Apparently the Savior had a response to my last blog entry

Dear Children,

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival. Although I do appreciate being remembered anytime.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth, just GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

Now, having said that let Me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it:

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them .

3. Instead of writing George complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up. It will be nice hearing from you again.

4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

5. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile; it could make the difference.

6. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christ mas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families.

7. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary-- especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name.

8. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.

9. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.

Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember,

I LOVE YOU,
JESUS

Listen up people. "The Holiday" has a name. It's called CHRISTMAS!!!

Nothing bothers me more at this time of year than the dreaded X-Mas season. I am stunned that the 30% of non-Christians in America have a louder voice than the 70% of us that believe in Christ. How is it that people can be offended at the fact that we want "the holiday" to be centered around Jesus? Do they not understand that without Jesus there would be no "holiday"? What do they think Christmas is exactly? Well you know what.....I'm offended too. I am offended at the word "X-Mas". Is that what people think? It is okay to replace Christ with an X. Really? And why are we as a vastly God believing society allowing "non-believers" to dictate to us how to celebrate the birth of our Savior? It just ticks me off. It's all about buy, buy, buy....spend, spend, spend. Lets see how many presents we can stuff under our trees. No more do you see Christmas carolers going door to door, neighbor helping neighbor. Even our children's "Winter Musicals" programs, cannot have traditional Christmas carols like "Away in a Manger" or "Silent Night". It's heartbreaking and frustrating all in one.

I don't know about you, but I for one love the CHRISTMAS season when you peel away the layers of commercialism and such. So Merry CHRISTmas to you all.

Managing Conflicting Emotions

How the heck to you do it? I am in such an emotional tug-of-war right now that it is driving me crazy. And I feel so guilty about it that I swear I am giving myself an ulcer.

It's no secret that I don't like living in Texas. I grew up in a very small town, where everyone knew everyone and you were related to almost everybody. I had my parents and grandparents, I had all my aunts and uncles close.....and a couple of dozen cousins that I could play with whenever I wanted. I had a VERY close relationship with my grandmother. She was my hero and one of my very best friends. I would live at her house in the summers and spend as much time with her as I could. It was an amazing relationship and one I treasure now more than ever. My grandma passed away 8 years ago.

Living here in Texas we have no family. Everyone is in Canada.....for both Ross and my family. His mom, my parents, his oldest son, my siblings, and our nephews.....all in Canada. My kids don't really know their cousins and haven't seen their grandparents in over 2 years. I HATE THAT!! I want my kids to have the same close knit family ties that I had.

I love my husband, and I have followed him everywhere since we've been married. And, we have moved.....A LOT!!! He loves living here. His business is taking off like crazy, the kids are thriving and doing really well too. So, why am I so unhappy? Am I just being selfish, because I miss my family and want to give my kids what I had? UGH! My brain is hurting. I wish I could just be happy with where we are, but I'm not. And I can't explain that to my husband, because he wouldn't understand. He didn't have the same type of childhood that I did. His family wasn't close and didn't care if they ever saw eachother. This is so much easier for him to deal with. I don't have "friends" here. I mean, there are people from church that I communicate with occassionally, but are they really my "friends" in the sense of a sisterhood bond that most people equate with close friends? And can I ever achieve that with people? Again, my husband doesn't understand the need for friends. He is my best friend, and says that's all he needs and doesn't understand why I have the need for other friends. Maybe it's a woman thing, a type of bonding instinct we have that men don't. I don't know. Ugh, why is life so complicated?

Tag! I'M IT!

I've Been Tagged!!!
The rules:
A. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning.
B. Each player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves.
C. At the end of the post, the player then tags 6 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.


1. When I was 18 months old I had a horrible accident causing a head injury that paralyzed me on my right side for 2 weeks. If you don't believe in the power of priesthood blessings......man, will I set you straight. I was only given a 10% chance of survival....and to this day cannot take part in any activity that could cause another head injury.

2. I do everything backwards. Like reading from a list.....I always start at the bottom and work my way to the top. Or when I'm searching through pages for names or pictures.....I always have to start at the back. I don't know why, but when I start at the top or the front, I get REALLY frustrated.

3. Growing up I always wanted to be a journalist, but my parents pretty much pushed college on me when I wanted to take a year off after high school graduation, so my dad enrolled me and had me major in early childhood education. I dropped out after one sememster because it just wasn't what I wanted to do.

4. I am homesick on a regular basis. I don't like living in Texas and wish we'd never moved here. I have to talk to my mom at least every 48 hours or I get really moody.

5. I'm addicted to energy drinks. I can't go a day without one.....even though I know they've ruined my teeth and will NOT help me lose weight.

