wrong thing? I notice no one else sends anything in and they look at me like I'm wonky when I do. I'd think they'd come out and say "thanks." The last two years, one of the teachers has told my girls, "Just put that over there."

I don't want to appear ungrateful - I am grateful for the business they provide - but they are being paid (rather handsomely) for their service. And if they seemed like they enjoyed the gifts or eeeeever mentioned it, it'd seem more special. But for now, it seems like a duty and as they aren't ever commenting, I'm wondering - am I off the hook? Or should I downscale? Make cookies or something less pricey? Last year I got them dinner out - the year before, they got pedicures...those are examples of the things I've been getting for them...is that too much? Is that what I'm doing wrong? Am I embarrassing them with the "wrong" types of gifts?

hmmmm - HELP!

(OK - everyone help me FAST because I need to post about the argument at book club and for that post, I need to play my great Kung Fu Fighting song, and I don't want y'all to miss either jammin' tune!)

Just so ya know...

2008-05-28T15:32:00.001-07:00

...I believe things should live up to their names. If you say you are butt paste, I know immediately what you are. Same with carpet cleaner or stain remover. I would expect those things to, respectively, paste my bum, clean my carpet, and remove my stains.

Which brings me to my point that...Fantastik is not so much Fantastick-y.

I was told it was the best stain remover out there. I wondered about that claim, seeing as it doesn't say "stain remover" on my bottle. (Is there another Fantastik?) Perhaps my mother-in-law was smoking crack when she made that claim?

It isn't the best stain remover. In fact, it hasn't gotten a single stain out, yet. And it managed to ruin a shirt. A very high-quality $2.50 Wal-Mart flag tee is now trash, good people.

So, I finally moved Fantastik from the laundry room to the kitchen. I thought surely there, it would live up to its name.

Nope.

It's not Fantastik at cleaning off your range. It's not Fantastik at cleaning the smudges off of your very white fridge. It's not Fantastik at getting grime off the counter.

Folks, it's not even Groovy or Helpful.

It could pass as Marginal.

I just thought I should let the world know.

Don't you wish TV was better?

2008-05-27T05:50:00.001-07:00

I thought I'd let ya know what is ahead for me this week, and that I might not be around. Quit yer sniveling...you'll get through it.

I'm probably no more busy than you are, but I handle it worse.

It's already Tuesday (YIKES!) and I have 2 of my newest Relief Society girlies graduating from high school today, so I need to scoot about and get flowers and goodies to them. That will be fun! Of course it's gymnastics day, so it'll be a tight squeeze to get it all taken care of, but I'm an expert at that.

Tomorrow is our last dance class day of the season - but more importantly - it is BOOK CLUB night! We'll be reviewing Escape (and I still contend that polygamy eerily parallels The Bachelor) and my house is a wreck! So I must clean and make some treats for the shin dig. I also need to figure out what time my book group is meeting. I really must pay better attention to details.

Thursday is back to gym and a host of classmom/church responsibilities to take care of and most importantly - it's the day to get ready for our big, fat, dance recital weekend! WOOHOOO

I don't have the kids' costumes altered, yet (whoopsies) and it'll be one day of rehearsing and one day of recital-ing and a lot of running around and sweating. It's a veeeeeeery long production and I'm planning on moving to the Zen portion of my brain to get through it.

On top of these small things, I still have a calling (and a sister who has to find new housing by this Sunday and she has lost her job - argh!) and working out AND I decided to do something highly religious this week.

In my copious spare time, I decided to re-read The Book of Mormon this week.

What was I thinking?

I've felt snark-y and not very patient with people lately. This is evidenced by my saying to someone about her disdain for her Visiting Teaching route, "We're all big girls and we can do hard things - I believe in you."

Umm, that wasn't probably the answer she was looking for. That was evidenced by her 0_0 (deer in the headlights) face back at me.

I thought that maybe doing something like this would help me feel more peaceful and help me get things in perspective. We'll see. You don't need to tell me that a massage would also bring about peaceful feelings and hurt my eyes less than reading. he he

But I need to get on top of my spiritual game and I think this will help me as it has in the past. I feel a lot of pressure to always be spiritually ready for drama now. This morning, I awoke to a 1:30 am email from a sister asking if I was awake as she needed someone to talk to. I love her and would have been happy to talk to her at 1:30 am about whatever it is, but I was sleeping. Anyhoo - I'm just trying to get at the point that there's never rest from the advice giving/listening ear having aspect of my life, so I need to be prepared.

In (near) conclusion, If I'm not here, I'm probably doing something relating to any of those things - or am enjoying just the general moments of motherhood - like grocery shopping, cleaning the dirt off the ceiling of the guest bath, or explaining puberty to 1.0 (because her friend and cousins didn't do a very thorough job.)

Clearly, you will all be torn up over my absence. I'd suggest watching some TV. But seeing as there are very few good shows on this week, you might be sunk.

In that case, I'd further suggest you recall some old shows you used to love, and relive them in your heart and mind. Now THAT sounds entertaining! Once upon a time, there were so many good shows. Watch them again in your mind's eye...and share here what shows you miss!

Cuz we are living in a material world

2008-05-23T06:18:00.000-07:00

I'll admit it. I like stuff. I'm not really a material girl, but I do love some of my loot. A lot.

I have some jewelry that I love. I mean LOVE love. I got a ring a while back that all the kids knew about and kept a secret and I often wear it instead of my wedding ring. I love it because it was gotten for me by everyone and it was a total shock. Oh, and I love it because it is gorgeous. It's a favorite possession of mine. An equally favorite possession is the giant jewelry armoire it goes in. Thanks, Mr. Mormon!

I have many pieces of children's art that are treasures to me. I have my kids' art all over my home and some of it is even framed and hanging on the walls. Kid art is candy coated preciousness to me. I'm staring at a red paper plate crab now, complete with googly eyes, that I think should be in the Met.

I also love my car. My friend calls it KIT from Knight Rider because it can do anything. She got upset one day when *I* messed up and used the wrong voice command and it didn't reinterpret what I meant and do it anyway. She said it should have read our minds - he he. Anyway - I love its blackness and shininess and sun roofs and how the OnStar folks call me Mr. Hillis. I love me some sun on my head - at least when there is air conditioning blasting on my face.

So - why am I sharing this? I was thinking - if I had to choose a prized possession, what would it be? My scriptures I've had for 10 years that have traveled all over with me and are well marked and falling apart and have seen me through lots of trials? My dining room table that I think has the smooshiest chairs out there? My hammered aluminum lovingly given to me by family members that makes me so happy every time I put appetizers on it?

I guess overall, my most prized possession (and of course, I'm excluding relationships and people from this category) is probably my home in its entirety. Does that count as one possession? Or have I broken the rules? But, while my home isn't perfect, it makes me happy and all the little things in it have a lot of meaning to me.

And if we deem that one can't claim one's home in its entirety as a favorite possession, then, I guess I'm an equal opportunity lover of all my stuff and have no favorite. I don't want them to get jealous of each other and wreak havoc one day when I step out. Ya know?

Care to share? What is your prized possession? Do you have one? Do you care? Are you so un-materialistic, you are embarrassed by my wanton love of stuff? (If you are - then you must not have known me for long! har!!!)

Ruh-roh

2008-05-22T17:15:00.000-07:00

Rah rah Ree

I hope a pound came off of me!

Rah rah RAAH

Instead I'm saying waaaaaaaaaah!

I've eaten salads for lunch most days. I've exercised every day but one. I chose healthier snacks - or none at all. I've consumed enough water to flood a New Orleans levy. I did have some peanut butter one night after 7 pm. Sue me.

So far, I have felt hungry more often than not. And I've successfully gained 2.5 pounds.

Even I have to laugh. And don't start the whole, "I'm sure it's muscle" stuff - we both know that's a lie. I didn't gain 2.5 pounds of muscle in a couple of days. Thanks for trying, though! The entire thing makes me snicker at myself.

Clearly, I will have to listen to my theme song more frequently as I'm not giving up, yet!

Oh-oh-oooooh muffin top...

you'll always be

o'er the top of my jeans!

Bad old muffin top.

Muffin top Mormonyyyyyyyyyy

Once again - pause my player and laugh!

2008-05-22T06:35:00.001-07:00

Even I have standards

2008-05-19T12:38:00.000-07:00

I like some reality TV. Specifically, Project Runway and Dancing With the Stars have captured my heart. I was a huge fan of The Mole - a game wherein the contestants have to figure out who among them is sabotaging their capture of the grand prize - and am looking forward to its revival. (I also like Real Housewives of New York City, but would probably deny that when not under the cover of anonymity.)

I like smart reality TV. Or at least, reality TV that does no harm. Ok - reality TV that doesn't do significant harm.

