#26

I find it amusing that out of all the miracles, everyone is amazed by #26 and 27. Even my husband scoffed at the prospect of these miracles happening.


I'm left thinking, "Why? Do you know something I don't?" or perhaps more reasonably, "Do you know something I thought I alone in the universe knew?"

Who Would Be You?

I have a friend, Trina, who likes to match her friends with potential actors, meaning "who would play you in the movie of your life?" She asked me this one time as she hadn't been inspired as yet by someone whom she felt could play me. I came up with nothing. Then, clearly this was a while ago, I discovered Callie (Sara Ramirez).

I've previously mentioned, several times in fact, my adoration for Grey's Anatomy, but Callie is one of my favorite characters. She's not a skinny little twig. She has dark wavy/curly tresses and is sexy as hell. But most importantly, and I'm not including her "George O'Malley episodes" where she became a shell of her former self, she is kick-ass. She is spunky. She's an orthopedic surgeon; she breaks and sets bones for her living. She danced in her underwear on TV. She's awesome.

So, in the movie of my life, Sara Ramirez would play me and I hope that she would interpret me/my character as having a bit of Callie in her.

What about you, my friends? Ever have anyone whom you would like to star as you in the movie of your life? Need not be famous but preferably with good acting skills. Then again, who am I to judge? Perhaps you would enjoy the movie of your life badly acted - at least you could be assured of good laughs!

Bliss

Today I celebrated.

Today I tried to teach my daughter to say, "Hooray! The writers' strike ended!" (Yes, I know it ended a while ago but at last, long last, the fruits of that resolution are ripe.)

Today I watched a host of ads for all new episodes of my favorite shows. My vampire show - horribly acted but I've this weird fascination for "good" vampires. My amnesiac show - love ditsy, good hearted blondes. And Jean Smart - really, I would watch almost anything with Jean Smart in it. I haven't checked to see if new episodes of my forensic anthropologist show are playing but I'm looking forward to hearing more on the mystery of the Gormagon.

But seriously...seriously, it's all about Seattle Grace.

Grey's Anatomy is back. It was bloody and bit gory but at the end of the show, there's just something about it that makes me...not quite happy because sometimes it leaves me crying and distraught. But the dialogue is intriguing and witty, the situations are messy and involved and the characters are heartbreakingly real (although with a disturbing lack of morality). Of course, Patrick Dempsey and his "soulful eyes" doesn't hurt either. End of the day, I just love watching this show.

*happy sigh* I just had to share my bliss.

The Blessed 33

As previously mentioned (and thank you all, so much for all your sterling input) I am about to embark on my "year of miracles." I have decided that since this is a year of miracles, the first miracle is to have a year longer than 365 days, meaning that the year will start as of posting this. Some of you may think this is just a shameless attempt to give myself more time to accomplish some of my loftier goals (like reading all of my scriptures) and you would be exactly right. (BTW, as to the photo, do you have any idea how hard it is to come up with a picture for "miracles?")

With no further adieu, here they are, in no particular order:

1. Read my scriptures, cover to cover, book to book.
2. Run a mile in less than 10 minutes. This may have to be reduced to just running a mile.
3. Watch my tongue. Not sure how to measure success of this measure.
4. Befriend someone new.
5. Befriend someone I don't like. I hear my therapist cautioning that there could be a good and healthy reason that I don't like them and maybe it's better they weren't really my "friend."
6. Find a charity to support and donate, even a buck every month.
7. Take two LCC math classes to bone up for grad school.
8. Call the Hult Center to look into volunteering as an usher - free viewing of theatrical productions- woo hoo!
9. Monthly dates with my DH. Perhaps I should tell Robert that we are doing this....
10. Volunteer or, potentially, substitute in HS math.
11. Call Pacific University and discuss MEd program.
12. Call UofO and discuss MEd programs.
13. Spend 1/2 hr. one on one with each of my kids weekly but I'll settle for monthly.
14. Talk to my MIL about how much I appreciate her sacrifices regarding my wedding. (Robert was the only member in his family, we were married in the Seattle Temple - you do the math.)
15. Survive July in Alaska. Not talking about the wild animals...or maybe I am! :)
16. Attend a temple endowment session. At least once. Potential bonus points for additional visits.
17. Attend a temple initiatory session. Do we call it a session? Oh well, there it is.
18. Write 33 Thank You notes or "love letters" (not romantic ones but "I think you are super fabulous" kind of love letters) to individuals who have touched my life. Preferably hand-written.
19. Be able to use 10, 12 and 15 pound weights for weight lifting workouts.
20. Monthly love notes to my children and husband. Maybe just daily one liners. Still flexible on this.
21. Find hope again. A real miracle. Desperately seeking God's blessing in this one.
22. Make matching dresses for me and Lulu while she's still young enough to think it's cool instead of a reason to vomit.
23. Scrapbook 1 year of photos. Too ambitious? Maybe, one month of photos. Whatever. I just need to scrapbook a few more pages.
24. Get the photos on my computer developed.
25. Get the photos sitting on rolls of film in my closet developed.
26. Clean off my bedroom dresser.
27. Keep my bedroom dresser clean for one week.
28. Take a family picture (sans DH) in front of the Mendenhall Glacier.
29. Come to grips with the imminence of death and see it as a blessing rather than a curse. Meaning, stop fretting that everyone I love is going to die and leave me but rejoice in having them now.
30. Begin to like my emotions. Mmmm...I'd just be happy to have the desire to plant this seed.
31. Finish typing up my mom's journals. (I'm sure everyone will be happy to begin receiving entries again on a regular basis.)

Ooh, I'm so close - brain don't fail me now!

32. Write an essay about something important to me.
33. Finish Step 9. (Long story - maybe someday I'll get into it.)

OK, I think that's it. I'll try and keep y'all updated and I'm feeling a bit optimistic at such a large undertaking. (I tried to make some simple but it's amazing how hard it can be to even come up with a list that doesn't involve: get a recording contract and outsell Shania Twain; cure cancer; walk on Mars; become the first woman American President; write a bestselling novel; end world hunger; be instrumental in achieving world peace; write a song so beautiful it makes Simon Cowell cry....You get the picture.) Any thoughts, cautions or perhaps changes (I believe strongly in a woman's right to change her mind) would be happily accepted.

A List of Books

I found this on a blog and loved it - what's not to love about a list of books on which I get to comment? So, I thought I'd play. My one question, what's up with all the Harry Potter books? Is there a person on the planet who doesn't own at least one?

Here's the rules:

Bold the ones you’ve read,
italicize the ones you want to read,
cross out the ones you won’t touch with a 10 foot pole,
put a cross (+) in front of the ones on your book shelf,
and asterisk (*) the ones you’ve never heard of.