6. I have a photographic memory. I remember lyrics to literally thousands of songs. I still remember the address and phone number I had in 2nd grade, and I can name every person in every class photo I have from school. I even used to help the mailman when my husband and I managed an apartment complex....he would phone me to see which suite tenants were in if the letters weren't addressed properly.

I'm not exactly sure who even reads this blog.....so I tag whoever reads this and hasn't already done it themselves.

So have I always been an idiot.....or is this something new??

I've been working for the last 3 years for my husbands company, and I have to admit that the experience has opened me up to an entirely different side of myself that I wasn't aware existed before.

The number one thing I've realized? I am not an especially smart person.

I'm a friendly person.. I'm a wordy person... I'm someone who beats myself up over every mistake until I'm pretty sure I'll give myself an ulcer by sheer will alone type person...... but I will not be inventing an improved wheel or discovering the cure for the common cold anytime soon.

And it's not that I'm "stupid" per se... I just seem to lack any shred of common sense.

Ask me where the Carpenters got the idea for the song "We've Only Just Begun."..... ask me to quote every line from The Rocky Horror Picture Show and I can do a one-woman show playing each part and doing a mean Time Warp..... ask me to give my opinion on Stephen King's slow decline from horror to thinly veiled self introspection and I can go on for an hour.....

I am a veritible treasure trove of information on music, movies, general knowledge, strange history, etc....

But do not ask me to remember to check the credit decision on an account or where I left my shoes... because unless I need that decision for something, I'll probably forget to double check it.... and those shoes are gone. They disappeared from my bedroom floor and have been sucked into the same invisible vortex that keeps stealing all of my bras....

The bra thing drives me nuts.. I should have a million of them with how many I buy all the time.... but they keep going MIA somewhere between the hamper and the dryer. I'll go looking for a specific one and it will be nowhere.... like they just disappeared off the face of the planet. I'm half inclined to believe that gnomes are stealing the silk ones to use as emergency parachutes when they jump off the dresser after stealing my hairbrush...

..... because I can never seem to find that either.

Bloody thieving gnomes.

But anyway....working is fun. Making money rocks. I really like my job.

... but either I make some room in my brain by clearing out something useless like the lyrics to all the Shirly Temple songs I sang as a child that I've managed to store in my brain.... or I give up or get fired by my darling husband and get a job more along my mental speed..... like running the Pick-a-rubber-duck-from-the-kid-pool-and-get-a-prize-determined-by-the-color-beneath-it's-butt with some traveling carnival filled with felons living just under the law's radar.


Three questions:

Can I really function in life minus the lyrics of every song I've ever sang?

How can I sit in my office working away at the computer without song after song that I have loved all my life blaring in the background?

Are there even carnivals this time of year? If not I may need to take out some unemployment if I can't get my head on straight.

And remember that I may not have matching socks, but I can kick any of your asses at Trivial Pursuit...

... and Scene It. I rock at those Scene It games... all of them except the sports one.

My brain apparently doesn't do common sense OR Sports.

Sigh.. drats. Foiled again.

Choose you this day whom ye will serve.

Just a warning, you may want to get comfortable as this might be lengthy. I don't know about for any of you, but for me it's also going to be very emotional. The title of this entry comes from a verse in the Bible that so often seems trite or like a no brainer. I would never deliberately serve Satan, of course I serve God. Really? That is not true. I'll be honest with you, even at this very moment, I want to walk away from my computer and not finish this entry because it makes me more than a bit vulnerable and it would be much easier to walk away. After all, if I don't hit publish, no one would be the wiser. I have been dancing with the devil for some time now and there is part of me that doesn't want to give it up. How can that be, you ask? You see, when I give into self loathing and I deny the power of Heavenly Father in my life, I've chosen not to serve Him and in so doing, I'm serving Satan. No one can serve two masters, right? Our loyalty can only be in one place and while I want to serve God, I'm hanging onto the darkness that threatens to suck the very life out of me.

If you were walking down the street and your child was with you, dancing along, singing and enjoying the day, would you gladly hand him or her over to a drug dealer or a pedophile and walk away thinking it would all be ok? No. If a dealer or a pedophile would try to steal your child from you what would you do? You would fight to the death trying to save and protect your child. Why are we often less passionate or intent on saving our hearts/minds/soul/spirit from the attacks Satan tries to throw at us? Heck, I've opened the door, given him the keys to my kingdom and let him plunder me over and over and over again. I can't tell you right now the torment that I've been living in for the last few weeks and why? Because I let him tell me that I'm disgusting to look at, I'm unlovable, I'm stupid, I'm lazy, I'm a horrid mother, I've ruined my kids, they'd be better off without me, my husband deserves better, I destroy everything I touch, if people truly saw the real me they wouldn't like me, and on and on and on ad nauseum. The stupid thing is...I believe it. I believe every word of it and I can spend hours giving you reasons why all of the above is true. I do nothing to protect myself because I don't see myself as worth it. I'm worthless. Just ask me. I'll prove it to you.