Then, there's The Bachelor. aie yie yie

I have never watched The Bachelor on the pure principle that it's demeaning. Self-respecting women line up for a chance to woo someone. Aren't we past that place in our history?

Last week, I caught the end of The Bachelor. I was channel surfing and got to witness the grand proposal. The Bachelor was oh-so-romantic. He used her full name....."Monkey." Oh yes he did! He said (this is nearly an exact quote), "Monkey, will you marry me?" sniff - who could say no to such a romantic proposal? (I have to wonder if he actually knew her name, what with all his dalliances...)

I've been thinking about why this show bugs the tar out of me. I'm not exclusive with high-minded television; certainly Project Runway isn't making the world a better place. And I'm a pretty silly girl. I love to laugh about most anything and I don't take myself too seriously. One might think the ridiculousness that is The Bachelor would be right up my alley.

But I do take the place of women in the world pretty seriously. So many women have spoken up and spoken out against being treated like a piece of meat. And here we have a gaggle of girls all competing for arranged dates with a man that producers tells them is "a keeper." Ladies living in a house competing for one man's attention...grown women sniping at each other over a guy's affections...

Puh-lease.

I just finished reading this book.

I take autobiographies/memoirs with a grain of salt. But if half of what this woman wrote is true, her life was rather horrific. She spent much of her life trying to escape a polygamous cult.

She risked her life to leave a culture where her marriage was arranged by someone who told her this man was "a keeper"...to escape ladies living in a house competing for one man's attention...to escape grown women sniping at each other over a guy's affections...

I'd love to have a woman who has escaped a polygamous cult marriage talk to these bachelorettes. Just for an hour.

Mama's miracle!

2008-05-15T10:14:00.000-07:00

I do not desire to be graphic. But I experienced a miracle today and I need to share it with the world.

Move over Jackie Oh - you're not the only one having some miracles.

Picture it.

the Mormon master bathroom

It's the morning. Dawn's early light is peeking through my tasteful wood blinds with goldenrod curtains.

I, Mama, hop on my slim, white WeightWatchers scale to see if I have miraculously lost 20 lbs over night. (A girl can dream.)

sigh - no such luck

Now - picture a disheartened Mama shuffling to the potty.

At this point, you might want to halt the visualization.

After a most discreet and genteel tinkle, I re-weighed myself before popping into the shower. And WHATTHEMONKEY? I'd lost a pound.

A pound of tinkle? Clearly, this was a Mormon miracle. I have to share it with the wooooooorld.

He's baaaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaack!

2008-05-13T17:17:00.000-07:00

Isn't the backyard lovely? Gotta love life in Florida...a happy little spring day...

Oh - now what do I think I spy with my little eye? Could it be?

Our little gator is back. Can you spy him? He's on the ground a bit to the left of the tree with his head looking at the water. Right after I took this shot, he spooked and went into the water, so I couldn't get y'all a better peek.

When I came back home this afternoon, I was looking for him again and couldn't find a gator, but right where he was, I did spy this little family. I wonder if they know their neighbor next tree over is a gator. Should I tell them? (It's hard to see here, but the sandhill cranes have 2 babies. sniff)

Sing it with me!

2008-05-13T15:58:00.000-07:00

Oh-oh-oooooooh
Muffin top!

You'll always be - over the band of my jeaaaaaaaans!

Bad old muffin top...

Muffin top Mormon-yyyyyyy

Muffin top Mormon-yyyyyyy-yyyyyy

I can't stand it anymore. I'm losing all the weight I've gained with this calling. Starting NOW.

Well, actually, starting yesterday, if we're going to be technical about it.

After I cleaned all that dust out of the exercise room, you'd've thought I would have stuck with working out. You'd've been right, too! But 1.0 kicked me with her boot (oh yes she did! Anger management classes are clearly in the child's future) and knocked my perfect pedicured tootsie's nail off.

Ergo, no sneakers for this Mormon.

But I tried working out again yesterday and it went well. I'm fighting shin splints fierce, but while that's a pain, I always perk myself up when I realize I have shin splints because I have seriously great calf muscles that are stronger (and more attractive) than my front-of-the-leg-muscles (whatever those wimps are called.) I worked on them for a long time (the whats-er-name muscles) and hope to show them who is the boss within a few days.

I got to my lowest weight of adulthood after I had 3.0 and I'm headed there again, homeys. I have been so stressed out about everyone in the ward's life dramas, I find myself eating and eating and eating while I worry. And I was having trouble finding time to work out - it seemed everyone needed a piece of my day.

But things are calming down and I've found an hour a day I can get working out done.

I know I'll never be thin - I love food too much. But I want to feel better.

I'm also back on my strict "No food after 7 pm" rule. That was a great help last go round, but it's so dang hard. But it helps keep food out of my choppers for at least 12 hours a day. Most folks' dramas seem to happen at night and they want to talk to their handy dandy Relief Society President, but I'm just going to stay awaaaaay from the Sara Lee during those hours.

I decided to treat myself to a pedicure for every 2 weeks that I stick with my daily working out. That way I'll have great toes AND a less-jiggly bum. I gave myself an advance pedi today as incentive. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

My goal is to run a 5K within a year from now. I totally have the endurance - it's the flocking shins (those great calves of mine are such a curse!) I am hoping by announcing my goal here, I will, well, STICK TO IT! :) A ton of gals in my ward keep doing triathlons and while I wish I could muster the enthusiasm to join them, I just can't. I am just not interested in doing that, but I would like to really challenge and stretch myself somehow more physically. We'll see!

Bye bye Muffin Top

And not from buying fatter jeans...

Not from buying fatter jeaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaaaaans!

I took a ride in the relaxi taxi!

2008-05-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

That's a picture of Yours Truly chilling out in bed after a calm, easy, completely enjoyable Mother's Day. Life is gooooooooooood...

That's right! In spite of vomit and a Visiting Teaching Conference that we catered yesterday, it was a relaxing, enjoyable day. Mr. Mormon did a great job of keeping me cool, calm, and collected, and helped make it a lovely holiday. There were great gifts, he made dinner (HUGE!) and even kept the kids out of my hair for my marathon phone call with Jackie Oh.

He's a good boy.

So Mr. Mormon - here are a few song tracks for you! And here's a kiss, too - pucker up!

In case you thought I was kidding...

2008-05-11T05:51:00.000-07:00

...I'll have you know 3.0 has puked not once but twice this Happy Mother's Day.

The curse lives on.

But that's pretty low-key for one of my Mother's Days. I'm still awaiting the anvil on my head.

Update - make that 3 times on the puking.

You know it's time to be released...

2008-05-10T18:02:00.000-07:00

...when your VT Coordinator tells you her lesson is entitled The 6 Be's of Visiting Teaching and you then feel compelled to make this.

Somebody, help me stop the madness. The bees are complete with stingers.

weep

Next thing you know, I'll be wearing ankle length denim skirts, looking forward to Super Saturday, and telling people, "I appreciate ya!"

I'm weak, I tell ya. Weak, weak, weak....

A kind and loving Mother's Day breakfast

2008-05-10T17:01:00.001-07:00

Today was our Second Annual Mother's Day Breakfast for Mama's Mama and Mr. Mormon's Mama. Ohh - we spoiled them rotten with kindness on this most lovely day.

4 M (aka "Jackie Oh" and "Mama's Mama" ) and 5 M (Mr. Mormon's Mama) were welcomed by a handcrafted sign, prepared specially for the day by 2.0. Clever little child.

Then, 3.0 escorted each guest to the table which had been lovingly set by 1.0, complete with place cards and fresh flowers. Nothing but the best for our 4 and 5 M!

Next it was time for food. We had menus prepared for the Ms to review, and 1.0 and 2.0 were their waiters. Peruse the house specialties for yourself!

Welcome to the Happy H-name Harvest

The history of Mother's Day - a la Mormon

2008-05-09T05:25:00.000-07:00

I have a history of bad Mother's Days. It's not Mr. Mormon's fault. It's my fate. My destiny. I am doomed to have bad Mother's Days. Luckily, I still really love being a mother and realize it's not about the day. And now I know just to brace for the badness.

I know you're thinking, "Oh Mama - don't be mama-dramatic. How bad could your Mother's Days be?"

Let me tell ya.

There was the year my eardrum ruptured on Mother's Day. I took myself to the emergency room all night and there were toe nails on the floor. The doctor had me remove all my clothing for my ear check. Then, telling me it was too late to do anything, gave me medications that caused my blood pressure to go through the roof and land myself back in the doctor's office. (I also got to have a tube up my nose that occasion. I had the joy joy joy joy up my nostril - up my nostril - up my nostril.....)

There was the year I was on bed rest for Mother's Day. Oh, that was fun. That day was toilet plunger Sunday, as well.

There was the year this happened, too. Here is a journal entry I found about last Mother's Day. Re-live the joy with me!

