Recovery

From a birthday party.

You thought I was going to talk some more about my injection? Nope, that's old news. The birthday party, well, I guess that's old news now. Thank goodness.

Being the first birthday party I've ever hosted, and living in a new town/ward... I didn't quite know what I was doing. We may have had too many girls there. We may have not had enough structured activities planned... or too many. Either way, it is DONE.

Today I'm starting to feel relief. After the entire family slept in until 10AM (I am still dazed and confused about how we made it to church by 10:55am), I realized that I had a tension-induced headache threatening migraine status. It dissipated in time for dinner and a second round of cake/ice cream/presents.

To cut to the chase, I'm glad to celebrate the birth of my first born, but NOW...

I am ready to celebrate the birth of another little baby. I hope we can calmly, quietly, and uneventfully celebrate Christmas for the next couple weeks. And I hope all of you get a little bit of peace and quiet this holiday.

Survived

I survived the big needle. It actually ended up being two spinal-area injections (between L4 and L5, and between L5 and S1, for any who care). Having things poking/moving around back there feels scary and unnatural. Having once endured a month-long spinal leak and spinal headache, I'm a little nervous about these things.

I was trying my best to stay calm as I stared at a beautiful outlet and listened to the nurses/doc discuss ways to make the room more sterile. Finally I admitted that I was beginning to freak out, and a nurse came over and started talking to me about the girls. We had a nice little discussion about their upcoming birthday party. Nurses can save the day. :) Doctors aren't so bad, either...

I survived the procedure, but I really shouldn't have gone out to eat afterwards. Even if I did discover that Laughing Planet makes AMAZING burritos and the girls loved the "funny one-eyed place". For all you bike-minded people out there (and Portland has a plethora), they make their burritos to fit perfectly into a bike water holder.

Tsk at your own risk!

Confession:
I lashed out at a woman in Walmart who had the nerve to "tsk-tsk" my parenting skills. Not only was she making her disapproval obvious, but she was sharing her disapproval with fellow by-standers. Ugh.

My words of advice: if you see a mother of young children in need of assistance, just help her out or give her one of those "we've all been there" looks. Tsk-ing will only incur the wrath of a fiery young woman. Coming from a mother who views daily lessons on how to conduct an efficient and painfully public tantrum, you simply DO. NOT. WANT. TO. GO. THERE.

In the way of other news...

Tomorrow I'm getting an epidural steroid injection for my lower back. Since the pain has progressively returned in the past year, it's about time to do something. I have very high hopes that this injection will help me progress in physical therapy and strengthening my back. In the mean time, I've been prepping for the worst- a couple days of bed rest. I doubt recovery will be that bad, but the TV is always a great back-up babysitter. And I've stocked the refrigerator with prepared dinners for the rest of the week, so at least we won't starve.

This injection is actually an answer to prayers. One of my small miracles in life was being able to schedule it for the ONLY week day Janson has off in December. I'm not too worried about the injection, although I shake a bit at the thought of a big scary needle digging around my spine.

Saturday the girls are having a joint fairy birthday party. It's the first time I've hosted a birthday party, and I was excited for about the first two weeks of planning. Right about now I'm ready to just do it and get on with Christmas. Visions of fairy wands, wings, and all things glitter dance around my head, and swim before my eyes. I've learned a few good lessons for future parties, but I think Saturday will be a very fun, memorable experience for the girls.

Sum Me Up

Fitting for a literary junkie, here's me in words:

You can try it out at Wordle.com!

No live rodents please

Feel free to help Grace feed smarties and kool aid to her custom made hamster. What genetics can do these days! Grace's fave colors these days are obviously green and purple. Have fun!

Spooky Shakespeare

Remember the witch's chant from Macbeth? Double, double, toil and trouble? It sounds like both second graders and strangers on the street can't help to read this chant without getting into it!



Great Halloween entertainment!

A Day

12:20am Grace wakes up whining. She's too congested to breath, but is just confused and uncomfortable so she continues to moan and groan. I was actually still awake trying to finish my book. Brandon Mull is a great author.

12:47am Ditto. This time I was not originally awake.

1:32am Ditto.

3:09am Ditto. (You get the idea.)

5:30am-ish (or sometime when it's still dark) Janson leaves for work. I remember that last night he said, "Oh man. I have to wake up early to lay some legs out to defrost." Huh?

7:10am Mari falls out of bed. I put her in mine, and think "I should probably get up." I realize that Grace is probably too sick to go to school, but we're in charge of bringing snacks. If I bring the snacks and not let her stay for school, lengthy tantrum will be inevitable. Instead of facing my decision, I fall back to sleep in our heavenly new pillow-topped $90 bed.

8:10am Jump out of bed. I have 20 minutes to get myself and the girls in the car. Just the thought makes me sweat. I'm still not sure if Grace will stay for school, but either way we're bringing snacks.

8:13am I grab clothes in the dark, hoping they match. Wake up Grace, beg her to hurry.

8:17am Debate between sacrificing the time to put on my contacts, or do Grace's hair. My eyesight wins out. I'm so selfish.

8:23am Grace is dressed. Hallelujah, for once she was fast. Get Mari out of bed.

8:25am Prepare preschool snacks. Girls climb into car, Mari still in her footie PJ's.

8:30am Realize there is rainy wind storm outside. Collect windbreakers and umbrella.

8:32am Pull out of garage. Remember that I forgot to brush my teeth.

8:50am Get double stroller out of car, get hit in head by trunk door that won't stay open in cold weather. Plop girls in stroller, they whine about windy rain.

8:52am Whip out umbrella, try to put it over girls, but wind is winning the battle.

8:53am Mari's eye is almost poked by delinquent umbrella, attempt to close it. Stranger on sidewalk helps.

8:55am Force Grace in bathroom stall before entering school room. Remember that community center gym locker room is closed for maintenance, so women sparsely clothed are wandering restroom. Shield the sights from Grace while enforcing her lengthy hand washing session

9:00am Liberally lather Grace's hands in hand sanitizer. Hug Grace, hand over snacks. Leave.

9:09am Outside Target, battle wind while carrying Mari, who can't walk in rain puddles with footie PJ's. Notice her PJ's are feeling damp around diaper. Remember that I have no diapers.

9:11am Enter Target, with prepared list in hand. (Sometimes I actually do prepare.)

9:24am Try to ignore Mari's discomfort due to full diaper. Give her toys/books for distractions.

9:37am Joyfully shopping. (No sarcasm this time.)

9:42am Shield Mari's eyes (and ears) from scary Halloween decor, which are conveniently placed next to the harmless, conservative wreaths I'm looking at.