1. .The DaVinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. +Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen) Partially in bold because I’ve read part of it
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee)
4. Gone With The Wind(Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (J.R.R. Tolkien)
6. +The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (J.R.R. Tolkien) Couldn't believe it when I was 3/4 of the way through the book and they were still at the Elven place. What's up with that? The movie moved much faster! :)
7. +The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (J.R.R. Tolkien)
8. +Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon) used to be on my shelf but I got rid of it even though it is an excellent book – there were some scenes I wasn’t sure about my future teenage children reading.
10. *A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. +Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (J.K. Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. +Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (J.K. Rowling)
14. *A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. +Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (J.K. Rowling)
17. *Fall on Your Knees (Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. +Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (J.K. Rowling)
20. +Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte) again with the partially read!
21. The Hobbit (J.R.R. Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger) DO NOT LIKE THIS BOOK!
23. +Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. +The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. *Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. +The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. +The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (George Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. *The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. *The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. *I Know This Much is True (Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel) again, used to be on my shelf, wait, maybe I kept this one…
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella) heard of it, seen it in our library but don’t know enough about it to say I wouldn’t touch it with a 10-foot pole.
44. +The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. +Bible
46. +Anna Karenina (Leo Tolstoy)
47. +The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. *Angela's Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She's Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Charles Dickens) love his stories/plots, can’t stand his writing!
53. Ender's Game(Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Charles Dickens)
55. The Great Gatsby (Scott Fitzgerald)
56. *The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. +Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (J.K. Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid's Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller's Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. +War and Peace (Tolsoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. *Fifth Business (Robertson Davies)
66. +One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Victor Hugo)
70. +The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones' Diary (Helen Fielding)
72. +Love in the Time of Cholera (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. +The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. *The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. *A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. *The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. +Charlotte's Web (E.B. White)
81. *Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (John Steinbeck)
83. Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. *Wizard's First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. +Emma (Jane Austen) Yea! I did actually manage to read all of this one and really loved it after the first 100 pages or so.
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams) Does watching the cartoon with the bunnies with possessed eyes count?
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. *The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. *Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. *Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. *In the Skin of a Lion (Michael Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (William Golding) I dislike this book even more than Catcher in the Rye. And that's saying a lot.
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum) Robert (my Robert) doesn’t like to read but he likes to be read to. He also loves the Bourne movies (quite possibly more than he loves me) so I thought these might be good to read to him. I just haven’t checked them out yet.
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch) used to be on my shelf but I didn’t think the book was worth much so I donated it to the library. They sold it for a quarter. Guess they shared my opinion. Or, what really happened, they already had about 5 copies of the book and were selling all but one. I like to think that mine was not the one they kept. Sometimes book burning can be good. (OK, it wasn't that bad of a book, just a waste of my time.)
98. *A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)

Masks and Friends

My friend Alexa wrote a post about unmasking oneself and what part of ourselves we present to those around us. Today at APC, (the playgroup I take Lulu to on Tuesdays and Thursdays) I was chatting with a couple of moms. We started discussing my recent purchases at The Castle (an adult store). I felt a little odd to be discussing such intimate details in a some what public setting. What was I saying before about just blurting things out without thinking? And what was I smoking? And where can I get some more? Think first. Always.

As I was driving home I started having detail-sharing remorse and wondering what had possessed me to share all that. I wouldn't really write all those details on my blog! But then I've been stunned by what I have written on my blog. I've posted my odd theories on life, my memories of my mother and other details, far more intimate to my being, my "ousia," than what my adult store purchases were. And while I have been selective in handing out my blog address, I haven't barred the general public from reading my blog either. What makes it so easy to share intimate thoughts and feelings with faceless strangers and so impossible to share those views of God or life with those whom we see every day? I commented to BiV that I certainly wouldn't be sharing any of my more radical views in Relief Society or over the pulpit in a talk or testimony meeting, but why not? Why am I so afraid of what those living near me will think? To be sure there are plenty of people in my world who are close minded enough that they would spurn me (there are those in my ward who still refuse to talk to one woman because she had a child out of wedlock, even though said child is 8.5 years old) and there are those who would even try to show me the error of my ways. But I think there would be more who would embrace me and love me just because I'm me and I have intrinsic value. There may even be some who would agree with me and be grateful for the open dialogue.

So what makes the difference? I get that fear is a huge portion in my sharing certain things with my church. (And yes, I know that "God hath not given us the spirit of fear..." or however that goes.) But what makes the difference between what I say with my friends at playgroup and what I say here? And how on earth do you bring up meaningful conversations with friends that don't involve your children, your day or sex? I have several friends with whom I would like more in-depth conversations regarding religion, feelings and other things, but I have no idea how to even get something started. Back to just blurting things out without thinking? Now if I could just find my smoking stash...maybe the violin-playing goat took it.

Spring Fever

Remember that post where I waxed poetic about the beauty of every season? I was delusional.