Mother's Day a la puke

I woke up on Mother's Day and immediately panicked looking at the clock. Everyone was still asleep - and it was less than an hour before we had to leave for church. ARGH

I hopped in the shower, dried my hair, threw on a robe, and made breafkast for 2 miniMormons. And that's when it got ugly.

Miniest had gotten sick and it was eeeeeeeverywhere. I called down for Mr. Mormon to help me, and he took a couple of minutes getting there as he was finishing putting on his suit. So up comes a handsome, well-dressed, fully cologned man to help clean puke. At least someone was ready for church on Mother's Day.

I got Miniest in the tub and Mr. Mormon stripped sheets. Then I had to race downstairs to work on non-pukers' church hair. I got them settled and organized and shipped 3 of my family members off to church without a mother on Mother's Day.

0_0

Then, it was back to Puker. Got her cleaned and dressed and decided I was still going to make myself look cute on Mother's Day as, heck, I'd bathed and that was half the battle! I just needed to flat iron my hair and get some clothes on and this day wasn't going to be all shot to heck. Gosh, it wasn't even 8:30 am - plenty of time for greatness still!

So I started the laundry for Miniest and took her to my bathroom to do both of our hair. I turned away for one smidgey tiny second and Miniest (for the first time EVER) grabbed my flat iron.

Ohh - the scream of pain!

QUICK! Rush Miniest to the fridge and get an ice bath going for the burn. On the way, I stopped in the other bathroom to grab some Tylenol for her and got her well-doped for both of our peace.

Once the screaming was relatively reduced, I thought we'd snuggle on the sofa and I'd hold her and let her watch some TV as a diversion while I waited for some of her (disgusting) laundry to finish. We settled down, I had her all bundled up and snuggly, propped on the extra soft pillows (with not 1, not 2, but 3 chenille blankets surrounding her, arranged to her exact specifications) when....buuuuuuuuuuuurp. Out comes the Tylenol.

What kind of mother am I to give a puker Tylenol? ARGH

We head straight to the laundry room, and now, I've been puked on, so I have to carefully peel off my robe and her (once lovely white) dress and unwrap her from all the blankets and pillows, all the while, keeping the hand IN the ice water. While going through all of this, I realize, heck - at least the first load of puke laundry is ready for the dryer! As I'm working on her and trying to figure out how to move the washing machine laundry to the dryer with the least amount of pukage touching moiself, I hear a strange noise coming from the family room.

Puker is settled enough she can sit tight for a minute and off I run - nekid mind you because my robe had been puked on - to find the source of the bizarre noise. Ahhh - it wasn't an intruder or a rogue tornado racing toward my home! It was just the dog having an epileptic seizure on the floor, spewing more body fluids about for me to clean up.

Realizing I couldn't do a lot for the dog and now hearing shrieks of pain and misery coming from the laundry room, I left the dog to her agony, promising to clean her up in a few minutes. I did ask her why she couldn't have seized on the tile, but realized she was probably too occupied to have thought of that.

I got the wet laundry moved, the new laundry started, Puker calmed and re-tubbed, and I went back to the dog (Ok, still nekid, if you must know.) I helped her outside (yes, nekid - sigh) and began pretreating the carpet and NOW I got some clothes on. While getting dressed, I gave up on the hair and threw the flat iron back in the cabinet.)

I cleaned the carpet, cleaned the dog, and finished re-washing Puker, but this time I left her in a diaper. See I'm no dummy! Back to the sofa for resumed cuddling/TV watching. ahhh

It was about this time that Miniest Mormon saw the Tylenol dropper and wanted to play with it. No problem, I thought. She would take the 1.5 mL dropper, put it in her ice water bath, and then drink from the dropper. This is not something you or I might do (it's gross, frankly), but I didn't see much harm in it - and thought it would be a good test to see if she could keep tiny bits of liquid down.

She couldn't.

It was back to the shower for me after this hurl-fest (by way of the laundry room, of course!) Luckily, the dryer was now done, so I could get those things out and, gosh, wear them for the day as I'd first intended! Puker needed a new diaper, and all of those were upstairs - so we went up there, changed her, and cleaned that tub of its vomitous remains. A few minutes later, I was back downstairs cleaning the sink where I had had to sponge bathe her post-third-puke.

Downstairs, the dog had another seizure, this time in the laundry room and she cut her face doing it. There was blood eeeeeeeverywhere. I Florence Nightengaled-ed her up and it was now time to clean those throw rugs (eww!), take everything off the floor in there (ironing board, vacuums, etc.) and run the Scooba.

By this point, Miniest can handle no more no-Mama, so it's back to burn duty and huge amounts of cuddling.

And as we cuddled, all I could think was....Happy Mother's Day!

With my track record, I'm clearly doomed to have an anvil drop on my head this year. It was nice knowing ya! It truly is the best job in the world and no matter what happens that day, I do love being a mom. Happy Mother's Day, homefries!

Because I love to make Mr. Mormon laugh

2008-05-08T14:52:00.000-07:00

Life is short. Pause the player (below) and giggle with us...

2008-05-08T14:32:00.000-07:00

I love music, yes I do.

I love music, how 'bout you?

One of the best BEST BEST things about bloggging is adding the jammin' tunes. I love to find a song to match my mood, my post, or one of my fellow blogger's sentiments.

To date, my favorite musical blog addition was when I added Staying Alive after Jackie's most unfortunate hospitalization. Oh man, did I laugh at that one. Although, I do believe, Jackie is not "a woman's man", but you still got the point.

It seems I regularly have a "theme song" for my life. My theme song will often change (what can I say? I'm fickle.) I find myself regularly humming the hymn The Time is Far Spent as I race about town trying to get all of life done. It seems appropos of late, especially the last verse.

Be fixed in your purpose,

for Satan will try you;

the weight of your calling he perfectly knows.

Your path may be thorny, but Jesus is night you;

His arm is sufficient, tho demons oppose.

Care to share? Do you have a theme song for your life? At the moment, what tunes are speaking to your sooooul? Be it funky fun, silly-ness, or something more transcendent, share away.

Blessed peace!

2008-05-06T15:27:00.000-07:00

Long, long day.

Rude kid. Boogers. Coughs.

Teacher Appreciation Week

(need I say more after that line?)

Trapped in Target.

Will this calling ever end?

But tonight.

Blessed, peaceful tonight.

aaaaahhhhhh

Dancing With the Stars

100th episode

Judges will reveal their favorite 10 dances of all seasons.

I'm sure to see Julianne Hough again!

1.0 and 2.0 will be at church. 3.0 will be in bed.

Ohhhhhh yeaaaaaaaaaah.

SMOOCHES!

Mama's Product Endorsements

2008-05-05T09:14:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wander down the detergent aisle wondering if something else would be more Fantastik in getting your stains out?

Ever watch those late night informercials and ponder if the Ronco rotisserie is truly worth your hard earned dollars?

Sometimes, do you think, "I could probably look this item up in Consumer Reports and find out its rating, but I'm way too lazy"?

If you answered yes to any of the above, you have come to the right place. I've decided to periodically evaluate some products and report in on their value here in the Mormon homestead. Products will be rated in terms of miniMormons with 5 miniMormons being the highest rating anything can receive.

Here, at What the Monkey, we pride ourselves in, well, not a lot because, as we all know, pride cometh before the fall. But if we were to be proud of something, it would be of our policy of inclusion. Ergo, please feel free to share your product endorsements, as well. If you hated a product this Mormon has endorsed, you are probably wrong, but it's still important you get that off your chest and shed new (albeit possibly misguided) light on the subject.

And now - without further ado - some endorsements...

1. Scotch-Brite Stainless Steel Cleaner (refill pads)

I grabbed these pads not realizing there is this entire system one should purchase to more systematically clean the stainless steel. These pads are meant to accompany a "unique handle" that (I am supposing) will make the job all the easier. oopsies

Nonetheless, the pre-moistened pads rock! They leave a great shine on my garbage can and they have a fresh, lemony smell. Oooh la la. LOOOVE it. They are expensive-ish and there are only 6 in a pack, but seriously, my garbage can looks impressive. I'd say you could eat off of it, but that doesn't sound like a really ringing endorsement.

I give Scotch-Brite Stainless Steel Cleaner (with no unique handle) - 4 miniMormons!

2. Scrubbing Bubbles Fresh Brush Flushables

If you're like me, you're often thinking there HAS to be a better way to clean a toilet. And other than refraining from using the home commode and visiting the service station down the road every night, I'm reasonably sure there's not a way to make this a joyous and simple experience. (And it's not technically joyous to go to the service station, so I shouldn't have used that example, really.)

But there are products that will make the cleaning less wretched.

One such product are Fresh Brush Flushables. They make it possible for you to take a quick swish about the bowl, flush the gross away, and get on with life. They are best accompanied by those flushable Clorox Wipes-type thingys, so that you can clean your seat, clean the bowl, and have no evidence (because who really wants trash in the bathroom trash can?)

