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**POST DISCLAIMER** I apologize for being bodily function obsessed. Perhaps I've been a mom too long or maybe it was my childhood dream of becoming a nurse or a physician. Either way, this is another post about my monthly. If you don't want to read it, don't. No offense on my end and hopefully none on yours. Also, not quite a disclaimer but a definite side note, I had to post a picture of women walking on the beach as it is so reminiscent of feminine product commercials which (gratefully) never show the product in use but rather show the most ridiculous shots of women playing tennis or...walking on the beach. Clearly designed by men. My commercial would show a woman curled up in the fetal position, crying on her bed surrounded by empty chocolate wrappers.

I must be getting ready to start my period. I'm craving chocolate like crazy -- I made dark chocolate fudgey brownies last night with chocolate chips mixed in and more chocolate chips melted on the top for a frosting. I want salt. Potato chips sound delectable. Nachos. Pickles. Chinese food. Heck, I should just go buy a salt lick and go to town! Apparently I've been quite...uh...er...female dog like. My good friend Liz asked if I was getting ready to start my cycle. I asked her, "Am I always cranky when I start my cycle?" She demurred for a moment and then said, "Yes." Robert, when I informed him of the conversation, got a big grin on his face. So while he wouldn't directly confirm Liz's comment, neither would he deny the content.

What is it about cycles that get women so crazy nuts? And, is it really necessary? I appreciate the hormone flux and, if my body is as resistant to change as I am, it must really be unhappy during this time, but I still don't understand why all of this is so necessary. Isn't having children hard enough without the monthly reminder via bloating, cramping, crying, yelling, craving, binging, irritability, zits, fatigue, limited brain function, insomnia, etc. that we are once again purging ourselves but will be ready to get pregnant in just another short week? Wouldn't the bleeding be notice enough? It's pretty hard to miss.

Clearly, I'm not the only woman obsessed by this. Have you ever noticed how many different terms we have for periods? We are like Eskimos with the word "snow." There is: cycle; period; Aunt Flo; George Michael; painters and decorators; monthly; monthly followed by: bill, blues, evacuations, flow, flux, monster, return, turns and visitor; OTR/on the rag; "menarche, menstruation or menstrual cycle" (spoken in a deep and somber voice); time of the month; menses; "I'm on;" broken; Strawberry Shortcake; crimson tide....need I go on?

What concerns me though, especially when all the symptoms of my cycle are particularly nasty, is the thought of what menopause will be like. My mother and I always assumed that since we were mother and daughter our female functions would be similar. My mother was stunned when I was in labor for about 20 hours with Rhys as compared to her first labor of just 2-4 hours. After some discussion, we determined that I seem to take after my father's mother. Well, not only has FarMar passed away, but I never had a relationship close enough with her to ask, "How well do your reproductive organs work?" More particularly, "How was menopause?" She was a nurse though, so I think, in my vast wisdom gained by being over 30, that she wouldn't have minded. Based on the stories that I've heard, however, it wasn't an easy time for her. Given this and all the problems I have with just a simple monthly flow, I'm worried that menopause may just be the end of me or, at least, of my marriage.

But I suppose that others have made it through all this before. And periods and menopause haven't killed anyone. (I think anyway. Would it be possible for someone, somewhere along the line, to have bled to death? Would committing suicide due to crazed hormone fluxuations be death by period/menopause? -- trying not to dwell.) Anyway, I guess it just "is what it is." Here's to happy womandom (a wee dram of sarcasm included there) and another month under my belt (almost).

Conversations

My friend Alexa has a blog to which she regularly posts conversations between her and her children. I love to read these bits of dialogue; they bring a smile to my face. So, at the risk of displaying my low level of personal creativity, I thought I'd post some of my own.

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The boys were sitting on the sofa watching ET for the first time. They were watching the scene where Eliot goes out on his own to investigate the shed out back, fearing coyotes might be in the shed.

Quinn: What if there really are coyotes? What if they eat him?
Rhys: Then it will be a short movie.

***

Mom: Rhys, could you please put this in the drawer underneath the fridge?
Rhys: You mean the microwave?
Mom: Yes. Thank you.

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Lulu: When I grow up, I get to be the boss?
Mom: Yes and when you're the boss, I will be Nana.
Lulu: When I'm the boss, I will work and Nana can take care of my kids.

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I was snuggling my daughter on the couch this morning. My pj shirt pulled up and she rubbed my belly and said, "Mom, you have a fat belly, like Santa Claus."

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Mom: Do you remember me waking you up last night?
Lulu: Yes.
Mom: What did I do?
Lulu: You hugged me and told me you loved me and kissed me and you snuggled me!
Mom: Yes I did.
Lulu: When you are a little girl, I will snuggle you.