9:54am Leaving Target, battle rain/wind with full-cart, crying, wet child and head-banging trunk door. What do I do for an hour before picking up Grace?

10:00am Burgerville drive-thru. Grab breakfast so I can take morning meds.

10:06am Enter community rec center. Sit at table, put food and toys in front of Mari.

10:12am Nicely dressed and blow-dried lady next to me looks at Mari in disgust. I look at Mari, as though for the first time today. She has extreme bedhead, is soaked to her heels and now has a very potently poopy diaper. Oh, and she refused her food, continuing to sneak sips from my Diet Coke. The sight of an infant drinking soda is so endearing.

10:33am If you are in need of a serious guilt trip, eat fast food in the front waiting area of a rec center or gym.

10:46am Third person in a row has sat down nearby and then soon moved to a seat farther away. Mari's smelly diaper is not helping my social life.

10:55am Mari pushes the double stroller down hall, hitting one trash can, two toddlers, one wheel chair, and nearly enters the men's restroom. (Why do so many public restrooms these days have no proper doors?)

11:00am Pick up Grace, leftover snacks, and rush home.

You get the idea. Things got better from there, as they often do when we're at home base. Random highlights of the rest of the day:

- Girls helped me clean bathroom. I found Grace "cleaning" Mari's bed with a vinegar/water spray bottle.

- Picnic in the living room. I watched Mari "comb" the carpet with her fork between each bite.

- Mari has had frequent bouts of suddenly saying "Peepee!" or "Poopoo!" and running to the toilet. She stares at the toilet, tugs at her diaper, and flushes the toilet. After this happened for the 3rd time today, I thought, "How old is she again? 19 months? 20? 21? Definitely not 23." I forego the calculations and just dig out the little potty from storage. I strip Mari down, and she happily sits on it for 30 minutes while watching Elmo's Potty Time. If she wants to potty train herself, sounds good to me. Otherwise, I'm making no real effort until she's 2 1/2 years old (and I KNOW she's not that old yet).

Moral of the story: There are many times today that I've been tempted to say, "I'm such a bad mom." But as an acquaintance taught me, it's only okay to say that as long as you complete it:
"I'm such a bad mom. But really, I'm NOT a bad mom. I'm NOT."

And it's true, I'm not. So there, blow-dried lady at the rec center. So there.

I'm such a good mother that I bought a new humidifier at Target, which will allow Grace to sleep through the entire night, which will allow ME to get more sleep, which will allow me to wake up earlier so I will be more prepared for the day. Right? Learn from my mistakes, right? At least I should be able to brush my teeth and put clothes on my youngest child. Right? Please tell me yes, because I'm having my doubts.

No matter what, Nana flies in tomorrow, and we are SOOOOOOO excited!

Whitney Houston

My friend Julianne blogged about this Whitney Houston song. I'm glad she had a link, because it's a great song. The lyrics are a little repetitive, but the meaning and idea behind it are great. We can all relate to it. Click here to watch. Enjoy!

Dear Primary

Dear Primary Kids and Teachers at Church,

Yes, I hear that my kid jumped up in Sharing Time and shouted,

"My mommy hits my daddy all the time!"

No, it is NOT TRUE.

I'm pretty sure Grace has seen her mommy give her daddy enough icky kisses to understand: Mommy LOVES Daddy. :)

I know you don't know me very well, but please believe me, I'm a good, funny gal who's just going to laugh it off. :)

With Slight Embarassment,
The New Woman in Church You Don't Know Yet

p.s. Oh how I wish someone, anyone from my ward actually read this blog. :) I think it's time for more Mommy-Daddy dancing sessions in the kitchen. You up for it, my love?

Where are the mothers?

I just finished reading an LDS historical fiction novel. I don't read LDS fiction very often, but since my Portland library had it I figured, what the hey?

Well, within the first few chapters I was irritated. There were no mother figures. Both main character families had mothers who conveniently died within a few years of the novel's story. Now, I know this is a frequent phenomenon in the media, but this was LDS fiction. You know, the whole focus-on-the-family, every-kid-needs-two-parents thing?

We all know about the trend at Disney. Poor Cinderella, Belle, Ariel, Jasmine, Nemo, Pinocchio, Snow White, and Lilo. Why is the temptation so strong to strike out poor mama? Or maybe, as in Toy Story, they keep her in the picture, but only has a headless, moving housewife machine body. (Does she not have a brain? A personality?)

My English major mind had to come up with my own thesis, and here are my two possible options:

1. People are afraid to try and accurately portray and do justice to the mother figure. Yes, sometimes we are superwomen and the portrayal of us could seem too good to be true. :) But this is fiction. If people can swallow a pumpkin-tuned-carriage, I think they can stomach a loving, endearing mother figure. I understand the concept though. I would feel overwhelmed to accurately portray in writing the goodness of my own mother.

2. The plots would be impossible. The mischievous, crazy adventures that make up the plots would often just not be plausible with a watchful mother on the scene. You know, the all-knowing, eyes-in-the-back-of-her-head, enforcer-of-rules mother. She would squash all those crazy plot ideas. Ariel's mother would have kept a close eye on Ariel and enforced the "do not go to the surface rule." Same for Belle and her escapade to the beast, and Jasmine and her excursion to the "forbidden" city. Ugh, I guess I am admitting that there is no fun when mother is around.

To refute that statement, I think I'll take my girls to the park. But those eyes-in-the-back-of-my-head will keep my children from being kidnapped by a gnome in the woods, thus making them the victims of a fantastic plot.

I think I have just stumbled upon a great masters thesis if I ever choose to go back to school. Hhmm.

Happy Women's Voting Rights Day

Everyday is a holiday, and today is Women's Voting Rights Day. Woohoo!

Mormon women were pretty active in the Women's Suffrage movement. There's a good chance that my own women ancestors played a role in allowing me the right to vote. Here's a picture of Susan B. Anthony with the Utah Women Suffrage leaders. (Just don't ask me which one she is. Feel free to point her out if you recognize her.)


Today is also Bad Poetry Day, so go write yourself a dreadfully bad poem! And because I'm sure you were all dying to know, tomorrow is Snuffleupagus' Birthday! Oh yeah, it's also the birthday of Bill Clinton and the Indianapolis 500 Speedway. I'm particularly fond of Snuffleupagus because it was a nickname of mine in high school.

While researching preschool lesson plans for Grace, I came across this huge list that verifies that, yes, everyday is holiday! Beware, this may give reason for some fairly ridiculous but pretty fun future postings. :) I am especially looking forward to National Punctuation Day, Singing in the Rain Day, National Toasted Marshmallow Day and Toilet Paper Birthday.