I enthusiastically give the Fresh Brush Flushables - 4.5 miniMormons!

3. T. Marzetti Asiago Peppercorn salad dressing

If you love a creamy, peppery salad dressing - this one is for you. Ohmystars - it's yummy. It's uber yummy. It's a yum flavor fest. And on top of all of that, it was voted 2006 Dressing of the Year by The Association for Dressings and Sauces. (Shut up! And here it is in my lil' ole house!)

I serve this dressing a lot and it has been beloved by everyone. Or at least, they didn't choke or gag on it. You'll find it in the store near the bags of fresh spinach and lettuce - not on the salad dressing aisle - as it is refrigerated. With no glutton and no preservatives - how can you go wrong?

I give T. Marzetti's Asiago Peppercorn Dressing - 5 miniMormons!! The highest honor I can confer!

At this time, I have decided not to berate any products, but am saving that for the future when I need to get some frustrations out. Be afraid poor products!

Now, anyone care to share some of your favorite cleaning products or foods? Go for it!!

Turn up the tunes and BOOGEY

2008-05-05T07:33:00.001-07:00

I have nothing insightful to share at the moment, but I have received complaints from some of you that I have not updated in a few days. I am busy homeys, but in the meantime, to keep you occupied I have...

1. Added a new tune for your listening pleasure. Because yes - it's always all about you. And I'm a giver. So I gave you a new tune.

The best thing about that song is the typewriter rhythm accompaniment. Looooove it.

It's OK to chair boogey to Nine to Five. It's the Net - we can't see you doing it. And even if we could see ya, we probably don't even know your real name. DANCE!

2. I will now give you a brief but cute 3.0 story.

This morning, 1.0 and 2.0 were playing that they were hurling off golf balls. Before they'd hit the ball, they'd say, "Fooooooore!"

Here's an exact recounting!

1.0 Fooooooooore!

2.0 Fooooooooore!

1.0 Fooooooooore!

2.0 Fooooooooore!

3.0 Ooooooooooooooooooone!

We all giggled. She probably thinks we are the ones who need Special Ed pre-K at this point. And she's probably right. Frankly, we are known to have brain damaged people in this family.

Have a great day all and stay tuned for an exciting edition of Mama's Product Endorsements, coming up next! (After I make some compassionate service deliveries, take a shower, and get a kid off to school...)

Stumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen...

2008-05-02T07:01:00.001-07:00

...pour myself a cup of ambition

and yawn and stretch and try to come to liiiiiife.

Hold that thought while I back up a smidge.

Jackie Oh's traumatic event of tragedy certainly was, well, tragic and traumatizing. It wasn't cool and I don't envy her recovery process and doctor's appointments.

But leave it to me to make band aids out of latex. I've made some all-new-life-changing-revolutionary decisions since Jackie's unfortunate hospital incarceration.

Namely, I cut a bunch out of my life.

No more volunteering in each kid's class one day a week. No more SAC committee secretary-ing. I told the Ward Music Chairman to please just, well, leave me the heck alone. No accompanying, soloing, or anything like unto it. I didn't resign as class mom, but I did make the announcement of what I am willing to do the rest of the year - no more - and other folks can just step it up. I dropped out of carpooling with another mom (who, in actuality, just had me picking her kid up every day and never contributed) and overall, have just cut back a ton.

It feels GREAT!

A little boring, but GREAT!

OK, more than a little boring, but still great.

Great-ish.

Like, more great than bad, but not like super duper great.

Let's be honest - it's a smidge dull.

The calling is still insane, but I need a life other than that calling or I'm just horrid to deal with.

And the truth is, I don't want to go back to being class mom thrice over and volunteering at the school like crazy and going back to secretary-ing it up for the SAC committee - I really don't want to return to those stressors. The very thought gives me acid flashbacks. (OK, I never took acid, but work with me, people.)

It's not that any of the things I was doing were bad. They weren't. I was just sick of them. And I am looking for all new adventures to be sick of now.

But I would like to do a little something.

So yesterday, I got an email, possibly offering me a job. And I think it sounds perfect.

A new charter school is opening up right near where Mr. Mormon works. It focuses on science and is well-established in South Florida, but this is its first school where I live. They are looking for folks to comprise a school governing board. The board will do everything from approving teacher selection (and administrator selection as well, I believe) to budget allocations/approvals, etc.

I was nominated for the position by the principal of my big girls' school and by a personal friend. Apparently, they are looking for someone on the board who meets the demographic of those they expect to have in the school (a parent who works in the research park where the school will be located - which, my husband does), someone who is familiar with how a school works and the legislation that governs it (which serving on SAC did for me), who has worked with children extensively (hello - PRIMARY!), blah blah blah.

Anyway, I've met the requirements and will have a phone interview soon. The man in charge said he was surprised in a county as big as mine to have heard the same name twice, so he knew he had to contact me. I was HONORED! I was told I pretty much had the job IF I wanted it - but they had heard I had recently cut back on all my commitments, so they hoped I'd still consider them. (he he) My commitment would involve once to twice monthly evening meetings, and then lots of reading at home so that quick, informed decisions can be made about the school at the meetings.

It will also mean professional attire at said meetings. :)

I'm excited to find out more. YAY I know I'm the token mommy-contribution to an otherwise professional board, but someone had to take one for the team.

I had hoped to start a little lunch delivery business when 3.o started school, and was pretty excited about that. But this is something I can do now that will be a lot less labor intensive for me, and hello - I get to wear cute clothes for it! SCORE!

Jealous

2008-04-27T18:00:00.000-07:00

Ask around. I'm not the jealous type.

I have green tendencies at times, but they're really pretty rare. Every few years, I'm guessing. I don't covet people's diamonds or homes or cars or children. That's not to say I don't have a tremendous number of other foibles - because I do. I really am a rotten, stinking person - I just don't suffer from jealousy a lot.

But homeys - I am going to admit something. I'm feeling jealous right now.

For a long time, I've enjoyed the music of Wicked. The girls and I dance around to it and looooove it. We know all the words.

This year, Jackie Oh and I read the book. Frankly, it's a smutty, trashy, yuck that she and I both put down more times than I can recall. I thought it was vile. I couldn't reconcile how such wonderful music could have sprung from such a pervy book. Still, I read on, because I was convinced I was going to see the play.

I had hoped to surprise Jackie with a pair of tickets for her and I to go and see it. Ohhh, I tried to get tickets. I tried and tried and tried. As soon as they were on sale, I spent half a day clicking and clicking and entering codes and waiting for best available seats - and the best deal I could find were tickets at $154 a person. And that price was before all the fees, taxes, and mandatory pre-paid $20 for the parking garage.

Needless to say, I am not taking Jackie. We suffered through the book for nothing. The sexual exploits of puppets - a husband and wife cheating on each other with the same man - yup - I read it all and skimmed what I could hoping somewhere in the text, it would tie in to the beautiful music I love.

It never did and I wish I could Clorox my brain out.

So - big deal, right? I'm not going. I'll just have left in my brain the rotten stinking book and someday I'll forget.

Except... Everyone I know is going. People who are broke, are going.

People who are students and don't work, are going.

People who have been in jail this year, are going.

People who are divorcing their spouse, are going. (With each other!)

People who complain they hate the theater, are going.

EVERYONE IS GOING BUT ME!

WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

I keep asking the theater-goers if they have read the book. I haven't met a one who has read the book, yet.

And I wouldn't be so bitter, but I read that horrible book anticipating going - am not getting to go - and have that filthy book stuck in my brain! And no one else has the filth in their head AND they are going to hear the beautiful music.

What I learned from this is that I will never again read smut. OK - never is a long time, but not any time in the foreseeable future are smut and I going to hook up. I'm getting too old. I'm a prude. And in the end, what're the chances you'll get tickets to the musical after you endured the smut? Low chances, my friends. Loooow chances.

There. I got that off my chest. I'll carry on with my other vices now and leave jealousy behind.

Yours truly,

Elphaba

Water park observations

2008-04-26T15:57:00.001-07:00

Today, our family went to a new water park in our city. It was a blast. It was 2.0's birthday gift/party and a good time was had by all.

As usual, my favorite activity was people watching. I could people watch all day if loitering weren't so frowned upon. And when I watch folks, I try to learn from their successes and, well, their foibles. And no doubt, they mine!

So here are some of Mama's Musings. Feel free to chime in.

1. Chubby-butted girls of America - hear me out. I am one of you. I love the donut, too. And we should not be ashamed of our bods. Nosireebob.

But cuties, we must be prudent. There are swimsuits in our size that we should never wear. When we are, say, 450 pounds, we should, possibly pass on the two-piece swimsuit.

Particularly, the skimpy, two-piece swimsuit.