How could I have forgotten the agony of allergies and the fact that I seem to be allergic to everything around me both in the spring and fall? Forget the trees in blossom and the tulips and daffodils bursting around me; it's hard to think when you can't breathe and your head feels like a giant zit needing to be popped.

I used to wonder why God hadn't inspired my family to settle back home in Juneau, Alaska. We tried to move, several times, but always felt that it wasn't right or nothing would work out enabling us to move. Given the current family drama, I've become grateful that we didn't move. However, I am now questioning God's foresight as to having us live just slightly due south of "the Grass Seed Capital of the World." Yea me! Yea my sinuses!

And furthermore, because now I'm on a rantin' roll, what is the whole purpose of allergies? There is nothing wrong with grass seed or tree pollen or whatever it is trees send out, but my body responds as if they were miniature Jeffrey Dahmers out to destroy me. Allergies are simply my own body's reactions to these invaders and the medication to make it better blocks the histamine my body produces. Is this God's way of reminding me that I am my own worst enemy? Is this some sort of cosmic symbolism that even the smallest things can cause problems of epic proportions?! I just don't know. I just know that right now, not even fruit trees in blossom are making my allergies feel worth the price of Spring.

123:5 Take Two

I'd like to blame my mistake on being born blonde but that's terribly unfair to the brilliant blondes out there. I really have to blame my mistake on an age old problem of mine: failing to read the instructions. In my excited haste from being tagged, I really didn't read everything she had written properly. One word can make all the difference - I thought "line," BiV typed "sentence." I kept wondering how people were getting these lovely fully developed thoughts out of the fifth line. Maybe their books were wider and allowed for a complete sentence? Then it dawned on me, I goofed up.

This reminds me of my first algebra quiz. I was the first one done, sure that I had completed everything right only to receive a D for stupid, hurried mistakes. I later slowed down. Apparently, though, this lesson needs to be repeated over and over again in my life.

So, here are all the previous entries with the 5th SENTENCE.

BH&G New Cookbook, "Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface."

The Second Sex, Simone de Beauvoir, "Because the cause of the proletariat and that of women there was no such immediate solidarity as Bebel and Engels claimed."

Posterior Analytics, Aristotle, "Since it is evident that one cannot demonstrate anything except from its own principles if what is being proved belongs to it as that thing, understanding is not this - if a thing is proved from what is true and non-demonstrable and immediate."

A Season in the Highlands, "Fall from Grace," Jill Barnett, "'Tis said...' She paused for effect."

Blameless Desire, Jenny Cartwright, "'You've mended the tray,' she said."

A bit better results but I'm still disappointed in the romance novel offerings. Then again, I'm not sure I would have posted things about creamy bosoms and engorged manhoods.

For those whom I am tagging [Mia, Laura, Alexa, Lizzie, Genji] here are the official rules. Please read carefully lest you become a lame-o like me.

1. Pick up the nearest book (at least 123 pages).
2. Turn to page 123.
3. Find the 5th sentence
4. Post the 5th sentence on your blog.
5. Tag 5 people.
6. [M's addendum] Feel no pressure about instruction #5.

123:5

Almost sounds like a scriptures doesn't it? I think only a psalm would fit the bill, but, oh! There is no verse five to Psalm 123. Doctrine and Covenants? "And all that are in the magazines and in the encyclopedias, and all the libelous histories that are published and are writing, and by whom, and present the whole concatenation of diabolical rascality and nefarious and murderous impositions that have been practised upon this people...." Not quite an inspirational passage now but important back in the day of persecution. I have to admit, though, that the phrase, "concatenation of diabolical rascality" is pretty fun to say.

OK, so what am I doing? I'VE BEEN TAGGED! Woo-hoo! A year ago, I didn't even know what that meant beyond running with my children until I couldn't breathe and thus becoming an easy target. BiV tagged me to go to my nearest book, turn to page 123, find the 5th sentence, post the 5th sentence and then tag 5 more people (at least it isn't 123 more people!).