I'm looking forward to...

Three days of...

No washing dishes
No cooking
No picking up toys
No diapers
No laundry

Singing in a choir
Feeling validated for being a mom
Being around hundreds of other women like me
Roaming my college town
Seeing old friends
Attending classes pertinent to my life
Going to the temple whenever I want
... and absolutely NO cleaning.

Does it sound like a fictional fantasy land? The whole no-cleaning-cooking-laundry part does. But that beautiful land exists.

Ever since Janson started traveling all over the country a year and a half ago, he's promised that I'd be able to go on a trip of my own. Last fall I thought, "I'll go to BYU Women's Conference next spring, but that seems too faaaaaar away." Well, the conference came and went, and there is still no logical time in sight when I can make my get away.

So, the other day I made my plans. And they are happening. BYU Women's Conference 2010 here I come. It's eight months away, which gives me plenty of time to make it happen. It's so far away they don't even have any info online yet. But it's also so far away that it gives you women a chance to think about joining me. It would be so much more fun with someone I know! Now, the totally minor and insignificant task of finding someone to watch my kids for four days.

The One Year Anniversary

Today is the one year anniversary of when my back gave out, which led to events that changed who I am. From the outside I may not seem much different, but from the inside I hardly recognize the stranger from August 4th, 2008.

I know this seems like a silly anniversary to take note, but I will never forget this date. It changed my life just as much as each of my children's birthdays.

I remember days in October and November when I yearned for those first days of August, when I was oblivious of what was to come. I was jealous of my ability back then to carry my baby around, hold her when she was crying, and play with the girls.

I wish I could say that I'm glad I experienced the trials within the last year, and that I "would do it over again." But there is still too much scar tissue, both emotional and physical. I am definitely a stronger person in some ways, but there is also a bitterness that I desperately want to shed. I'm afraid that I am waiting for the chronic pain and back problems to disappear before I can say, "It was worth it." I am still having a difficult time following Elder Wirthlin's advice to "Come what may and love it."

That is probably the biggest lesson I have learned, and continue to work on: "Finding Joy in the Journey," as President Monson put it. During my worst moments, it was the emotional pain that wore me down. I hate to admit it, but these comments drove me crazy:

"You'll be so much stronger in the end"
"We have this life for trials"
"This too shall pass"
"Don't worry, this will all be over soon and you can get back to life."

Why? I know these comments were meant to comfort me. But as my bedrest and inability to mother dragged on, I couldn't just sit around waiting to be happy when it was all over. I'm so grateful for those two General Conference talks that I have mentioned. They brought hope into my life, and I still cling to those teachings.



I didn't mean for this post to be so negative. That has been a very unfortunate effect of my trials that I am trying to work through. My bad temper and pessimism I already had is aggrevated by constant and ever growing chronic pain. I think I could write a book on the exhausting emotional effects of chronic pain. But the chapter, "How to overcome" would be missing. :)

While I am still dealing with emotional scars, I would be an ingrate to not appreciate valuable lessons learned:

1. I try hard to appreciate the physical ability to mother my children- from changing their diapers, to putting them to bed, giving them meals, and being able to sing and dance with them. Every single day I give thanks that my body allows me to do that.

2. I am grateful for overall self-reliance, from being able to take myself to the bathroom and make my own meals, to exploring an entire town alone with my girls.

3. I am still brought to tears by the family and friends that have helped me, and continue to do so. I think am more sensitive to how others help me. Sometimes I want to give a big bear hug to the strangers that open a door so I can push through my double stroller.

4. I would hope that I am more keen to the needs of others, but I think I still have a ways to go. It is still difficult to see over the wall of my own pain and into the lives of others. That is embarrassing but true to admit.

5. I only sit when it is the only socially acceptable thing to do. I will probably never again be a leisure sitter, which is fine by me.

6. My phone is practically another appendage to my body. I live in constant fear that I will relive my experience from a year ago today, and be unable to move to call 911 or take care of my kids. My phone is my safety net, just in case.

7. For the sake of priorities, I have completely redefined my definition of necessity. I am very careful about what work, and how much I force my body to do. I have rethought necessities like, "Why make a new, unusual and time-consuming recipe when the whole family will be so much happier with spaghetti?" or "Do the girls really need an excursion every single day, when there's so much we can do/learn here at home?" I guess you could say that I'm learning to simplify.

8. Here is a valuable lesson I have appreciated just recently.

Having stayed at the hospital a few times, I have a fresh memory of life as a patient. Now that Janson is a resident and is asked to work long hours at the hospital, I am not as upset by this as I expected. I remember what it was like to sit on my hospital bed waiting all day for the doctor to come in with a new diagnosis, or those words like "You can finally get up and go to the bathroom yourself," or even better, "You can go home!" When I was impatient and ready for change, the nurses would say, "I'm sure the doctor will come in soon." And that "soon" always ticked by too slowly.

And when Janson jokes about patients that just don't seem to care and walk around with their little bum hanging out of their backless gown, I remember how easy it is to lose your dignity in a hospital. And I just can't laugh. Not yet.

So when Janson tells me about his old lady patient that sees his elbow near her door and says, "Oh Dr. Holm, oh Dr. Holm, please come here!" I fully understand. When I was in the hospital, I had my family on "doctor watch-out" for anytime they saw my doctor in the hallways.

And when Janson is three hours late, I remember when I begged my doctor to stay "just one extra hour in case symptoms changed." And he did stay, and the symptoms did change, and he released me from the hospital instead of making me stay through the weekend. His sacrifice of an hour got me out of the hospital three whole days early. (Which, in hospital time, is three whole decades.) I am grateful for the extra hour that doctor gave me, so I cannot complain when Janson works an extra hour with his own patients.

My favorite doctors were those that would sit down, learn my name, and not just tell me what was going on, but answer my questions. I know this took up valuable time, but when Janson is late coming home, I am hoping that he is being like my favorite doctors.

I am now learning how to share my husband. I can empathize with those I share him with, which makes the sharing a little easier. And when he tells me about treating an ingrown toenail so the man can once again go back to work and support his family, I am happy to share. I loved the health care professionals that understood when I said, "I just want to get home to my girls!" I know that sometimes Janson probably thinks that same line, "I just want to get home to my girls!" but I am glad he sticks it out, for us and for those I share him with.

Dear Rental DVD...

Dear The Pink Panther 2 Rental DVD,

I liked you a lot more before you got run over by the car.

I thought your humor was just the therapy I needed, but alas, good therapy never comes cheap.

With only the slightest affection,
Lynn

Smile with your eyes

From July 2009

Oh man, I love this picture. Just have to share. Have a great day everybody.