Particularly the skimpy, two-piece swimsuit that falls off in the wave pool.

I believe in you! I know you can find something sexy and large. Don't stick to just Wal-Mart. It's time to google, darlings.

2. Speaking of my larger angels...I know, ladies, it can be hard to find a great suit. Something fun that offers plenty of support and coverage and smooths out the parts that need smoothing - whew - it can be tricky. I know that!

But let's not just go in the water in, oh, say, a white t-shirt with no bra on underneath, and some shorts.

See - believe this or not! - the rest of us are going to be able to see through that shirt when it gets wet.

Now, we're not going to mock you for this mistake now, but let's try not to do that again, K?

3. Let's just get this out there in the open.

Men. Back hair. Some of you have it. Some of you have a lot of it.

A lot lot.

OK - it's not your fault! Blame your parents. But let's consider some removal processes.

This might not be for everyone - I get that. But for those of you who let your children sit on your back and braid it and put it in pony tail holders, it might be time to think about, gosh, even just a trim. Take an inch or so off the top.

I'm just saying...

4. Seeing as I've now captured my dude audience, let me just share this. Women - you feel free to say it along with me.

man

who

likes

girls

looks

good

Speedo.

Evah.

Not when they are little boys - not when they are old - not when they are slim - not in the right kind of lighting....just plain never.

I could elaborate on the giant disservice it is doing for y'all, but I will take the high road. Don't kill the messenger my friends. It seemed like a good idea. It wasn't. Don't make this bigger than it is - just live and learn - live and learn.

5. Tevas. Let's face it. These are insanely ugly shoes. You know it - I know it - your feet know it. Your feet weep when you pull those bad boys out.

But let's not add insult to injury, good people. There's no need to have Tevas AND toes that look like this.

Ultimately, I'd like to see you have neither, but, I will concede that perhaps I am in the wrong and Tevas' 1995-beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I should shut up. But I stand firm on this - there's no reason to have severely funky toes AND Tevas. Choose you this day - fungi nails OR overly strapped, velcro-ed monstrosities.

Not both.

5. Bathing suits are for covering body parts. Not exposing usually hidden ones.

So, when you are spilling out of your top, it might be time to get a new suit. Clearly, your dryer did something horrible to your suit - it is not your fault. But it is your responsibility to hide your parts from us.

Think of it as a game. You hide your parts and we, ummm, well, we'll work on that part of the game at a later date.

I know - I know - in Europe, it's all good. But sadly, we're here. Bummer. Now put the ta-tas away. Because when you don't, it makes 3.0 say, "I see big, strong boobies!"

And while that is insanely funny to me, when you get all persnickety about it, you're just ruining all the best giggles.

There ya have it. Just a few of Mama's Musings about water parks. Now, do you care to share?

Life in paradise

2008-04-22T16:22:00.000-07:00

It's pretty good living in Florida. It's lovely a lot of the year. The clothes here are great. I was just reflecting on that a couple of days ago, in fact. You can wear cute flip flops and sandals all year and that makes my feet oh-so-happy. Style-wise, anything goes and it's fashionable to be fashionable. Sure, it gets hot down here - but there's a pool every few feet. It's always green and gorgeous and there's continually something in bloom to make you smile.

Yup - life here is pretty good.

Minus, ya know, the bugs. And, the ummm, gators. The gators that flock to my yard are especially pesky. Yeah, I said gatorS. Plural. Because there's another dang gator out there right now!!!

I was just chittering chattering with Jackie Oh today when I spotted Stripey. I thought he was pretty big, but on second glance, I think he's more like a 4-5 footer. He's still stripey, so I think that means he's a baby. But he's a BIG baby. I never remember seeing one this big still striped.

If I'm going to have another pet gator on our pond, I SO better not get hit with a hurricane this year.

Above is a picture of our last gator neighbor. I'll try to get a picture of the newbie tomorrow.

Visiting Teaching

2008-04-21T17:32:00.000-07:00

I ran into my friend today. On Sunday, she'll be set apart as her ward's Relief Society President.

Like me, her husband is in the Bishopric (mine is second counselor - hers is first.) We both have 3 young children at home. Both of us had been serving (happily!) in Primary before this call.

She had called me last week to talk about it, but I was out of town. She's in a different stake now (she was my Primary President predecessor - crazy parallel lives), and it's good to have a Relief Society President-friend in a different stake to bounce ideas off of. She had a lot of questions and I didn't have a lot of answers, but we chatted and cried and explored the scariness and happiness of it all. We talked about the joys of seeing folks work through their problems and the many blessings that come with the calling.

I told her Visiting Teaching is the KEY to a smooth running Relief Society and remembered our hysterical Visiting Teaching movie! C-Dawg, St. Counselor and I showed this movie at our Visiting Teaching interviews last October. Before your interview, you watched this movie, ate some chocolate, filled out paperwork, laughed, cried, and bonded with your sisters.

As I was emailing this movie to my newest Presidential sister, I thought I'd share it with y'all, too. I hope it makes you laugh and maybe inspires you a little...

(Oh, and for what it's worth, I highly recommended blogging your worries away to my friend. I told her how kind many of y'all have been to me and she laughed. I laughed too, but I was serious about how thankful I am of having my own cyber Relief Society.)

Sometimes, it's best to be out of town

2008-04-20T06:48:00.000-07:00

Well homefries, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack.

Did y'all check out our sweet digs (featured above?) We know how to live!! I wasn't sure it would float, but it did and we had a blast!

It was a great time bonding with Drama-o and Captain Jack. We're all a little browner and a little more rested and totally not ready to deal with real life. In a tribute to Hemingway (we were in Key West, after all) I'll let Drama share our little gem, The Pea Coat and the Sea.

Speaking of real life, I am not at all sad to have missed out on home life for 6 days while I was gone. See - 3.0 got some sort of creeping crud that eventually landed her in the pediatrician's office with a 104 fever. The same day, 1.0 was complaining that her throat hurt, so at the last minute, she escorted Grandma and 3.0 to the doctor's office. While there, the female doctor (who Mother-in-law was sure was a nurse because she is a woman) found some strep throat and a mystery infection hanging with my homeys.

Amoxicilin to the rescue! Now, our grocery store gives out many prescriptions for free - and that is one of them. No cost - no nothing but picking that stuff up and doling it out to your angels. Sadly, though, for free, they don't add the flavoring to that bad boy that makes kids not want to wretch it out. Mother-in-law was wrestling trying to get the kiddos to swallow it. Stinks to be her!*

So, Mother-in-law comes home from the "nurse" to find that the fridge had died and the freezer items had melted on the kitchen floor. GOOD TIMES! Luckily, our friends stowed the rest of our food for her and called the repair man. They had also picked up 3.0 from school when they called to say she had a fever and had to go home. I love them!

I feel badly for Mother-in-law, but am not at all sad to have missed it. Sounds to me like the PERFECT time to have been on vacation. I came home to antibiotics-ed kids and a running fridge.

I learned a couple of things from going away this time:

dirty, ripped, random pea coats can be fun.
kids can be sick and live without their moms.
70-year-old, leather-skinned women should not wear silver, lame bikinis. Ever. Even with blood red lipstick. Especially with blood red lipstick. The 5 carat diamond did not distract us enough, ya know?
always show your babysitter where the thermometer is - because it's hard to explain its location over the phone bobbing in the ocean.
no matter how much laundry you did pre-vacation, someone will still somehow find some amount of your underwear and will wash it. And will explain to you how to better get stains out. Oh yes - feel my mortification with me, friends! It was just utterly Fantastik. **

Perfect vacation - interesting home return - and now I'm ready and raring to go celebrate 2.0's birthday! She's reached the ripe old age of seven! Life is good...

*Update - I took the meds back to the pharmacist who laughed that my kids won't drink the stuff and added flavoring in about 45 seconds. Ahh - a mother's touch!

**The stains were from red paint - and no, I didn't paint my walls in my panties! The paint went through the shirt and onto the....wait - why am I explaining this again? Apparently, I wasn't mortified enough first explanation through....

She's making a list - checking it twice...

2008-04-13T19:46:00.001-07:00

....hoping her kids aren't naughty but nice.

Mama(Mormon's) leaaaaaaaaving town.

She'll be bobbing on some big waves

and scootering round Key West.

She's ready to have lots of fun

as her cruising buddies are the best. WOOT

So you better not pout,

better not cry!

Better not tell any Internet lies....

Mama(Mormon's) leaaaaaaaaaaving town!

OK folks - try not to get banned, stalked, or put on posting restrictions anywhere while I'm gone! Be good - choose the right - and someone make sure Jackie Oh goes to bed early every night and rests a lot.

101 things to do with a shoe holder

2008-04-12T17:22:00.000-07:00

Or, like, two. Maybe three. Ten, tops.

First, take your average, everyday door.