Alas and alack, I have no book close to me when I sit at my computer. I looked to my right (bookshelf along the back hall) and to my left (cupboard above the stove which holds some cookbooks). I then measured - the stove is far closer. I selected my most used cookbook (Better Homes and Gardens NEW Cookbook) and turned to page 123. The first recipe is for Biscuits Supreme and line five reads:

"resembles coarse crumbs. Make a well in center."

Scintillating, no?

In desperation, I turned back to my right and to the bookshelf, I wanted to select Aristotle but then I noticed my copy of "The Second Sex." Hmmm...I thought I had discarded that. I must have decided that I just couldn't give up my feminist literature. It should be good for a line.

"approximately twenty-five per cent less than a man for digging the...."

A bit more possibilities for discussion but still...I went back to Aristotle.

"only that it holds now." Darn the end of a paragraph!

At last I gave up all pretense of proximity and went for the book I was reading when I was tagged ("A Season in the Highlands" - five short stories set in Scotland),

"voice. ' 'Tis said...' She paused for effect. 'No bogey. No...'"

and then to the book I just started reading, ("Blameless Desire" - you'd think it would have something juicy in it)

"for as long as she could remember. Now it had been...."

Uncle! Uncle! I. give. up. Where's a good "bodice ripping scene" when you need one? I could not find a good line no matter how hard I tried. Perhaps I should review my romance novels (a/k/a smut) and find a good line and then issue my challenge. Perhaps it will be a 267:15. Who knows?

Anyway, these were all my results and at the end of this I'm still exhausted (maybe this is like the children's game of tag!). I'd like to tag five people but I'm not sure I even have five readers (BiV - uh, wait, no tag backs - ok, Laura, Alexa, Mia, Liz (ooh, I'm so close!)...and Genji!! - who knew I could do it?!) Please post in the comments or on your own blog. Let me know. BTW, Genj if you fail to participate...I so TOTALLY WIN!!!

Just for Fun

...and because I need to write something that cannot be construed as whining. I found this on BiV's blog and loved it. However, when I tried it with my picture, the results weren't quite so fantabulous as some of her pics.

Left Side. .........................Right Side.So, keep these photos handy and remind me, in case I'm ever in a horrible, disfiguring car accident, that I'd rather have the left side of my face duplicated than the right. Thanks!

On second thought, the left has a pointy chin and a bit more imp; perhaps this is my evil twin Mary Ann? Bad Maraiya (left side) vs. Good Maraiya (right side).

But I Want To Be Data

I went to see my OB today. He asked all sorts of questions (much more in-depth than I thought he would) about how I was feeling, how the circumstances of my life were going, etc. Of course I started crying as I answered the questions and kept crying as I asked how long would I have to be on these pills (he said we could try to wean off in July but then I mentioned that was the anniversary of Mom's death so then we moved that to mid-August) and that I hate to cry so much. He said that I have been blessed with strong emotions. I said that I wanted to just be Data. Brilliant and wonderful man that he is, he got the reference and responded, "What did Data always want?" Touche. Damn smart people! Or rather, damn closet Trekkies!

I told him that it didn't go so well for Data once he got the emotions chip. Dr. OB said that eventually all the gliches were worked out and everything was good. He said I was an empath and not everyone had that depth of emotion. "Oh, great!" thought I, "I used to long to be Deanna Troy; she was so beautiful and had the love of Riker (whom I thought was cute at the time - no accounting for taste) and she was an empath. I guess you get what you wish for. Darn. Rascals! Oh, Snap!" Perhaps I should have clarified that I wanted her empathy (reading other people's emotions almost as if mind reading) versus my empathy (which I translate as absorbing other people's emotions a/k/a crying all the time).

Is it to late to wish to be Data?