CREATE

Lately I have been thinking about the need to create and contribute. Today I was reminded of President Uchdtorf's absolutely fantastic thoughts on creating in his talk, Happiness, Your Heritage.

I know it is slightly ridiculous (possibly hideous) looking, but it makes me happy.

I have spent the last couple months carefully taking every single material possession we own and organizing, packing, unpacking, and reorganizing it into it's right, proper and meticulously clean place. While my husband thrives on such order and neatness, the confined limits slowly wear me down. So when the girls went to sleep uncharacteristically early tonight, I decided to create without thought to limits or boundaries.

Here are some good quotes from the talk:

" The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul."

"We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it into something of beauty- and I am not talking about the process of cleaning the rooms of your teenage children." (Woohoo! What fantastic words!)

"Don't let the voices of critics paralyze you- whether that voice comes from the outside or the inside." (Voices that say things like ridiculous or hideous.)

"The more you trust and rely upon the Spirit, the greater your capacity to create... As you take the normal opportunities of your daily life and create something of beauty and helpfulness, you improve not only the world around you but also the world within you."

Blast From the Past

Just came across this totally random picture from high school. This was Girls Camp when I was 15 or 16 years old. Good times. :)

Heidi, the frizzy hair contest is on! :)

The Hess Family

Ryan Hess, a fellow alum from Janson's podiatry school, was recently diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. Like us, he is a podiatry resident and his wife is a young stay-at-home-mom of two kids. When Janson entered podiatry school four years ago, Ryan was assigned as Janson's "big brother" to help orient him. It is heartbreaking for us to learn of their current trials. It feels good to know we can help in a small way by sharing their story.

For the past couple weeks Janson has been doing orientation for residency. As a wife I have attended a couple of the social functions. Every time I am introduced to a doctor, resident or spouse at these events, I get a comment or look that equals this, "Are you ready for three years of hell?" All I can do is shrug it off, but inside my fear grows. Janson's schedule is supposed to be grueling, along with work to take home and many hours on call. I already hate his pager! :)

With word of the Hess family struggles, I am humbled. We have had our own share of learning opportunities from major health crises, but nothing life or death. Read of their commitment to press on gives me hope.

Book Review: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

"Because," explained Mary Rommely simply, "the child must have a valuable thing which is called imagination. The child must have a secret world in which live things that never were. It is necessary that she believe. She must start out by believing in things not of this world. Then when the world becomes too ugly for living in, the child can reach back and live in her imagination. I, myself, even in this day and at my age, have great need of recalling the miraculous lives of the Saints and the great miracles that have come to pass on earth. Only by having these things in my mind can I live beyond what I have to live for."

I've stopped reviewing books on here because I'm completely hooked to GoodReads.com where I can review to my heart's content. If you have any interest in reading, I strongly encourage you to check it out! It's my new "facebook" where I can network, because honestly I'd rather know what my friends are reading than "what celebrity" they are most like.

BUT, I just finished A Tree Grows In Brooklyn by Betty Smith and I have to share my love for it. I can't believe I was never required to read this in any of my dozens of English classes. If I ever teach college English, I'm going to find some excuse to squeeze this into the required reading list.

Betty Smith makes this a fabulous book about America, mainly Brooklyn, in the early decades of the 1900's. I ended the book so sad to be finished. My joy in the end was partly due to her uncanny ability to make the plot and characters come full circle. It was beautiful to watch the younger generation say and do some of the same things that their parents had done, to show how they have or have not become like their elders.

My only complaint is that it does ring a little true to "happily ever after." I would not have a problem with this style of ending, except that early in the book Betty Smith so vividly voices her distaste for just such endings. After reading little Francie's annoyance of the plots which have a prince charming come save the day just in the nick of time, it was a little disheartening to see Smith use nearly the same technique as the mother just so happens to marry a wealthy man and all their problems are solved. I can only assume that Smith was merely writing what she was accustomed to reading.

Love Story Meets Viva La Vida

At random moments through the day I think about this song.

I have fallen in love with this song, and I can't wait to get my hands on the sheet music. If you like Jon Schmidt, Coldplay, Taylor Swift or just checking out new music, listen to this.

FYI, the sheet music is not out yet. Boohoo. It would make sense that they have a lot of red tape to jump through before publishing. I am hoping they write a stand-alone piano solo version, otherwise this song won't sound nearly as good with strictly the piano part. Anywho, listen to it, and thanks my sis Sara, for the introduction. It's beautiful, just like you.

Mr. Red Wall

I love him. I hate him. He's trying to take over my life. He's trying to control my every move. He sits there staring at me every day, all day long. He makes me happy. He brings me joy. He brings me stress.

He's my red wall.

From May 2009

When Janson found this place during house hunting and told me about the red wall, I knew he had me in mind. I felt (and do feel) so touched that he had my tastes in mind. He did an outstanding job. I hear that Portland is a fun place, but so far all I want to do is sit and enjoy my home. And I was stoked about my new red wall.

But.

I love red. I love red so much that I bought red accessories to color-up my past drab apartments. So, I have
red kitchen chairs
red blankets
red toy boxes
red kitchen baskets
red pillows
red pot holders
red wall decor
red picture frames
red tablecloths
red recliner chair
red bookcases
red kitchenaid
red crock pot
red whisk
red measuring cups
red measuring spoons
red spatula
red phone
red leather flats
red chuckies
red jewelry
and red hair.

That last one is obviously not by choice, and perhaps caused my interest in the color altogether.

So, can you see the problem? Now that I have a big, bold red wall, EVERYTHING is red. Red swims before my eyes. When I look at my red kitchen chairs, I feel a slight need to puke. Partly because all of the red slightly clashes, and blends together, and gets lost into each other. Ack.

So yesterday when we went to IKEA I was drooling over anything green, blue, yellow, orange or just about any other color but... well, you know.

Mr. Red Wall is making my decorating efforts quite difficult, and frustrating. All because I've been a bit obsessed. In the past. Oh yes, only in the past. I have been cured. Just as mothers may cure their children's desire for chocolate cake by making them eat, and eat, and eat an entire chocolate cake in one sitting. (Matilda, anyone?)

I am cured of red. I now fully understand: moderation in all things.

Learn from my mistake. Don't make your entire living room bright yellow. I know you're dying to buy that bright yellow polka dot sectional from IKEA to add to your yellow wall and coffee table, but refrain. You will regret it. I will set up an intervention if you do, and it will not be pretty. Well, maybe prettier than my clashing red wall and kitchen chairs.