Next, add your average, everyday mess. (I'll let you just imagine your cruddiest looking mess right now - visualize - visualize....we'll wait until you are ready.)

Mix the two together and a wondrous thing happens!

All the odds and ends from Super Saturday crafts and kids' school projects now have a home. FINALLY - a place for extra ribbon and the hot glue gun that is NOT a kitchen cabinet or anywhere in your bedroom closet!

It's like a closet door/crafty mullet. Business door in the front - mess in the back. Oh yeah!!

With a simple shoe caddy, kids' hair stuff becomes well-organized and it's easy to find the perfect bow to coordinate with your new monkey-sneakers. Arrange the accessories in color coded order and have some roygbiv peace of mind.

But wait - that's not all! You can hang one over the door between the garage and the house and folks can put keys and wallets and cell phones in a handy spot! Small toys can easily be stowed away and found again with a glance! And no floor, counter, or closet space has been utilized. From the front, you have a nice looking door. Only your family knows the little secret that hides on the back!

Why I am not a candidate for the Nobel Prize with these types of suggestions for more peaceful living, I will never know. Al Gore has nothing on me! You want peace - you live like this baby!

Life is unfair

2008-04-11T05:41:00.000-07:00

We all know life is unfair.

This week, I experienced, firsthand, some of the unfairness of it all.

Riddle me this. Why, if I have ignored the exercise room in our house and have not set a toe in that puppy in months, is it filled with dust and grime and funk?

There were dust snakes hanging from the ceiling fan. I was tempted to just keep it running so no one noticed. :)

It seems fair that if you've given up using a room in the home, it should stay dust-free and sparkly, does it not?

Just to show that room who is the boss, I'm back to working out. If I am going to have to clean you, I might as well use you. That's long been my mantra for children, and I'll now apply it to housekeeping.

Life's a cruel, cruel joke.

My first game of TAG

2008-04-10T05:54:00.000-07:00

I got tagged by Mr. Fob and while I am perhaps not one of his favorite folks on the Net, I am going to pretend he hates the others more.

The rules of the game go like so:

1. Pick up the nearest book (at least 123 pages long.)

2. Turn to page 123.

3. Find the 5th sentence.

4. Post the 5th sentence on your blog.

5. Tag 5 friends to do the same!

Here's my sentence:

"He was a good king, his mother be damned."

Ok - that's a pretty great line, eh? Mr. Fob, with a line like that, I'm moving up in my popularity rating, right?!

It's from A Treasury of Royal Scandals: The Shocking True Stories of History's Wickedest, Weirdest, Most Wanton Kings, Queens, Tsars, Popes, and Emperors by Michael Farquhar and provided it's ever peaceful, could make excellent hospital reading. I suspect it will be good cruise reading, instead.

Folks I'm tagging:

Marksmom

Drama

C-Dawg

Momi

and

Dee

Now - off with you to your books and entertain me!

Sure - Jackie might be in the hospital...

2008-04-08T06:54:00.000-07:00

...but we can't only focus on that, can we?

For those of you just turning in, my mom has been in the hospital and I have been nearly obsessed with her recovery (and showing considerable restraint, I might add) but it's time for me to move on. I can't keep reading on-line medical journals day after day about her prognosis and recovery and wondering if it's too late for me to become a nurse. Jackie is going home today (I hope!!) and it's time to reflect on the other dramas and scares of my life.

And my biggest drama and scare today? The state of my home. And more specifically...the state of my (disgusting) home pre-vacationing. And to the exact point - my biggest drama of the moment is the state of my (disgusting) home, pre-vacationing, with my mother-in-law staying here while I'm gone!

dum dum duuuuuuuuuuuuum

I told you it was a big-o problem-o.

It's one thing to clean your home. I consider my house basically tidy. Meaning, for the most part, things won't fall on you when you walk about it.

But it's another thing cleaning for folks who will be staying in your home. It is a big job. I feel like my mother-in-law should be able to find the dishwashing detergent without having to move 30000000 tea towels, 2 packs of Magic Erasers, and a year's supply of Clorox Wipes to get to it.

She should be able to get a measuring cup without having approximately 1.23 million Ziploc container lids fall on her head.

The woman should be able to find the toilet paper in the master bathroom. Currently, it is sitting in a foot bath. Do you think that's intuitive?

sigh - I didn't think you would.

Take Spring Cleaning and add OCD to it, multiply it by 2.5 neuroses and you get the level of cleaning one must do before your mother-in-law lives in your home and cares for your children when you are not there.

I tackled the kitchen yesterday. I cleaned the funk out of the fridge and freezer and realphabatized the spices in the pantry. I relocated the hundreds of cleaning supplies under the sink so she won't think I'm wasteful. I tried to address the cabinets. That, gentle readers, is where failure began. I had hoped to reduce the amount of carnage that happens when one opens that Ziploc container cabinet. But I'm weak. I found a cookbook in there and started to read it instead. weak weak weak

Last night I asked myself, "Self - what the monkey are you going to do? This house is NOT ready for someone to live in it unless, of course, you want them to think you are a scum bum."

My innerMormon is, apparently, much less likely to give two rips if my mother-in-law sees the Diet Dr. Pepper (affectionately referred to here as DDP) lids under the sofa. Her best solution was to leave the house as-is and pretend to have booby trapped it. When I told her April Fool's was over and she'd never buy it, my innerMormon suggested ignoring the messes and instead, making a "gross stuff" scavenger hunt for everyone. The first person to find things like 12 year old Neosporin tubes in medicine cabinets and the kids' rotten Easter eggs hidden in the closets (that smell to high heaven but I can't find) could win a prize.

A prize like - never having to babysit here again!

I've decided to squash my innerMormon and go with my initial idea.

Jackie is...

2008-04-04T15:41:00.000-07:00

...eating, talking, breathing, and mocking others.

YAAHOOZERS!

Thanks for all the well wishes! And to answer the question you're all asking - yes - the song is dedicated to her.

Jackie Oh'Cleaver

2008-04-02T13:21:00.000-07:00

Well folks, one of our very own isn't doing so hot.

Jackie O - aka, "Mama'sMama" is in the ICU right now after suffering from a brain hemmorage. (Gosh - I so don't know how to spell that word.) It's in her right temporal lobe and her blood pressure has been insane - but I'm looking at her right now and she's peaceful and sleeping. I think, when all is said and done, Jackie O will be O-cleaver-K.

It was shocking to hear that your 55-year-old mother, who just babysat your kids and made you dinner the night before (after spending the day with you at IKEA and celebrating her birthday) had a seizure and had to be put on a ventilator.

I've thought a lot the past few days about that ventilator. At first, I was just mad at it. I thought she didn't really need it and if they'd just pull it out, we'd be a step closer to recovery. I convinced myself she didn't actually need a machine blowing anything into her and this was melodramatic.

Then they tried to remove the ventilator and she couldn't breathe on her own. Suddenly, my entire perspective changed hearing my brother say, via phone, that it didn't work. I now loved that ventilator and wanted to thank it for all it had done. Thanks for every break you gave her, Vent. Thanks for every bit of energy you saved her that her body could use to heal another area.

Yesterday, I came in and met the vent head on. I figured, alrighty - if you're here to stay - I will know you well. I researched how to read it and what each of the many numbers meant. Me and Vent were homeys. I wasn't scared of it anymore. I knew it - it knew Mom - we were kosher as a New York deli.

Today, the vent is gone. And, while I can't say I'm grieving its departure, a certain part of me is even more scared. I'd learned the vent and what it meant. Now I have to learn how a feeding tube works and worry about the unidentified infection. There's worry about if she'll recognize us (she didn't recognize me, yet) and when or if she'll go back to work. Heck - her just sitting in a chair tomorrow scares me and I'm scared for anyone within ear shot when she gets a wind of what they have done to her naturally-red-hair-that-gets-slightly-refreshed. That won't be pretty, my friends. Her hair is an art form - and they've taken a mallet to a Michelangelo.

I hated that vent - and then I appreciated it. And isn't that the way with trials sometimes? You can hate them as you are going through them. And later, you can almost wish them back as they'd be easier to wrestle then your new worry.

I was just writing on another blog recently that my life is good right now, but you never know when that will change. Life hasn't always been easy for me or for my family. I feel no guilt anymore when my life is happy and full and drama-free. There are so many of these cruddy-ventilator-kinda-times, and it's a satisfying thing to appreciate the goodness when you have it.

Having your mom have a stroke isn't fun. You start to get excited for the very little things - like that she opened her eyes and that she was able to say she's hot. And you start to wish for your own ventilator that would breathe energy and life, patience and strength through you. I think in this case, prayer is as close as I can get. Although I still think I'll ask for a valium.

All in a day's work, folks.

2008-03-28T08:40:00.000-07:00

I'm not just a wife, mom, school volunteer, and Relief Society President (who harbors children) - I am a (wait for it)

RESCUE HERO!