Now, I know the scriptures are the perfect, inerrant word of a living God. So, it's either completely true, or none of it's true. That means, Jesus is a redeemer or he's not. Well, I believe He is. I believe He is for you, for my kids, for my husband, for those I love, etc... so then how can it not be true for me? I can tell you why, but that's because Satan is so very good at what he does. He laces the lies with enough truth to make them believable and he hammers away at us mercilessly until we start believing the lie. There is a saying that says what we fear, we create which is almost like self fulfilling prophesy. Well, I have to choose to stand up, make him shut up, and choose this day to serve a Savior that was willing to take the beatings He took for me. He died... for me. Does it mean that I'm going to be perfect? Nope. Does it mean it's going to be easy? Not as long as we live in an imperfect world. Even as I type this, the battle is raging inside me, but for me..... I choose right now to serve the Lord. So long as He can provide me the strength I need, I can do anything.

Mind Rotting Daytime Television

My poor husband tries to be supportive of all my interests. Unfortunately, that doesn't always work out so well for him.

Today I'm not feeling well. So I was curled up on the couch with a cup of herbal tea while I watched a guilty pleasure.. the soap opera, Days of our Lives, which I TiVo all week. As is my custom, I proceded to tell off the characters who annoyed me between coughing fits. "Shut up, Kate, you skank!" or "EJ is such a dog."

Ross was in the kitchen making lunch and listening to me. "What's the matter honey?"

"Nothing.. EJ is a jerk. I hope they kill him."

And being the kind gentleman he is, he opened a can of worms and asked "Who is EJ? Is he the Salem Stalker?". And that innocent question led to this exchange:

Me: "Well probably, but that storyline is a year old now. He's the one who raped Sami and may be the father of one of her twins."

Ross: "Sami? Is she the one you like? I thought she was married."

Me: "She is.. to Lucas. But he's freaking out because he may not be the baby-daddy, and is stressed out over Sami devorcing him and marrying EJ to end the De Mira vendetta."

Ross: "I thought her and Lucas had a kid."

Me: "They do.. Will......but that kid is like 14 or something."

Ross: "Wait..so who is EJ the jerk? I'm confused."

Me: (sigh) "EJ is the son of Stephano Di Mera. His mom was Susan the psycho who was given plastic surgery to look like Stephano's daughter, Kristen. EJ was a race car driver and put a lot of money into a business with Kate, Lucas' mother, but he's always been in love with Sami."

Ross: "Wait. So is EJ just using Sami to hurt the Brady's and that's why he has had a fling with both Lucas' mom and his wife?"

Me: (getting annoyed at missing my show while explaining.) "NO! EJ really is in love with Sami. His tryst with Kate was more of just a business thing, or else he just wanted to follow in his fathers footsteps who also had a fling with Kate. But he really is in love with Sami and hopes he is the father of her twins. It's not that complicated! You just don't pay attention when I tell you things!"

At this point Ross gets annoyed, walks into the living room, glares at me and says:

"I do pay attention. I pay attention to everything you tell me, but you women and your little TV shows are nuts! Nevermind! I'm sorry I asked."

Then he stomps back into the kitchen.

5 minutes later I say "Stupid useless Kate" quietly to myself .... then I hear hear him breathe out heavily before he bellows:

"Okay.. who the heck is Kate again?"


Soaps are like second hand smoke... they don't just effect the "smoker".. they poison the brains of everyone within a 40 foot radius apparently.

A Little Soul-Bearing Honesty

Lately, I have been in a pit of despair and I was beginning to be fearful that I would never come out. I won't go into a lengthy explanation of what causes these things to happen in my life, but it all ends up back at the feet of the fear of rejection and abandonment. I guess that things I have been hiding away in my soul need to be spoken aloud so that I can start to heal from them. So, this may turn into a really long story that maybe only needs me to say, and not necessarily to be read by others. If you choose to continue reading it, I hope that your opinion of me does not become jaded.

Anyway, back in 1995 I was going to college, waiting on a missionary who I believed was my absolute destiny to be with forever, and basically just having the time of my life and trying to keep busy. I would spend all my free time with my friends at the LDS Institute and loved going to YSA dances with my roomates. My then boyfriend was serving his mission in Talahassee, Florida in a Vietnamese speaking mission. Well, it just so happens that a close friend of his (and our student ward Elder's Quorum President)happened to have also served in a Vietnamese mission and therefore knew the language very well. This guy became my translator for the letters that my boyfriend would send home for me in Vietnamese (I think he just liked showing me how well he was mastering the language). The EQ president and I spent quite a bit of time together as friends, and then there was a day that I think changed the course of my destiny forever. We had been in the basement of his parents home watching movies or something and his demeanor became something unfamiliar to me. Suddenly he was on top of me tearing at my clothes and taking me into his bedroom. I will spare you the details of all that happened, some of which I think I have blocked out because I simply don't want to remember. That happened on a Friday......on Sunday I went early to church and asked to speak with the bishop. I had informed him of what had gone on, explained that this was in no way a consentual deal and I was wondering what he inteneded to be done. The bishop told me that the Elder's Quorum president had already come to him the night before and "confessed" everything to him. The bishop felt that what had happened was not a reason to release this man from his calling. I stood up, walked out the doors of the church and never went back. I cut all contact with my missionary, figuring I was too damaged that he wouldn't want me anymore. I left everything about the church that day. I guess I didn't realize that I left God there, too.