My Miracle Worker

To follow up on my last post:

Janson came home from taking his last board exam, brought my car back to life with a new battery, and revived my brand-spankin'-new phone. Wow. Thank goodness I married a miracle worker.

Unfortunately, after performing above miracles, he started his car and a warning light came on. Someone up there wants to keep us on our toes.

What are the chances?

Last night's schedule of events:

My phone rings. I'm standing outside the kitchen at church, and I drop Mari to answer the call.

The call is short. But this is my brand new phone that I love so much, so I enjoy using it.

I put the phone down on the kitchen counter to pick up crying Mari.

Mari immediately grabs the phone and drops it in a near glass of water.

I drop Mari and start hyperventilating.

Mari runs away, and Grace needs my attention.

I start taking my new phone apart, dry it off.

I'm trying to hold a conversation with Grace while fix my phone.

Mari is screaming bloody murder outside the Bishop's office for 5 min, which makes me sweat profusely.

I say my quick goodbyes to the church crowd. This is my last event with this ward.

I open the car door, I notice that the power locks don't seem to kick in.

Automatically I know that is bad. Very bad.

The girls get in the car and start climbing around the seats.

I try to start the car. Nothing. Again. Again. Again.

Mari is jumping in a leftover tray of brownies from refreshments.

Grace is belting out Dora's "backpack" song.

I call Janson and say, "My car won't start," and the call drops.

I repeat that short call, this time I hear him say, "I'm coming" before the call ends.

While waiting for him, I listen to the car's "open door" ding/light attempt to do it's stuff. It's pitifully struggling.

I watch my spankin' new, expensive phone start calling people randomly.

I give in and turn off my phone.

Janson shows up. Tries to jump the car. Nothing.

Mari is running around the church parking lot at 9:10pm.

Grace is rolling around in the grass.

Janson gives me a hopeless look.

Mari's diaper is so full that her skirt and diaper both fall down to her ankles, in the church parking lot.

I go inside and change her diaper.

Come out, we all get in Janson's car. Try not to talk about my car.

The girls are screaming, and we are screaming in our heads.

This morning it is still sitting in the church parking lot. Unless it's been towed.

Janson is taking Board Exams Part III as I write this.

Then we'll tackle the car, and his parents will fly in from ID, and tomorrow we'll go to graduation receptions downtown, and clean and pack, and my family will get into town, and Friday morning I'll wake up really early to take the girls to a babysitter and we'll all try to catch a train to go downtown and see Janson graduate into a doctor, and then we'll finish packing and cleaning and then early Saturday morning we'll get the moving truck, the ward will help us move out/ clean up and we'll be off.

But first I have to worry about my dead Camry, wearing some various expired stickers, sitting in a parking lot a block away from the police station.

I am not thinking about my new phone, which my husband creatively wrapped in a highly absorbent diaper. (Hey, whatareya supposed to do when the blow dryer and rice are packed?)

What are the chances? Important life events seem to be a magnet for car trouble, and phone trouble, and whatever kind of trouble is available at the moment. I know I'm not the only sufferer of this odd, unfortunate tradition. We can all relate in some way or another, right? We all have these insufferably hard weeks that surround an incredibly good event. Whew.

Lingering Mother's Day

I'd be amiss without noting my Mother's Day! It has always been a sensitive holiday for me, because I know that it is a hard day for some. But this Sunday I felt more of the importance to recognize our own mothers, which is something we all have and can celebrate (unless you are a medical miracle, which in that case, congrats to you!).

This holiday has been exciting for me, because I can honestly say I am a MUCH different mother than last year. Being temporarily unable to physically fulfill the tasks of motherhood has a way of doing that to you. Poopy diapers really aren't the worst things in the world (although Janson will tell you I act differently when he's around). And the kids watched so much TV during my hiatus that I'm now trying to make up for it.

Grace sang (er, stood up and moved her mouth a couple times) in sacrament meeting for the very first time, and I grinned from ear to ear. As she stood up there with the Primary, I realized that she was the youngest one up there. She has a December birthday and is the youngest Sunbeam, therefore the youngest kid in the entire Primary. Wow. I think she holds her own quite well.

Janson gave me exactly what I wanted: he did more of the chores so I could be lazy and hang with the girls, made me amazing beef and broccoli stir fry, and gave me a stereo for my kitchen. We've already had a few dance parties in there!

We ended the day with a trip to Independence Grove (and mandatory cheesecake), which has become my favorite park within the last couple weeks.

Any park that is safe enough that I can ignore my kids is good in my book! Hhmm, I'm really racking up some "good mother" points today.

On a side note, the holiday talk has left Grace saying "mother" instead of "mommy." It's pretty hilarious.

"No, mother is going to make my bread and jam!"

There is something about the title of mother that makes me feel so undeserving. Yes, I can handle Peanut-Butter-Jelly-Making Mommy, or Snot-and-Spit-Up-on-my-Shoulder Mommy, but Creating-Respectable-Citizens Mother? No, I think it's time to fix the toddler's verbage, and fast.

A Good Drug Problem

I love this article my brother sent me:

I'm just beginning to realize how much effort, discipline and self-control it takes to "drug" our kids. It is so much easier to just let this one tantrum, or this one lie, or this one teaching moment just pass by. I'm grateful for the parents of our past who "drugged" us up to make us respectable people.

Check out the family pics

In case you don't peruse our family blog, HolmFeet, you can click on this picture to see more of our fun family pictures. You'd think that family pictures with a toddler and baby would be a nightmare, but it was actually a super fun night!

From Family Pictures 2009

Thanks, Heidi, for a great night and awesome pictures!

Quote of the Day

Today as I subscribed to The GreatSchools Blog I was reminded of this fabulous quote:

In the end, there is no program or policy that can substitute for a parent, for a mother or father who will attend those parent-teacher conferences, or help with homework, or turn off the TV, put away the video games, read to their child. I speak to you [...] as a father, when I say that responsibility for our children's education must begin at home.

Ten points goes to the first person who can tell me who said this. :) Some of you may be pleasantly (or not so pleasantly) surprised.

With Grace's school years sneaking up, I've started thinking more about education. This quote reminds me of the best $3 I've spent this month, which bought me this:

Haha, isn't it beautiful? If you can't tell, it's a kitchen timer. Since I knew she would eventually hate it, I let Grace first claim this as her own with stickers and artwork. Now it tells her when the computer or TV needs to come off. It hasn't completely erased her tantrums, but she doesn't scream quite as much when I pry her away from a screen. We're getting a little better, the two of us, one small step at a time.