Gordon B. Hinckley 1910 - 2008

I was saddened to hear the news of President Hinckley's passing on Sunday night. I was also surprised at how deeply his passing affected me. I didn't know him personally and yet he had great import to me. He had been around for all of my life that I can remember, either serving as a counselor in the First Presidency or, more recently, as our Prophet, Seer and Revelator. He even came to Juneau, Alaska one year and was instrumental in our area becoming a stake under direction from Salt Lake instead of a district presided over by the area mission.

I remember that meeting. I had smooshed myself into an already packed row in an effort to be closer to the podium and not have to sit way back in the overflow area. I'd never seen our building so full. When he walked in, there was an immediate weight in the air and such an overflowing of the Spirit. I cried when he spoke, I was so overcome, and I didn't stop crying until half an hour after he had left. He had such a gentle demeanor, a strong testimony of Jesus and a respect and admiration for women. I always looked forward to hearing him speak.

I was surprised that he lived so long, particularly after his beloved wife passed on four years ago. I expected him to follow much sooner. But I am grateful that he continued with us for a few more years. I am grateful for his work on this earth and grateful for his testimony. I am grateful for his genuine love of all people. I just wanted to close with a few quotes from him:

• “We must not be clannish. We must never adopt a holier-than-thou attitude. We must not be self-righteous. We must be magnanimous, and open, and friendly. We can keep our faith. We can practice our religion. We can cherish our method of worship without being offensive to others. I take this occasion to plead for a spirit of tolerance and neighborliness, of friendship and love toward those of other faiths.” (Pioneer Day Commemoration, July 2001).

• “We can respect other religions and must do so. We must recognize the great good they accomplish. We must teach our children to be tolerant and friendly toward those not of our faith. We can and do work with those of other religions in the defense of those values which have made our civilization great and our society distinctive…” (General Conference, April 1998).

• "1. Be grateful. 2. Be smart. 3. Be clean. 4. Be true. 5. Be humble. 6. Be prayerful" (New Era, January 2001).

• “I want to give you my testimony. I know that God our Eternal Father lives, that He is the great Governor of the universe, and that we are His children, and that somehow He hears and answers the prayers of His children. I want you to know that I know that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, that He left His royal home on high and came down among men—hated and abused of men—and that He went about doing good [see Acts 10:38]. He was crucified out of the hatred of the people; He rose the third day—‘the firstfruits of them that slept’ (1 Corinthians 15:20). I want you to know that the Father and the Son appeared to the boy Joseph Smith and ushered in this marvelous dispensation—the greatest dispensation in the history of the entire world” (member meeting, Seoul, South Korea, July 31, 2005).

• “I am so profoundly grateful for the gospel of Jesus Christ, for a testimony of the Atonement of the Savior. I believe in it with all my heart, and I live for it, and I bear witness of it this day. Of all of the events of human history, none other approaches the Atonement of the Savior in its meaning and in its results. God be thanked for the gift of His precious Son, to whom we all owe thanks for His sacrifice in our behalf” (member meeting, Copenhagen, Denmark, May 22, 2004).

Cliques

I have always abhorred cliques and the popular crowd. In high school I was quite content to do my own thing and be my own person. I was quite oblivious to any other way. Elementary school and middle school had been my soul killing grounds. In elementary school I was the social pariah from grade 3 on, with another child throwing a temper tantrum and refusing to sit in my desk in grade 4. I received some acceptance in middle school but was told in 7th grade that I didn't dress well enough to be one girl's friend and was cruelly and publicly insulted in 8th grade. By high school, I just didn't care. In fact, I considered myself, while quite mainstream, to be above the requirements for normal teenage interaction. All were welcome in my circle of friends. That's how I've always seen myself anyway.

Of late though, I have begun to question that assumption. Emmalouise is desperate to attend school. That is what big girls do and she is a big girl. To help fill her needs for school attendance, there is a resource center/play group we attend every Tuesday and Thursday morning. She paints, colors, plays house, reads, strings beads, plays on the computer and much more. There are plenty of other children. She always has a good time. Given that she is an independent 4 year old, I typically sit around a table chatting with other moms. The thing is, it's generally the same moms, a group of about 6 women (not including myself) who are all Mormon save one. We all go to church together (save one) and we all gravitate toward the same table every time we show up. I had been wondering for the last few weeks if newcomers felt intimidated by this little group. We are always friendly with everyone else but it is clear that there are established friendships in this little group and I, as a newcomer, would find it daunting to find a place in it.

This feeling of cliquishness (apparently that is a word and that is how you spell it -- yea me!) was further underscored last week by the staff of the resource center rearranging the furniture. The room used to have a small snack/craft table on the linoleum section of the room and a larger table, made of four tables pushed together, on the carpeted area. We would generally group around this table, sometimes to the point where there were no free chairs -- again, daunting. On last Tuesday I arrived to find that a small, child sized table had been placed in the middle of the carpeted area for coloring. I felt that this was a good move as it was hard to enforce eating snacks at the one small table when it was covered in craft projects and swamped with kids busily creating. The large "adult" table was completely broken up with only two small tables with adult size chairs remaining. Each new table is smaller than a typical four seating dining room table; there isn't enough room for four adults to sit and each place a book on its surface. However, my group forges on and we all simply crowd around one little table and try and make room for every one.