He has tried so hard to maintain a relationship with me, but I keep getting wrapped up in the hurt of things all over again and I've been holding Him off. I don't want to be vulnerable. I don't want to be hurt again. I don't want to feel. In the process though, I've flung the door open and let the enemy whisper things into my ears, heck, sometimes he's flat out screaming at me. I'm sure you all have been there? What all can he say? Everything that contradicts the true essence of who God is, but laced with enough truth to make it believable. For 4 years it was easier for me to be angry and blame the church as a whole for this terrible injustice. After the birth of my first son, I started going back.....little by little......a week or two here and there. But I never again have fully immersed myself in the church and the gospel. It's just too hard. I've been so long away, that it has become easier to stay away. But today the tide turned. I am uncertain what happened, but I had a really nagging pain in the back of my neck today, so I took a nap and when I woke up, I was done. D O N E letting SATAN have his way with me and ready to let GOD have his way with me. Then a friend of mine gave me the link to this video. It's 5 minutes and 32 seconds that will bring tears to your eyes and remind you of WHO is truly on your side. Please don't give up if it seems lengthy or you don't like it at first. It is powerful and the end is well worth it. It is my life portrayed on stage and it even shows my victory. I know it's not an LDS video.....but it still dropped me to my knees in prayer when it was over. I hope that means that this is a changing day in my life. I'm ready to heal. I really am.

http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ee73e63418003b47d7d5

My Personality Type

Your Personality is Somewhat Rare (ISFP)

Your personality type is caring, peaceful, artistic, and calm. Only about 7% of all people have your personality, including 8% of all women and 6% of all men You are Introverted, Sensing, Feeling, and Perceiving.

How Rare Is Your Personality?

Just a Freakin' Cool Quote

I love this quote, and just wanted to share it. Sometimes it's something we all need to remember.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." Marianne Williamson

Abandonment

One of our deepest needs as humans is to belong. God created in us a desire for relationships, but unfortunately in our human form, we tend to mess things up. We don't carry out our friendships well or we let people down, or we get let down. Any way you look at it, humans in a relationship will inevitably hurt one another at some point. The heart may not be to hurt anyone, but where the spirit is willing, so often the flesh is weak. As a result of these hurts, over time we often build up a fear of rejection or abandonment that hits us to our very core. I know that I struggle very deeply with these fears. I don't have very many people inside the inner sanctum of my heart in an effort to keep me from getting wounded there, but it still happens.

Something occurred to me this morning though, and I'm not quite through processing it, but the key point is.... how often does my rejection and abandonment hurt my Heavenly Father? When I'm wounded and feeling alone or vulnerable, I withdraw. I don't spend time with Him. In fact, I avoid Him. How often has He been hurt because He wants to be there for me but I've shut the door and held Him out? How often is my hurt prolonged by my own behavior? Do I think I'm any different than Adam and Eve trying to hide their nakedness? He's the Master and Creator of the universe. He knit me together in my mother's womb and He even knows the number of hairs on my head. HE KNOWS MY HEART. There isn't anyone in the world, no matter how close they are to you, that can know you as intimately as your Father in Heaven. He wants to love you. He wants to love me. He wants to let you know that He values you and He wants to spend time with you. He longs to hear my voice and yours. There is nothing too big or too small or too boring for Him. He is the alpha and omega, the beginning and the end. Why are we holding onto these things when He's sitting there just waiting for us to give it to Him? Why do we treat Him the way we hate to be treated?

The Anomaly of a Long Lasting Marriage

As I sit here looking at the calendar on my wall, I can't help but smile. Tomorrow will be our wedding anniversary.....our 10th wedding anniversary. Some days I'm astonished at how quickly time has gone by, an amazed that when you peel away the layers of our life.....it really wasn't that hard.

Of course, we've had some insanely tough days in our marriage, but to be able to last 10 years almost seems like a record by the worlds standards. For those of you who don't know....I guess I'll give you a little backstory on Ross and I.

We met in the spring of 1996. My parents had convinced me to give up on a boyfriend that was not helping me be the wonderful person that they figured I could and should be. So,I took a job at a hotel in one of Alberta, Canada's most beautiful National Parks.