Store-Bought Cakes and New Shoes

I love my husband because...

he runs out to the grocery store and hunts through the aisles to find something odd I'm craving, and I'm not even pregnant.

he insists that we buy a store-bought cake for our ward bake auction, because he knows I will otherwise slave and stress over something homemade (although I was incredibly embarrassed to see the name HOLM next to our blatantly obvious generic store-bought cake).

he puts up his own blog posts just often enough to show he cares

he hauls out his equipment and clips my toe nails without complaint (sounds silly but very helpful when you have a bum back :))

he always says "Sure" when I voice my need to buy new shoes, like today... like RIGHT NOW.

he lets the girls run and tackle him two dozen times before bedtime.

Love ya Janson!

Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.

Elder Dallin H. Oaks quoted this saying at our Stake Conference Broadcast last Sunday. It comes to mind at least a dozen times a day. I love it.

It perfectly aligns with all those other great words: green, frugal, self-reliant, creative, responsible, and my favorite, broke.

Organized Dried Fruit

This is a cheesy, sentimental post.  So, if you're not up for that kind of thing, feel free to scroll down and watch a sweet dance video.

On the radio today I heard a song that mentioned, "waiting for my dreams to come true."  It got me thinking about what dreams I am waiting for.  I was a little stumped.  Maybe I didn't give myself enough dreams to look forward to, or I'm living my dreams.

I have two beautiful, intelligent and spunky daughters that make my world go 'round.  Something about their presence makes my life feel whole and complete, even if there is actually a lot left to be desired or ignored.  I am blessed to stay home with them all day, so if Grace wants to make beaded bracelets or Mari wants to get jiggy with it, I'm there.  

My husband has an incredible work ethic, both in and outside the home.  Yes, the words "student loans" make my whole body shudder.  But for too long we've lived in eager anticipation of the nearing graduation, and now that it comes, I'm realizing there will still be trials.

My husband was offered a job, a rare blessing for this era.  

We have super fun and faithful families.

We have friends that are unconditionally "there" for us and seemingly blind of our annoying traits.

Grace is potty trained (hallelujah!) and Mari can walk (er, bittersweetness).

I can walk, sit, bend, drive, lift and carry my babies and their various paraphernalia.

I can cook in my own kitchen.

I just organized all of my dried fruits, nuts, sugars, baking goods and canned food.  Woohoo!

Yes, we have our financial stressers, arguments, too-small-apartment, teething child 

(three teeth at once, including two molars!), poopy pant messes, and a few pounds to lose (and then a few, and a few more...).  

But, life is good.  Very, very good.

Do Re Mi in Train Station

I wish I had been there! I'm pretty sure I would have been trying to push Grace and Mari onto the dance floor, even if it was just so I could join the fun. I love the old woman at 2:47.

Maybe this could become a regular tradition at malls, train stations and airports, but with the Electric Slide or the Margarita... familiar dance moves. :) Who would I bring that up with? Maybe President Obama would be in support? :)

Book Reviews: The Wednesday Letters and Eggs

Just finished Jason Wright's The Wednesday Letters. I was sad when it was over. I love books that give hope to the institution of marriage. And not just those Nicholas Spark marriages were everything is always lovey dovey and perfect. What relationship is actually like that? This story shows a few relationships that withstand and endure some very tough and real problems. It's also pro-life and emphasizes the importance of forgiveness. Sometimes the writing was a little bland, but overall I loved the story.

Within the last 24 hours I finished this quick read: Eggs by Jerry Spinelli. I can always trust Spinelli (author of Maniac Magee) and his wife Eileen for some good entertainment. Although this is a young adult novel, I'd rate the writing much more entertaining and artistic than The Wednesday Letters. Spinelli strings words together in a refreshing, unusual way. There were many sentences that I read over again just to appreciate the art and image created.

New Holm Feet Posts

Since Holm Feet is private and you can't get updates on new posts, here's the update for ya.

I posted A LOT on Holm Feet yesterday.

There are pictures of tea parties, goats, a wedding, a dust storm, a book mountain, a snow storm, many many family members, and a couple cute girls.

And some not-so-witty, possibly boring writing attached to the pictures, including stories about a sing-along toddler CD, diaper breaks in the BYU Wilk, and our take on Wyoming's economy strategies.

Hope to see you on Holm Feet! If you want access to this private blog, send me an email at mariko.holm@gmail.com. I keep it better updated, and it includes pictures of two cute girlies. :)

Book Comments: The Shack

Notice I didn't write book REVIEW? That's because I haven't finished the initial view, so I can't REview yet. My amazing friend Brooke gave me The Shack by William P. Young. I completely trust her choice in books, so I'm excited to dig into this one. It's written to have the potention to be a modern day Pilgrim's Progress. That bumps up my enthusiasm a notch.

Reading the first few chapters has taken me for ride. The protagonist's six-year old daughter is kidnapped and presumed dead. Oh sad sad! I'm grateful that there are many more chapters to read, as the main character heals spiritually.

What this book has done is made me recognize my greatest fear in life: to have one of my children kidnapped. Especially if they are never found again, and the what/where/why and big IF is just left hanging over your head... all.... your... life. Oh my goodness. As of right now, I don't know how I'd mentally handle the stress. I guess that is what William P. Young plans to explore.

Has anyone read The Shack? I'd be interested to hear some comments, some cheers, some rootings as I continue this great read!

Coconut Chicken Curry

I'm on a blog/facebook/email/internet burnout these days, so when I actually get an itch to blog, I have to take it and run with it. Every once and a while I run into a new recipe that I not only label a "keeper," but I continue to think about days later. This is one of them:

Coconut Chicken Curry


Curry has not been a favorite of mine, so it's a big deal that I still drool at the thought of this dish. It's a crockpot recipe, which gives it extra points in my book. The recipe is so easy I can tell you the basics off the top of my head:
- browned boneless, skinless chicken breasts (I cut them into 2-3 in. chunks)
- 1 cup light coconut milk
- 2 Tbsp. curry powder
- 2 medium potatoes, diced

Dump it all in the crockpot and cook on low at least 5 hrs. That's the general idea. Serve over rice, and waa-laa!

This came from my all-time favorite food magazine/website, Taste of Home's Healthy Cooking. They always have fun stuff to try: tonight I tested out their Spinach Feta Frittata and tomorrow it'll be their Apricot-Glazed Salmon. Fun times. I'm no chef: my goal is to not burn or ruin any expensive food. Sounds easy, right? Ha.

Temples

A link to this video was put on LDS.org in response to the controversial Big Love episode. Great little video.

Creative Juices...

... are flowing. I needed something light-hearted and fun in my life, so here goes.