Drama-O - this story sounds like it should have taken place in your world. But it happened to little ole me. Plain Mormon Mom. Well, Plain Mom turned RESCUE HERO!!!

My friend is having a baby today and had to be at the hospital at 5 am. I told her I'd come to her home at 4:30 am so I could babysit and she wouldn't have to wake her son.

So, I was toodling down the road minding my oooooooown 4-something-in-the-morning business when what to my wondering eyes did appear but a car flying backwards into a house....and the bushes of that home catching fire?

Immediately, I dialed 9-1-1. Then I saw a dude jump out of the car (that was now stuck into the home's front porch) and run to the end of the block. The fire at the home was getting bigger - mostly the car was now engulfed, but a third to a half of the front porch was now burning and it was spreading easily. While I was on the phone with 9-1-1, the punk jerk firestarter face jumped into another car and drove the heck AWAY!

OH YES HE DID, TOO!

I wanted with every fiber of my being to follow his smarmy buns down and perform a Citizen's Arrest, but sadly, there was one of me and someone's house was on fire, so I really needed to tell the people inside that they were in dire straits more than I needed to stalk a criminal.

I kept the fire rescue man on the phone while I went on the (firey - yes FIREY) porch and rang the door bell about 300000000 times. A woman comes out to see a car, now engulfed in flames, on her front porch. She had a fire extinguisher, but it didn't do a fat lotta good.

I was still on the phone with fire rescue man when I heard a loud "pooooooof" noise and he said, "Are you still OK?" He'd heard the loud poooof, too. It was, apparently, a tire exploding. He told me to get out of there as all the tires would probably explode. I was really only too happy to get off the porch because by now, the fire was pretty hot and pretty big and definitely not more than 10 feet away from me.

I raced off of the porch and was finally able to give the home's street number to the rescue man. Fire trucks were still 4 minutes away, he told me, but he said I'd done all I could do and needed to stay away. I'd already made the same determination that I wasn't going in to save animals and fish and stuff. I'm cool - but I'm not THAT cool.

I had to leave before the fire trucks and police got there as, well, I still had to babysit so a family could get their new daughter! I left my info there and then watched the news like a hawk to get the scoop.

When the angel I'm babysitting woke, I quickly loaded him up so we could go back to the scene of the crime. I met the woman whose doorbell I'd rung and she just started crying and saying she couldn't believe I did it. The neighbor had had her home run into by the car, as well. When she looked out the window to see what had happened, she also saw the flames, and sent her son to the back door to alert the family. She'd called 9-1-1, as well. Apparently, she didn't know I'd already been rescue heroing it up for them, but that's OK. There's room in town for two of us.

The home that was crashed into had a major support pillar knocked off it's (huge) front porch. The house is inhabitable, as the fire didn't spread there, but there's no going on the porch - the roof is not fully supported.

The home that was on fire is pretty bad. They have removed the car (it was stolen.) The porch and the front first floor of the home and pretty well destroyed. Windows broken out, etc. Apparently, if I am understanding it right, I didn't need to tell the woman her house was on fire as the car crashed almost into her bedroom!!!

The perps fled and there aren't a ton of leads right now. Interestingly, the on-duty security officer who was about 6 houses away neither heard the huge loud crunch sound of the car crashing into not one but two homes, but he also never noticed the fire. Real crackerjack of a guy, huh?

They believe 2 cars were drag racing, one lost control and went into the two homes, and then the other car came and picked the escaped driver up.

All of that before 5 am, folks. I'm expecting a key to the city and a medal of valor any time now. No one has contacted me about it, but I'm sure it'll be coming. Maybe they'll have a parade and name a park or something after me. Ya never know!

You want to dance with stars?

2008-03-27T15:44:00.001-07:00

Then come over and boogey with my big girls! They just got in the school talent show!

79 acts entered, but 20 were chosen (at least - that's what the mommy-rumor mill is reporting.) They'll be doing a jazz dance to You Can't Stop the Beat from Hairspray.

Each act that was chosen gets to work on advertising the event. 1.0 was selected in her group to make a poster that will get to hang on a real live SCHOOL WALL! Oh yes! Her poster - on a school wall - announcing a Mormon family dance! Their lives are now complete.

I have few demands as a mother of my children, but there are a couple of must-dos. Someone in the house 1. WILL be an Olympian, and 2. WILL be a professional dancer. And it seems we're well on our way to accomplishing number two. I mean, I'm not personally on my way to making number two. Two being a dancer, not ummm, you know, the other Number Two. One of my kids might end up dancing - not pooping. I mean, they all poop - that's going well here. Not that I check...I just don't hear complaints about it. But this is about dancing, not pooping....

When I cleaned my home yesterday...

2008-03-26T16:51:00.000-07:00

...I'd envisioned it staying clean(ish) and being lovely for a while. Friday is Spring Break, but yesterday was my last day to clean before the mania of having kids at home with nothing to do starts. Once they are all here all day every day, who knows when the toilets will be cleaned again, ya know?

I mopped everything - cleaned the front porch - power vacuumed - did the woodwork - refilled the fountain and cleaned it - tackled THE STAIRS - threw out dead plants - etc. Ahh - the beauty that is sterilization and a clean house with no kids in it!

Then I called Jackie-Oh and was going to camp out over there last night to celebrate her old-lady-birthday with the miniMormons!

That's not exactly how things panned out for the Mormon fam. I ended up emergency babysitting 6 kids in my freshly-clean-scented-candles-a-burning-windowsills-vacuumed-out-weeds-all-pulled-house. Add those 6 to my 3, and it was a kid-fest. There was one middle schooler at the event, but she was a little too preoccupied chatting with a boy on her cell phone to be a ton of help.

I am learning to love being the Relief Society President, but I'm wondering if I'll ever get used to the emergencies of the sisters. Yesterday, I gained several new temporary children because a gal's estranged (recently excommunicated) husband decided to become a stalker and leave her crazy messages and try to take their children out of school without her knowledge. While she went to get that sorted out, I got the kids because 3 guard gates could work to protect her babies.

Nine kids and one mom are hard on a house. It's not a trip to watch your freshly cleaned house be destroyed. A giant sliding screen door is now ripped down - the net around the trampoline is in shreds - there was dog poop all over the freshly mopped floor - every game we own has pieces sprawled around the second floor - my mom's birthday got wrecked...

But my kids are safe and happy. My husband loves me (somewhat) and I don't have to worry about him harming us or leaving town with our kids. I have the blessing of living a good good life - just in a home that's in a bit of disarray. My friend can't put her life together right now without a tremendous amount of work and pain. My home is in disarray - her life is. And the life of her kids. It's pretty easy to see which I'd choose.

I'll take the spilled juice and dirty socks by the door. I am grateful to be the babysitter - my problems are small.

I don't know if the many sadnesses of this calling will ever quit shocking me. This morning, I've already gotten a call that one sister's son has run away from home (he's now found) and another sister's husband is stuck in a broken down car (a family of six's only vehicle) about 40 minutes away needing a ride back home. There's a message here I still have to deal with - the employment center would love to help a sister find work, but the people interviewing her say she looks like a meth-addict - could I work on getting her a makeover? She has recently lost her job and is the sole breadwinner for her six children. She's too mortified to even tell her family she's lost her job, yet.

I see these trials folks have and am grateful, thankful, and happy to live my life and to have made the choices I made. I'm glad to have a house that folks can come to and take a load off for a while. I know I can't save anyone, but I'm glad they can rest here.

Now, I'm off to a bread making class! (I bought her a bread pan, too. Just covering the bases...)

Addictions are bad

2008-03-25T06:27:00.000-07:00

One shouldn't be addicted to anything. Even an addiction to something conceivably good can lead one down a bad, slippery slope to yuck-ville. Take, say - an addiction to working out. It can lead one to be completely preoccupied about her figure, her weight, and it will make her no fun at parties.

I try to keep some balance in my life and avoid addictions. But sadly, of late, I've failed. I've seen that Tree of Addictions and I'm standing on the Trunk of Shame. I need to let go, but I'm weak. I'm weak to Reality TV.

First, it was Project Runway.

Then, Dancing with the Stars.

And now....weep....

Real Housewives of New York City

Oh yes I do too like it. And beyond just liking it, I'm totally drawn in like a moth to the flame.

I want to know about Fashion Week and Trunk Shows and the Hamptons. I want to see Ferarris and people flying private planes between Martha's Vineyard and the Hamptons at 5k a pop. I want to know how the other half lives. I'm weak to it! It's the brownstones and being wait listed at pre-Ks and having a car service that just sucks me in and keeps me coming back for more. Thank goodness for insomnia last night so I could get caught up.

Apparently, you do not need to be an actual housewife to participate in this show. One is a countess (which I barely think counts), 2 others have full-time jobs, and one is not married. There is a "true" housewife who has a French au pair for her boys, Johann and Francois. Rough life.