I had fun, met a LOT of new people from all over the world and basically wasn't focused on "relationships and dating". One day, I took my lunch break from my job at the front desk and went back to sit in the staff dining area. There was a boy sitting there who was about 12 or 13 years old eating penny candy out of a brown paper bag. I sat at the table behind him. He turned around and offered me some candy and I obliged him. He asked me my name and if I worked at the hotel. I answered him. He then asked me if I knew who his father was. I looked at him and said "No". He then told me, "Oh, well my dad is the chef here.......and he could kick your ass".

I looked at him in stunned silence for a minute, trying to decide if he was attempting to threaten me or if it was just for shock value. I have a little brother who is the same age as this kid and he will sometimes say things just to see what he can get away with. I then asked him why his father would want to do that to me, since I was a complete stranger. Suddenly this tall, and rather intimidating man, dressed in kitchen whites came out from the kitchen and said to the boy, "That's enough, Christopher. Leave this girl alone." He then proceeded to apologize for his son and we got to talking.

Now, I should rewind and say that while I was in Waterton (the name of the town), my life had taken a few turns to where I was no longer active in the Church and was not adhering to the words of wisdom or the law of chastity. (My reasons for leaving the church are a completely different story altogether that I will save for another day). Anyway, this guy asked what I was doing after work and we decided to meet at the hotel bar (the only place in town that had music and entertainment)for drinks and some games of pool. We had a great night and spent every evening after work together for the next three months.

At that time, the summer was coming to a close and many of the staff were being laid off from the hotel for the season. Not wanting our relationship to end, we decided to move to Calgary (his home town) and make a go of our relationship. Two months later, I found out I was pregnant with our first son.

Now you also have to understand that we were under pressure from both of our families with regards to our relationship. My family didn't like the fact that he was 10 years older than me, was not LDS, was a smoker, was twice divorced and had a 12 year old son. His family thought I was too young, unstable, flakey, and the whole "Mormon" thing about sent his Catholic mother over the edge.

But we persevered, and 6 months after our son was born, we were married. In fact, I recieved the engagement ring on my 21st birthday and we married 12 days later. It was nothing fancy. Which again, goes back to the things in my life I regret. We were married by a Justice of the Peace in her garage. No family, no party, no dress, no cake......nothing that was anything to do with the wedding of my childhood dreams. But, I guess, at least it was official and we were man and wife.

SO 10 years and three wonderful children, I don't think I would change much about how we've gotten here. Of course, there are the small things that we take for granted, or the pet peeves that we each overlook because we love eachother dispite our faults. And, although I don't care much for poetry, this one pretty much describes my feelings about us.......


I Carry Your Heart With Me
e.e. cummings

I carry your heart with me,
I carry it in my heart.
I am never without it.
Anywhere I go you go, my dear;
And whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling.
I fear no fate,
For you are my fate, my sweet.
I want no world,
For beautiful you are my world, my true.
And it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
And whatever a sun will always sing is you.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows;
Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
And the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
Which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide.....
And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart;
I carry your heart,
I carry it in my heart.

The Little Things

There are so many times that we try to find money to take extravagant vacations or to prove to our kids that we love them with money, when it's the small things that they will remember. Will they remember great vacations? Yes, but they will also remember playing in the rain, baking cookies with Mom, running through the sprinkler, having blanket forts and smores.


I wonder how often we sit back and wait on God to wow us instead of taking the time to notice the small things that He has done for our enjoyment. The joy of a summer rain, the perfect spots on a ladybug's back, the smile on our child's face. We are so self absorbed in today's world that we often forget that we don't need to be wowed. There is nothing that He owes us, yet we expect so much. How often do we take the time to be thankful that when we are feeling quiet and bummed that He's sitting right there with us and is willing to listen if we want to share, or to just be there with us through it. We sell Him so short. We hold onto bitterness, anger, frustration, wounds, etc... and keep ourselves from enjoying all He has to offer.


This morning I found myself watching my son with his Go Diego, Go fleece blanket sitting on my couch watching Backyardigans (his favorite show). He actually thanked me for letting him watch it. Then as he sat there with a smile on his face and snuggling his "blankie", I realized why the Lord so wants us to be like a child. They take the time to enjoy life. They don't hold onto all of the crap that we do. Ooooooooooh how I want to be like that. I want to be like my little Ryker.....free to dance in the rain.

Living With Regret

In recent years I’ve found that one of the things that haunt me the most is regret. I made a lot of poor decisions in my young adulthood. Things I shouldn't have done but did, things I should have been more proactive about but wasn't, putting my faith in the wrong people, and walking away from what would have been my ideal life.