I have come up with our future bedroom. The idea first came to me when I saw this:

(Barefoot Contessa's bedroom in her barn)

and then I was reminded of this beautiful artwork:

(found on Cluck Cluck Sew)

My friend Heidi warned us not to look at her cousin's quilt blog to avoid addiction, but I paid no heed since I'm not a quilter. Well, now I am an aspiring one. Her work is so dang cute and fun, it makes me want to go to a fabric store tomorrow!

But, those pictures are just the inspiration. Picture the quilted cover (not tied) made out of a variety of white-on-white patterned fabric. You may say boring or disasterous (and for any other room in the house, I'd agree) but I say beautiful! When joined with the Contessa's inspiration room, it sounds lovely.

It looks simplistic and bland, but a nice, clean escape is just what we need in a bedroom. The kids don't really go into our room, so the whiteness shouldn't be TOO big a deal. I'm also picturing fake plants instead of real ones (no green thumb here!), our collection of temple pictures put in white frames, a dab of dark wood just like the picture, and a big white dresser that we really do need. Oh, and a jet bathtub in the adjoining master bathroom, but let's not get carried away here. :)

Call me materialistic- I call it hopeful, fun, creative planning. I'm excited to slowly start this transformation once we move. No rush here, I'll probably gather fabric pieces for at least six months. And then spend the next six months learning how to quilt...

The Silver Quill, Silver Words

Today I ran into this Letter to the Editor in the Idaho Press-Tribune.  It looks like the paper awards one letter per week the "Silver Quill Award," and this letter received it.  I also give it two thumbs up.   

In the past several months I have sat idly by as people I love and admire have fallen victim to negative remarks regarding their political and social views.  I am ashamed of my passive stance, and hope this post can show my support of family and friends.  This article voices my own recent sentiments. Since it's not too long, and the link is probably not permanent, here is the actual letter:

Saying that ‘church’ must help means we all must help
Friday, February 20th, 2009

During conversations with several family members who happen to be very politically opinionated in one direction over the other, I heard the statement that the "churches" need to pick up the slack socially and financially where the public (government) can not as they did during the Great Depression.

I find this statement hypocritical, as they always seem to exclude themselves from "the church." More than once I've asked them, "Who is the church, and aren't you part of that?" I'd also like to ask them, "What part of someone's medical bill are you willing to pick up or who's mortgage payment can you pay, in addition to your own, until that family finds work again and can get back on their feet?"

The only response I've gotten is that they don't want government involved in regulating business in any way and, again, that the churches need to get more involved. I'd also like to remind them there were not many churches during the Great Depression that were able to save people's farms, homes or businesses or pay outstanding medical bills.

What many churches were able to do was to open their fellowship halls to provide meals and a place to sleep and wash up until those suffering got back on their feet.

I try to convince my family members that for the most part social programs are not a bad thing, that they help people recover and become productive again, but I get labeled a liberalist, socialist or, heaven forbid, a Democrat, which somehow calls my relationship with Christ in question.

The sad thing is that this view is sometimes spoken from the pulpit. Regardless, I'll continue praying for my family and my country and ask that God bless them and America.

Written by Michelle Turner of Greenleaf, Idaho

You Are Not Alone (Michael Jackson)

I got a kick out of doing this Facebook survey. I'd love to read anyone else's answers who do it. Some of the answers are great!

1. Put your music player (i.e. iTunes) on shuffle.
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!
4. Tag friends who might enjoy doing the game as well as the person you got the note from.

IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY" YOU SAY?
Girl (Beck)

WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
High Speed (Coldplay)

WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL
Original of the Species (U2)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Allstar (Smashmouth)

WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
Silent Night (Enya. Yes! Silent nights are my goal!)

WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Holy, Holy, Holy (Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Haha! I doubt it.)

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Strength, Courage & Wisdom (India Arie. Very true.)

WHAT IS 2+2?
Families Can Be Together Forever (LDS Chorus. This totally fits with our little family!)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
The Sorcerer's Apprentice (Philadelphia Orchestra. What does this say about my choice of friends?)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Canned Heat (Jamiroquai. Yes, the heat is all canned up.)

WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Before I Take The Sacrament (Primary Chorus)

WHAT WILL YOU BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Too Darn Hot (Ella Fitzgerald)

WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Boot Scootin' Boogie (Brooks and Dunn)

WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Bless the Broken Road (Rascal Flatts)

WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Brown-Eyed Girl (Van Morrison. Sorry, this one isn't true.)

WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Love You Madly (Cake)

WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
Castle on a Cloud (Les Miserables)

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?
I Love You Anyways (Travis)

WHAT'S THE WORST THING THAT COULD HAPPEN?
Reverence Is Love (Primary Chorus)

HOW WILL YOU DIE?
Human Hands (Sondre Lerche. Oh no! By human hands?!)

WHAT IS THE ONE THING YOU REGRET?
The Last Emperor- Theme (John Williams, London Symphony)

WHAT MAKES YOU LAUGH?
Yesterday (James Taylor version. So true, so true.)

WHAT MAKES YOU CRY?
Cross My Heart (George Strait. Yup, a broken heart.)

WILL YOU EVER GET MARRIED?
Freedom For My People (U2. Being already married, this title makes me laugh.)

WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST?
Nine Million Bicycles (Katie Melua. Oh yes, this song reminds me of China.)

DOES ANYONE LIKE YOU?
Across The Universe (Rufus Wainwright. Maybe someone across the universe, somewhere.)

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME, WHAT WOULD YOU CHANGE?
If I Had A Million Dollars (BNL. Haha!)

WHAT HURTS RIGHT NOW?
Shake My Sillies Out (Raffi)

WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?
You Are Not Alone (Michael Jackson. Hopefully I am not alone in getting a kick out of doing this note!)

I Love You More Than Blank

My submission has been put up on I Love You More Than Blank! Right now it's in the eatables category, third row down, all the way on the right. If you know me, you know that it really shouldn't be in the eatables category.

If you submit your own, or at least know what you would submit, leave it in a comment. Fun fun!

McDonald's Trip Planner

No, I am not a McDonald's addict. We are driving from IL to ID and I've been looking for places along the way for the girls to stretch their legs and be entertained. When we literally strap them to a chair so they can barely move (Wouldn't you hate that? Having no control over when you were freed and when you weren't?) for 24 hours straight, the least we can do is entertain them a little.

I just discovered this nifty McDonald'strip planner where you input you're trip route, and it shows you all of the McDonald's along the way. You can specify if you want McD's just .5 miles off your route, or 2 miles if you're willing to get off the beaten path. Among the created list of restaurants, you can see which ones have playplaces.