I'm a Little Bit Judas

I was watching a Reflections of Christ video when one picture seemed to me to be a penitent Judas following the betrayal of Jesus. I was struck by his sorrow and despair. I was struck by his mirror image of myself. I think I am Judas. As much as I want to be David or Gideon or Deborah or Martha, I am Judas. How willing am I to sell my Savior, my time with Jesus, for just a moment more reading escapist literature or laughing with friends? How willing am I to seek my own solutions to my problems or those of my family rather than giving it to God and trusting in His hand?

I thought, too, that the song, Come thou Fount of Every Blessing was fitting. "Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love." I feel that all too often I turn from my Savior in moments joy when I don't really need Him any more and in moments of despair when perhaps I blame Him or feel that this moment of my life is beyond His reach.

We, as a society, are so quick to judge Judas for the ultimate betrayal. Perhaps it is because we find ourselves guilty of the same betrayal. I believe that Judas' betrayal was not unforgivable. I don't know where he stands - suicide always complicates things - but ultimately that is in God's hands. I do, however, take great comfort in the fact that all of my failures are forgivable and what matters more than the multitude of times I turn away from Jesus is that I turn back to Him just once more.

Read What I Did!!

I wanted to write, "Look what I did!" but it's too dark to take photos and I don't have "before" photos to help you appreciate the current "after" state of things!

Thursday night, after being so sad all day, I got a second wind (a God wind, if you will). I listened to my music and Mia sent me links to amazingly silly YouTube clips. This one in particular made me laugh; God willing my sons will be more intelligent than the young man in this video. Maybe it's Darwinian that he may not be able to reproduce?

Friday, I was reborn. Robert and I are in the middle of trying to refinance the house. We're rolling all of my student loan debt (16k) and our credit card debt (again 16k, see the symmetry in this?) into our mortgage, lowering our interest rate and shortening the term of our mortgage. If everything goes through, we will have our house paid for 7 years earlier than originally planned. YEA!! So, I have made all the phone calls, discussed all the terms and am now trying to get the paperwork signed and the appraiser out to give us a value for our home. (If you knew all my phone anxieties, you would understand what an accomplishment this is!) The impending arrival of an appraiser has lit a fire under our respective tushes. Robert's sister keeps telling us that we shouldn't worry so much and that the appraiser won't care about many of the items we are concerned about. I don't care. I'm just happy that things are getting done.

Friday, I cleaned our hallway from the kitchen to the laundry area. I moved filing cabinets, packed all those plastic grocery bags into one big kitchen garbage bag. I put my ironing table in a great storage area from which (added bonus) it will be difficult to retrieve. I rearranged items so that the bins would actually close, allowing neater stacking and and thus neater closet arrangement. I sorted and packed away all the clothes that my children need to grow into (sometimes accepting charity can be a burden) and sorted and donated the clothes my children have grown out of. The trash can and the 44 lb bag of dog food are tucked neatly in the bottom of our pantry. Now, we can actually walk down the space without twisting our hips around in a Latin dance type fashion. Now someone can sit at the computer and someone else can walk behind them without necessitating anyone getting a tummy tuck. So. nice. My husband was shocked.

I cut down old raspberry canes. I mowed the lawn (even emptied the bag of clippings of few times). I weeded. I hate to weed. I studiously avoid weeding (even my beloved roses). But I weeded nonetheless.

Saturday, April 12th was the final day of Christmas 2007 at our house! Liz and Mia expressed incredulity that such decorations were still up. Myself, I had begun to think that they would still be up come October 2008, at which point I would decide, "Eh, Christmas will be here soon, why bother?" All the nativities are filed away in their appropriate boxes. The snowmen and nutcrackers and lollipop tree, sans lollies, have been lovingly wrapped away and are now sleeping in the attic. *Sigh* Done. at. last.

I weeded some more. (I also had a brief moment of rage when I saw that Robert ended up rototilling a section of garden that I had spent 1.5 hours weeding.) I pressure-washed two sides of our house, our chimney and our entire two car garage driveway. By myself. Thank you very much!

I even had time to read a short story.

So, the purpose of this post? A completely narcissistic, "YEA ME!!"