It just feels like I've never been responsible for making the important choices and decisions in my life. Everyone else did it for me, even if I disagreed with them.....which it feels like I often did. I didn't choose my college major; which is probably why I dropped out after the first semester. I didn't choose to be violated by the student ward Elders Quorum president while my boyfriend was on his mission. However, when the bishop sided with this man and would not remove him from his calling, I DID choose to walk away from the church.....so, maybe I shouldn't be responsible for making my own choices. Because it seems like I may have made the wrong ones.

While I don't for one second regret having my children, I regret the life I've given them. I regret moving a million times in their short lives, never giving them roots, taking them thousands of miles away from their grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. I regret that I haven't made sure that the church was a cornerstone of our family, that my 10 yr old son still isn't baptized and that my husband and I don't see eye to eye on why he should be. I regret the fact that their father is so much older and unhealthier that he isn't as active with the boys as he should be. I regret not being sealed in the temple. Oh.......so much more many things.

While it won't change anything, it felt kind of good saying this stuff "out loud". Now maybe I can work on my life so that while I may have lived with some regret, I don't have to die with it too.

Frost and Melancholia

There are so many decisions that pass us by almost unnoticed, leaving a lasting impression only because too late we can recognize them for what they were... quietly crucial moments that shape not only where we are, but who we have become.

I dislike poetry.. it's just never appealed to me very much. I'll read the occasional turn of phrase that sticks out because it's exceptionally clever or unexpectedly funny..but for the most poetry leaves me cold.

The one poem that has ever really hit a nerve with me is Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken". The first time I read it, it just felt true to me... how the smallest choices lead us from one point to another until we're so far from where we began that there's no way we'll ever be able to go back.

Anyway..... enough melancholia. I stumbled across the poem again earlier and wanted to throw it up on here.. so here it is.. Frost's "The Road Not Taken."



Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

Because I always get high at Wal-Mart (Yes...another Wal Mart rant)

Andrew and I went to Walmart yesterday to pick up some scrapbooking embellishments for him to decorate his writing book for school. I didn't grab my purse before we left because Ross gave me money and I just shoved it in my pocket. (Wal Mart is only 5 minutes from my house and I didn't think I would need my purse for anything.)

Anyway, after deciding on doing an island luau theme and picking everything up, we headed to the check out counter. I needed to get home and get dinner over with so I could make it to the school for the 2nd grade information night for Rand.

Anyway, she runs through the papers, embellishements, etc.....and then she scans the glue sticks. Before putting them in the bag, she says, "Can I please see your ID?"
I'm like, "Huh? What are you talking about?" I was sure I hadn't put any booze or cigarettes in my cart *wink*, so what did she need ID for? She says, "I need to make sure that you are over 18." Ummmm.....I'm standing there with my three kids (the oldest being 10), all of whom have referred to me as mom a million times and I look at her gobsmacked. "Do I not look 18 to you, and you still haven't told me what you need my ID for?" She proceeds to tell me that Walmart is not allowed to sell glue to minors because kids are using as a drug and getting high off sniffing it.

What is this world coming to when you have to monitor who is buying glue sticks and cough syrup?!? Seriously.

Have I mentioned my dislike for Wal Mart???

Here's what the finished page looked like!

First Day Of School 2007

Wow! So, for the first time in 10 years, I spent 6 consecutive hours child free. I thought I would enjoy it a lot more, but I wound up not knowing what to do with myself and feeling a little useless.

Yes, the kids are back in school. Even Ryker is in preschool this year. And, if that doesn't tug at my heartstrings enough, I also realized that I am old enough to have a child entering 5th grade. WHEN THE HECK DID THAT HAPPEN?!? Andrew isn't old enough for 5th grade! He can't be! I think I'm going to attempt to stay in the same denial I was in about turning 30.......of course, that really didn't do me any good.

So here I sit in a bittersweet moment between bliss and dispair wondering how I'm going to handle my daytime hours without being "mom". I am trying to have a positive attitude about it. Perhaps this will be a good time for me to pick up my hobbies that I've let go to the wayside. I've got boxes of photos that I haven't had time to scrapbook. There are a zillion and one courses I want to take online, and at the local college and I guess I could try to do a bit more physical activity and finally get rid of these extra pounds that I still maintain are just "leftover baby fat". (I have a love hate relationship with my thyroid that is probably a blog unto itself.....but I digress).

So, I guess this will be the year of improving "ME". It's time to turn over a new leaf with regards to various aspects in my life, and this new chapter of being daytime kid free is as good a time as any to get to it.

Click to play Make your own Smilebox

Sex, Walmart and Videotape (well, not videotape......or sex)

Why does WalMart only exist to drive me insane? That question has become pretty much a staple of any visit to their supercenter. Along with me saying after every visit how much I hate Walmart and will never shop there again.