Unless it has a playplace, I might as well be down the road at the cheaper Wendy's, or the better-food Burger King, or Subway, or KFC, or Pizza Hut, or Olive Garden (Yeah, that last one is wishful thinking. We just tried Olive Garden and learned that Mari is not at a good eating-out age.) Most likely I'll be pigging out on their salads. I'm not afraid of hopping from one McDonald's to another... it reminds me of a childhood cross-country trip where Dad wanted to win the McDonald's Monopoly game. Yum.

Burger King and Carl's Jr. (aka Hardees) have playplaces, too, but they don't specify online which locations have playplaces. So for anyone interested, there ya go!

Book Review: The Testament

This John Grisham book is a rare adult book that I thoroughly enjoyed! I rolled my eyes at the beginning when the setting was that of millionaires and billionaires (because, really, how in the world are we supposed to relate to three houses and a jet?!), but quickly he alternated chapters with third world Brazil. Grisham did a great job of comparing the two different lifestyles. If you got depressed with the impoverished life in Brazil, you were quickly navigated to the life of America's wealthiest. And then when you were beginning to feel sick from the millionaires wasting money while you struggle with your rent, Grisham switches you back to Brazil.

I liked learning a little more about the Brazilian "outback" and the Christian missionary efforts taking place there. I also enjoyed just enough legalese to work my brain. To my surprise, the main character (of course a lawyer) actually converts to Christianity and Grisham explores his spiritual progression. I kept waiting for some anti-organized-religion spin (as we so often find in media these days), but it never came! Not only that, but it includes anti-drinking, anti-smoking and anti-adultery sentiments. Sweet! According to my limited knowledge, that's a pretty different take for Grisham.

Beware: the book has a sad little twist at the end, but I thought it was a good sign that I got emotional about it. (A lot of times when sadness comes at the end I just yell, "Ah, c'mon!" and throw the book out the window.)

So check it out, it'll give your brain a little exercise, or vacation... whichever way you see it.

Red Rim Rising

Planet Beautiful Brickfish

So my brother entered a photography contest to try and make some money to help pay for schooling and his upcoming wedding. If you like...
1. the Teton mountains,
2. Idaho/Wyoming,
3. BYU-Idaho students,
4. a temple marriage hopeful,
5. scenic photography,
6. surfing good web pages
7. clicking on buttons that say "Vote,"
8. helping people make money at no cost to you,
9. my brother, or
10. me!

...then think about voting for his beautiful photo. Thanks!
P.S. I think you can vote every eight hours. ;)

Young Women Blogs

Yesterday as I surfed for new sites worthy of my RSS feed subscription, I came across this massive list of Mormon blogs. Check it out, you'll most likely find something that relates to you.

Since I have a Young Women calling, I looked up and found some really great related blogs.

The first one, Go Ask Laurel, looks great for Young Women. I sent the link to my Young Women Facebook friends. They can write into Laurel (a Deseret Book employee and seemingly really cool gal) with questions about boys, family, friends, etc. I see how valuable this is because so often the girls ask questions about their life and my mind just pulls out a great big, "HUH?" So not only can the girls peruse and possibly write into Laurel, but I can look through and get ideas about how to respond to the Young Women.



The second blog, Beginnings New, looks like a great resource for us YW leaders. The author is a YW advisor, so she talks a lot about the lessons. This is very refreshing to me. Many of the online YW resources have great hand-outs, clip art and activity ideas. But it's hard to find discussion about the lessons, the theme, and the spiritual and emotional purpose of Young Womens. After reading a few of her posts related to the recent Sunday lessons, I can see how valuable this could be as a teacher. Her posts allow you to exercise your brain power and thoughts in relation to the subject you'll be teaching the Young Women. Whether or not you want to use any of her resources for her lesson, it gets you thinking on the subject.

I thought I'd just pass these resources on to anyone who's interested. Enjoy!

Love Is Not A Fight

Who's tired of snow?

My sister sent me this picture:

I think it's pretty fitting, since Sara got stuck in a bad storm driving from Idaho to Wisconsin. Her escapade included unplanned stays in Billings, Bismark, and a new set of tires. I hope we have better luck when we make the reverse trip in a a few weeks, especially since we'll have a three year old and one year old in the back seats.

Now this is my brother's picture:

He's a Recreation Management major at BYU-I, and over the break he did a week long "Winter Summit" trip in the Idaho mountains. He earned three well-deserved credits in that week. Where are my sister's credits for surviving her trip across the plains?

As of three days ago our snow had nearly all melted away. Then Grace said, "It's snowing, it's snowing!" I didn't even look out the window because, frankly, I didn't believe her. I figured she was looking at a little pile of snow outside, or more likely, has just begun to see snow floating in front of her eyes ALL THE TIME. In the end, she was right, and it is still going strong.

I haven't been out in the snow too much this winter, but I wouldn't mind being done with it. Yesterday I was daydreaming about hiking trails and playgrounds. (And NOT the hiking trail pictured above.) Soon enough! For now I need to enjoy the beautiful white winterland. I know that come August I will be daydreaming of sledding, snowball fights and snowmen.

Need to vent about your own little (or big) snow experience this winter? Do share. :)

Book Review: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

I suffer from nontheateritis.  Many of us parents of young children suffer from it.  I rarely get to the theater.*  I've been itching to read The Curious Case of Benjamin Button since hearing that it's written by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I got it from the library today and read it within an hour.

In case you've missed the movie previews, it's a fun little short story about a man that is born old and "ages" backwards. The natural first question seems to be "How was he born?" Well in the story Fitzgerald conveniently ignores that topic. For those not suffering from nontheateritis, how does Hollywood answer the question?  

I was pretty depressed at the end, as I read of the death of a "newborn" baby.  Sorry if that was a spoiler, but I had assumed that ending before opening the book.  It was a downer for me, and to pep myself up I plan to start the Harry Potter series within the hour.  It was a good quality read, though, so I'll recommend the short story to anyone.  

The time it took you to read this post, you could have read a third of the Benjamin Button story.  So stop reading mediocre internet writing and crack open some Fitzgerald.

*The past six weeks being an exception.  I went to Twilight twice with my sister.

"Brooke-Lynn"

I came across this picture in my room today, and the memories came flooding back.  We were the inseparable pair self-titled, "Brooke-Lynn."  

I really like this picture, which is probably ten years old.  Do you remember, Brooke?  We created so many memories out of our high school hours spent singing, dancing, acting, prowling BYU-Hawaii campus, beach hopping, and being English nerds.  It wasn't surprising that we ended up at BYU majoring in English together.  There we gradually followed our separate paths.  We've endured our own little ups and downs, and now we're miles apart and go months without talking.  But, I think our friendship will withstand it all.  Love you Brooke.