Is there a 12-step-program for my addiction?

(Mom - you'd be in love with this show. I think you would too, Momi. Watch it with me and I'll be your enabler!!)

Shock and awe

2008-03-24T17:51:00.000-07:00

Two things I never in a million years thought I'd ever say:

1. Priscilla Presley is enjoyable to watch on DWTS.

2. I had a good experience going to the Wal Mart super center today.

I know! SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUUP!!!

Pris isn't someone I'd invite to my sleepover, but she's reasonably enjoyable to watch dance. Her face (surprisingly) moves a lot more than I thought it would considering it's state of Botox-ness.

And today - at Wal Mart - not only was I first in line for a register, I was greeted out in front of the lines by someone asking if I was ready to check out. Knock me over with a yellow smiley!!

The mighty mighty 1.0!

2008-03-24T17:05:00.000-07:00

Today, 1.0 and 2.0 got to experience firsthand why I, and so many others around the world, have a fierce love of....

KICKBALL!!!!

If I've said it once, I've said it a good 5 or 6 times....straight out of high school, I should have been drafted onto a major league kickball team. In my mind, I'd envisioned making my first million as a professional kickball player - traveling the world - seeing the sights - making the cover of a Wheaties box.

And then, much like the 1992 basketball Dream Team members, I pictured myself stepping down from professional kickball for a short time in order to play for the US National Kickball Team in.....(duh) THE OLYMPICS!

I wasn't sure if we'd take home the gold. My imagination allowed for some big egos on our team that might thwart our ultimate victory. But I knew no matter what, I'd clearly be America's kickball version of Mary Lou Retton. Well, Mary Lou plus some height and minus a leo. I think we'd be equals on the vault. But I digress...

I've often told my daughters of my great love of the sport. They know of my glory days and my prowess on the clay. And today - they tasted of the goodness that is kickball. I was so happy and so proud to realize they follow in my footsteps (or kicks, as the case may be) as 1.0 made (now mind you - this was her first ever introduction to the sport!) a HOME RUN!

OH YES SHE DID!!!!

Someone in this family is gonna be an Olympian yet! That kid isn't going to get picked last on the team tomorrow, I'll tell you that right now! Oh yeah...that's right...jump back........be afraaaaaaaaaaid of that fierce 40 pounds...chicken legs my butt - those are home run legs baby...

2008-03-23T04:42:00.001-07:00

My kids are real kids - they do plenty of real kiddie stuff, like arguing and making messes. But today, they really impressed me.

When I woke up, the big girls were snuggled up on the sofa with their Easter baskets on the floor next to them. And they were watching TV. So I looked at the TV, and they were watching a movie about Easter and the Resurrection.

sniff

Happy Easter, everybody.

Rate this sin

2008-03-22T19:53:00.001-07:00

In this week's wonderment of "Is this a sin?" I need your help to figure out a tricky one!

How much of a sin is it to go out on the Sabbath to get some TP? Now, we need to factor in that said TP run could possibly be taking place on Easter Sunday.

I think we'll make it tomorrow, provided no one does anything wonky. But we might need some pre-Easter celebration TP if anyone has, well, issues. And in that case, if I do have to make a TP run, are we talking outer darkness there or just Telestial Kingdom?

I am thankful for the Relief Society in my home...

2008-03-22T19:23:00.000-07:00

I heard a pretty cute talk today. It was by a man filling in (at the last minute I might add) for the Stake President at our Relief Society birthday luncheon. He was a little rough around the edges (I can relate there) and obviously not used to speaking extemporaneously - and I loved his message. Really fresh and enjoyable and the speaker was rather endearing. He's a country boy who wore his best Wrangler suit and boots to church today.

He said a few things that will stick with me. In particular, what moved me was when he said, "I am thankful for the Relief Society in my home. I've had the Relief Society in my home since I was a child, and I am grateful for its influence on me." He went on to thank the women for everything from the good food that they cook to keeping men straight.

I've heard many a grateful testimony about how having the priesthood around is a great comfort. But I've never heard someone expressing how much it means to them to have their wife honoring the Relief Society declaration. You hear the typical, "I love my wife so much" kind of line from Mormon men - but to have someone say, "I'm thankful to have the Relief Society in my home" - gosh - something about it made my heart want to pop with happiness.

He spoke about the differences between men and women and said that being a man trying to get something done is like having a row boat and only one oar. He shared that a man with one oar will have a hard time getting to a good fishing spot in a lake. He's likely, with only one oar, to go in circles and he'll have to work very hard to travel in a straight line.

Then he said that having a good wife is like having 2 oars in the boat - you can straighten yourself out with her paddling and you will be probably get there faster. She might hit ya upside the head with the oar at times, as well, which isn't necessarily all bad.

His simple comments really left a big impression on me - I'm glad to have been raised in a home where the Relief Society was present and honored. And I'm grateful to have the association of 5.5 million other women in the world who believe who might have different interests and talents and cultures than my own, but who also believe in the power of charity and service.

And I'm glad to know I'm "purty. Just real beauty-ful!" He handed out some nice compliments about the Relief Society sisters and I'm still loving those, too!

Don't mess with me!

2008-03-20T10:36:00.000-07:00

Do you want to complain, every two weeks, that the church-provided food isn't good enough for you? And comment, in particular, that the bread is really bad and you wish you could get good whole wheat bread?

Then watch out. Because I don't suffer whiners well and I'll set up a personal bread-making class for you and buy you some wheat flour and yeast and call it a day.

That's right, I sure the heck will. And you'll learn how to make your own dang bread next Thursday at 10 am.

And next time you complain that the church doesn't give out good fish, I am seriously going to hand you a fishing pole.

Sometimes, I feel like the mom of this gang. I love 'em, but I'd like to put a few of them in time out.

First Loves

2008-03-18T14:13:00.000-07:00

1.0 has her first crush. It's been cute to watch and I think she's chosen to fall in love with a great guy. He's strong, smart, and while he'd be darn lucky to have her, he's pretty unattainable. I have no worry as a mother about her ditching elementary school and eloping with him.

This crush has opened some lines of communication for 1.0 and I. We've talked about dating, how you act when you like-like someone, and what to do with your wands while on a date.

That's right - my kid is in love with Harry Potter!

sniff

Anyone else remember their first crush? Mom - yours was surely on Lot. Aren't you so glad you didn't hook up with him? eeek

Meet the contestants!

2008-03-17T09:26:00.000-07:00

I'd like to introduce you to some of my (sniff) bedazzled heroes!!!

Funny stuff, peeps!

What the monkey?

To the tune of "Matchmaker, matchmaker."

Yeah - I had 4 cookies after dinner last night.

Microwave, microwave...

Winner Winner.....

Rejected Superbowl Ad

How much do you like cows?

Riddle me this?

When the dog poops in your pocketbook..

In case the flu wasn't bad enough...

A little friendly VD competition

See - this Mormon calling thing pays off.

The joys of parenting

Very, very, very unbelievably scary

Mama's Top Ten List of Almost New Year's Resolutions

2008 in Review - Thanks Mountain Shaman!!

It's anonymous and you're among friends.

In case you thought I was getting a big head...

Now for the obligatory...

Whine, whine, whine, complain, complain, complain

Run Mama MC

Never say I'm not a problem solver

Gift giving ideas

Things that don't suck

Anyone else tired of being a Prop 8 Punch Bag Bob?

This week in RATE THAT SIN!

Mama's handy tip of the day

Excuse me! I think I've got a heartache

Body fluids are your friends

Back in the saddle again!

The Axe

Riddle me this?

This week in, "Is this a sin?"....

You know your family...

Organizing Visiting Teaching is really...

Pods are not just storage units

Seriously!

A (slow) day in the life of a Relief Society President

Pink rooms - everywhere you go!

Rock out with my playlist

Mama and New Mama bond

BFFs

Yucky things I would rather do...

Dear Homeys,

Please help your friendly RS President

So bad - so funny

What are you not sloppy about?

Oh. My. Stars

Summertime!!

Can I feng shui with Annie?

HELP!

Just so ya know...

Don't you wish TV was better?

Cuz we are living in a material world

Ruh-roh

Once again - pause my player and laugh!

Even I have standards

Mama's miracle!

He's baaaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaack!

Sing it with me!

I took a ride in the relaxi taxi!

In case you thought I was kidding...

You know it's time to be released...

A kind and loving Mother's Day breakfast

Menu

Starters

Main Attractions

Southwest Sensation

H-name HoDown

Strawberry Strata

A bit of everything!

The history of Mother's Day - a la Mormon

Because I love to make Mr. Mormon laugh

Blessed peace!

Mama's Product Endorsements

Turn up the tunes and BOOGEY

Stumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen...

Jealous

Water park observations

Life in paradise