It's not just the throngs of zombiefied shoppers banging into me with their carts and standing dazed in the middle of the aisle so that I can't pass while they spend ten minutes staring at the spaghetti sauce and doing the maybe-this-one dance.

(The one where they stand there tapping their foot and then finally reach out for a jar... think better of it and draw their arm back.. tap for a little longer.. reach out again.. change their mind and chew on their finger nail. Tap.. twist and reach.. tap twist and reach.. tap.. tap.. tap... until you just want to ram them with your cart and knock them over for being so damn indecicive about something as idiotic as Traditional Ragu vs Traditional Prego.)

No, what really drives me batty are the lines.

Long lines stretched all the way back past the magazines and candy to the cardboard displays of whatever Chicken Soup For The Soul type book is currently making the rounds by appealing to the depressed and downtrodden.

(My hatered for all things Chicken Soup related is a blog unto itself. They took a corny idea and brought it from sappy to almost painfully embarrassing. I mean.. how many of these things are they going to come out with?? And how many sub-sections of society are they going to specifically target? Chicken Soup For The Teenager's Soul, Chicken Soup for the Cheerleader's Soul, Chicken Soup For The Person Born On A Tuesday's Soul, Chicken Soup For Albert L. Preston of 200 Wallaby Ln.'s Soul....)

And it never fails that there are always only two or three registers lit up.. and at least one of them is having some sort of pricing issue that requires an annoyed looking cashier to repeatedly get on their little phone and request help while their patience stretches thinner and thinner. "Price Check Assistance at Register 2, please.. .. Price check assistance at register 2.......assistance at register 2...... register 2.... Jacob, come give me a hand at register 2... JACOB!!!!"

And I just don't understand why there will be employees everywhere, but no cashiers. I see people in their Walmart uniform all over... stocking, talking, standing at that little stupid desk thing they always have set up to try and push you into applying for a WalMart card by playing up the junk they have arranged on the table to "tempt" you... but no one that can work a register.

( The card nazis are another pet peeve. "Do you have a WalMart card? If you apply today you get a free gift.".... "Free gift? What free gift?".... "This handy dandy WalMart logo umbrella featuring sturdy plastic wood-grain look handle and the ability to transform from the closed to open position with ease!"... "No thank you."... "But it's an umbrella.. a free umbrella featuring the Happy Face Walmart logo! You're just going to walk away? How can you walk away?? Come back! It could rain! IT COULD RAIN!!!")

But what I really don't understand is this... if you never plan on having more than three or four open lanes... then why in the hell build 35? That just seems like poor planning to me.

It's like they were a little over-confident on the size of the demand in comparison to the actual coverage they'd require.

In the spirit of constructive criticism, I'd like to offer WalMart some advice:

1. Know your patrons.. remember to stock up on the tried and true, but always keep a supply of the unexpected on hand. If I finish shopping without ever pausing to say "Oh, my Gosh! What is THAT??".. then you're just not putting enough effort into satisfying your customers.

2. Size does matter, but whether you're a shopette or a supercenter... at least know how to move your product.

3. You aren't the only game in town. If you can't provide proper supply for the demand I'll be forced to take my business elsewhere.. repeatedly.

Oh well.. have to run..

Yes.. I'm going grocery shopping. At Walmart.

And yes, I'm aware of how lame that makes me, ROFL

What will they remember?

I love looking in stores that sell a lot of inspirational "stuff". Signs, pictures, cards, etc. I see things such as:

*It's not the number of breaths in life that count, it's the number of moments that take your breath away

*Home is where our story begins

*Home is where you hang your hat

*Live like there is no tomorrow

*Dance like no one is watching

*etc, etc.....

And today I was pondering all of it. What is most important? What do I want my kids to be left with when I am gone? Will they care how many toys I have bought them? I doubt it. I want my kids to be left with memories of me. I want them to know that they were, without a doubt, loved beyond measure. I want them to remember how hard I tried to make our house a home. I want them to recall the laughter, the tears, the hugs, and that mom was there with open arms whenever she was needed.....and sometimes when they thought she wasn't. I want them to remember that mom taught them about the Gospel, that mom showed them how to love, how to be kind and that Heavenly Father is first in all we do. I can't put into words how much it would mean to me for my kids to recall their childhood, and remember these kinds of moments. And I know that as they grow, I will remember the moments, not the messes that I fret about now. God has given me such incredible blessings in these kids of mine.

So remember: Stop your chores and show your kids the rainbow. The chores will wait for the rainbow to be gone, but the rainbow will not wait for the chores to be gone.

When will I ever learn

OK, so apparently SPF 50 sunscreen is still not good enough for my poor pale Irish skin. We took the kids to Hawaiian Falls on Saturday, and although we all had sunscreen on, we all got sunburned. I, as usual, got it worse than anyone. I tried putting clothes on the kids to go to church on Sunday, and they screamed like I was murdering them. So, needless to say, church was out of the question.