What's my point? I'm not sure other than I'm really wanting to post and this is something that has been percolating for weeks. I enjoy my friends. I enjoy hearing about their lives and this is really the only time I'm able to connect with them. Sundays are so rushed that we have time only for a few words. Part of me feels like I'm fine. This isn't a clique. Anyone could join and what's wrong with me hanging out with my friends? But what bothers me and pesters me in the back of my mind and heart is the fact that no one really does join. There are side conversations here and there but they always feel stilted and awkward. Again, this is just my perception. I also struggle with knowing what to say to someone else to draw them in. When I have been someone on the outside, I have ached and cried and wanted someone on the inside to draw me in. Now, being on the inside -- or rather, what I perceive as the inside -- I'm not sure how to do that without seeming like the "good Christian busybody."

God's Little Parenting Helps

1. Carrots can help your eyesight. (Alright, you have to be severely deficient first, which most of our children, thanks to Flintstone's, are not.) What our kids hear: Eating carrots will give you super cool night vision like a ninja! Net effect: carrots are eaten off their plates like mad.

2. We have dinosaur stories particularly herbivores like the brontosaurus. What our kids hear: Pretending broccoli is a small tree and eating them voraciously will make you a brontosaurus. Net effect: broccoli is eaten of their plates like mad.

3. Eating fruits and vegetables helps you stay healthy and wards off sickness. (Mostly illnesses they're really not worried about yet, but you don't tell them that part!) What our kids hear: If you eat your fruits and vegetables, you will never get a cold again and I'll never have to help you blow your own nose in public again! Net effect: Fruits and vegetables are flying out of the fridge into our children's mouths like mad.

4. A new study conducted by scientists at The University of Wisconsin suggests that 90 percent of bone growth happens at night. What our kids hear: If I go to sleep earlier and sleep in later, I will be a foot taller tomorrow! Net effect: You can get your children into bed without drama.

Family Time

I've been playing with my Visual DNA and having so much fun this morning. While selecting time with my family as what I would like to be doing right now, I am reminded of yesterday. Yesterday we had a good deal of family time, which has been sorely needed. I decided that we would all go on a walk. The children were thrilled, Robert less so but he was game. It took us about half an hour to get out of the house despite the fact that my children are all over four. There were debates on: where to find shoes (despite the fact that they each have about 4 pairs); if Rhys could bring his skateboard (mind you, we were planning for a family walk not park outing); if Carbon could come and if she came, who would get to walk her; if each of us had to wear a coat (it is January and even in Western Oregon, while there is no snow, it is cold). On and on and on it went. Finally, when everyone was dressed to go out, I just started walking out the door assuming that they would follow. Inevitably someone needed the keys to get back in (Quinn decided he did in fact need a coat) but at least we were, at last, on the road. As the front gate closed, our yard is fully chain-link fenced, I felt the first drop. Of course, what else could I expect? It is Oregon in January. It was raining (misting might be more accurate).

We trudged on. Unexpectedly Grandma drove by and, a quintessential small town characteristic, we stood in the middle of the street chatting with Grandma. She left to go grocery shopping and on we walked. The whining was endless: I want to go to someone's house; Who are we going to visit?; Are we going home?; Can we go home?; Do we have to go home?; Can we play at the park?; I want to walk Carbon; Wait up for me! On and on and on it went. Finally, about half way through the kids start getting into the walk and the rain stopped. Robert gave Rhys Carbon's leash and told him to run her to the end of the block. If one runs, all three run. Off they went and I got a moment to walk, arm in arm, with my love watching my three children and our dog. Bliss.

We decided to extend the walk by walking through the park instead of heading home. A block later, the rain started again. The kids didn't hear our repeated statements that we were merely walking through the park. Lulu climbed on the play structure -- we warned her she'd have to stay in wet pants for the rest of the day and happily, she climbed back down instead of sliding down into a puddle. Quinn went running around to the far end of the park and then had to play catch up to get back to us. Rhys wandered a bit with Carbon but was quick to come back to our side. We made it home, slightly wet, but happy to be home. We ended the day with a movie (A Christmas Story which, IMHO, is more of a boy movie than a girl movie), popcorn and dinner in the living room with the TV off. Rhys tied a fly on his own, Lulu snuggled with me and Quinn sat with his dad.

Moments has become one of my favorite words. I find that my life is moments, at least the good times. I haven't been able to see that the bad times are only moments too but I'm optimistic that one day I will make that discovery. In these brilliant moments, the moments of contentment, comfort and love with my family, I find such joy and peace and happiness. It is moments like this that the possibilities of Quinn and Lulu first emerged. It is moments like this that I want to be married and would do it all again. It is moments like this that I want nothing more than for the outside world to disappear and for me to continue snuggled warm with my family ad infinitum.