Then, to top that off.....Randall and Andrew got in a scuffle and Andrew went face first into a metal bunkbed frame. So now he has a nasty black eye. Ugh!! What a weekend.

Bittersweet Canada Day

So, even though I now live in the great state of Texas, my heart still belongs to Canada. Tomorrow is the biggest national holiday Canada has......and I'm not there to celebrate. Part of my wants to jump on the next plane up there so that I can be with family and friends and catch up with my siblings and their kids, and cousins and their kids and mom and grandpa, and the aunts and uncles that I love and miss.

However, on the other hand, I am kind of glad I'm not going to be there. Canada Day has been a bit of a tough spot with me for the last 8 years; ever since grandma died. My grandma, Jeanette, was the epitome of a family matriarch. Mother of 6 kids, plus raising the son of her twin sister, could not have been easy on her. I have less than half that many kids and I go bonkers on a semi daily basis. She had over 35 grandchildren, and every single one of them believes, even to this day, that they were her favorite.

I miss her. I miss her a lot. I miss the sound of her voice; often loud, but always meant with love.....even when calling certain someone's "jackass". I miss the smell of her lotion and perfume. I miss the smell of her house at the holiday times. She always made the best fried chicken, potato salad, hot cross buns, Swedish bread......well anyway, the woman could cook.

She passed away quickly and quietly, no fanfare, no disease or injury, not even a goodbye. I think that's what made it so hard. The day before her death, she talked to my son on the phone, but I was wrapped up in something else and didnt' get the chance to myself. Luckily, I can say that there was nothing left unsaid between her and I. She knew exactly how I thought and felt about her, and I knew how much she loved me. In that, I take a great comfort.

Getting Older Sucks

There's a certain comfort in familiarity... in the gentle lull of routine. It sedates us. Makes us drift along contentedly in the day to day dramas of fixing lunch, buying groceries, and changing little clothes after a morning in the sandbox. So it's always a shock when you get jarred into reality for a moment or two.

One day you're 19 and invinsible... the next you're 30 and barely able to move in the mornings. The face in the mirror becomes unfamiliar, but you accept it as your own anyway because it's all you have. And so much of what you felt passionate about 10 years ago suddenly seems so silly, irrelevent, and worst of all... unattainable.

I suppose they'd call it "growing up"... but it feels far more like "shrinking in". It's as if the world gets smaller and smaller the older we get. Less people, fewer places. Our lives become confined by schedule and obligation... most of our "free" time spent wandering between the rooms in our homes... picking up this, vacuuming that, helping a child get dressed, preparing meals.

We move far away from friends, settle into domesticality.. and our world shrinks even more until we're just tiny satellites orbiting that shining star we call "Family".

And Family is beautiful. It's warm and draws us near.. keeps us locked on with it's emotional pull.. with the way a child's smile can burst forth like a solar flare and melt your heart.
There's no better place to drift than in the orbit of the people you love... that much is clear.

But unfortunately that satellite gets smaller the older you get.. shrinks as less and less of it is needed. Early on you dump out all the parts of you that don't fit.. make room for what you need to be. Sure you try to hold on to a few souvigniers of who you were before you took your place attending to Family.... but over the years they get scattered and misplaced.

And eventually you just get smaller and smaller and more and more insignificant... until one day there's simply nothing left of you at all. You leave to orbit into a completely new eternity, and while you stay relatively smaller.....your "family" has suddenly become enormously larger.

How's that for a little pre-menstrual melodrama? LOL. Can you tell I am having a hard time with being 30 this year? Ugh.. when did the years start flying past so fast??

Goofball Impunity

The best part about having a kid is the way it allows you to relive all the best parts of your own childhood, and to do things you never got the chance to.

Having kids makes you stop into places you'd probably normally pass by. Circus tent? Well, the boys need to see a circus! Carnival ferris wheel in the distance? Get on over there and buy those boys a corndog and a lemonade.. take them on the tilt-a-whirl.. they deserve it.

You do things like buy season passes to Seaworld just because they liked the movie "Finding Nemo", and you sit through all the little shows for them... but really it's for you, too. Because you forget how much fun it is to climb the rope ladder of a pirate ship, eat warm cotton candy, or ride on a carousel horse... but the memories come flooding back pretty quick when you share those experiences with your little bundles of bouncing excitement.

You get to plan cartoon birthdays with bright and colorful decorations.. wander party stores searching for the right pinata... run around the toy department pressing all the buttons, excitedly searching for the right gifts, and dragging your husband away from the Star Wars section while reminding him it's not his birthday yet.. so drop the x-wing fighter. (Okay, maybe that last one is just me.)

Having kids is like having a license to be a perpetual Peter Pan. You get to be a goofball with impunity... and that rocks.