Music Soothes the Soul

Well, if you couldn't tell, I've been having a not so good, blue, manic day. I was going to go to bed but neither tv nor books appealed to me. I browsed through several blogs when I stumbled upon Playlist.com . I've been having a great deal of fun listening to songs and selecting some to add to my playlist. I added this element to the sidebar towards the bottom. I am so excited that finally, FINALLY, so many of you will have the pleasure of knowing "The Scotsman" and "The Haircut Song." Now you will at last, I know this has been a life long aspiration for many of you, understand what goes through my head when I hear Coos Bay. "I'm a logger. Just up from Cooooos Bay, Oregon."

Happy Pills

I like euphemisms. They make my world so much more livable. Depression just becomes "the blues." So nice, so soft; it makes me think of that old New Era poster with a bunch of blue balloons. Manic children who fill my thoughts with wishes that a caravan of gypsies would come strolling by are simply "energetic rascals." Credit cards with five digits of debt become "magic cards," that magically pay for anything we need or want; somehow, though, it wasn't my trip to Paris! My medication to manage my depression so I don't have any "hmm, think I'm done with life," kind of thoughts becomes "happy pills." See, so much better! Could have been "anti-suicide-or-voices-in-my-head pills," but instead they are simply happy pills. How can a pill that makes you happy be all that bad?

When I first started taking these things I was so distraught. I thought that here was one more way in which I had failed. "Clearly, I suck at living life. Oh well, might as well get some help because I wasn't capable of getting better on my own. " The happy pills helped so much that almost overnight all those nasty voices in my head stopped and I could function again. Why had I fought so hard against this? Now, though, I am discovery that apparently the whole world has had similar experiences and everyone seems to be on happy pills.

I spoke to a woman for whom I have become her IUD friend and she asks me all questions IUD related. Yea me! Apparently she is using happy pills too. My former visiting teacher, whose children are all my age, is on a happy pill. My husband joked that being married to her hubby (he's not so nice) for 30+ years would require her to take them. I asked him if that was true, what does that say about him since we've only been married for 10.

One friend took pills to get through the bar exam. Someone else took happy pills to help when she quit smoking. Another SAHM has bad anxiety and has been on happy pills for 2 years now. Another friend took them when she was leaving her husband. (FYI, they made her lose a bunch of weight - why can't I have that side effect?!) Another friend takes them to avoid being crazy (like me).

So, I'm feeling less like a freak and now wondering, "Should I be on these?" Is it a statement of how much being a SAHM sucks your life blood out of your soul that so many of us are on happy pills? Is it a statement of the last days and turbulent times that we have to have help to get through the day? Has our DNA been so drastically altered over years of pollution and corruption that we can no longer produce the chemicals needed for a happy brain?

I. don't. know. I just know that I am currently up in the air. The pills have helped, no question, but the week before my period (Hello?! right now!) still turns me into a bluesy girl. The pills have also made me fatigued. All. the. time. Argh! It's hard to find motivation to do anything when all I want to do is sleep. Seriously though, I had been bumped up to 20mg and have moved myself back down to 10mg to try and combat the somnolence. Not working so well. So now the questions is, "Do I have to try a new happy pill?" Blech. This is worse than trying to find a birth control pill that works for you. Then, I just gave up the whole mess. No big deal. Sure, surprise, surprise, I got preggers, but we wanted a baby and 9 years later, it's not so bad. With happy pills though, if I give up the whole mess, will I go back to being crazy sad chic? Will I still be married in 9 months if I do? Somehow the situation seems a wee bit more convoluted than the birth control pills did. Perhaps I should just go back to looking for that violin playing goat.

This was meant to be funny. I think I missed the boat.

Our Bodies Ourselves (the male version)

I've always felt that I had an open attitude to our bodies and sex; raising boys has taken that to a whole new level. It boggles my mind how open my oldest son is with me. Even at nine he is still completely comfortable discussing and showing me his parts. I have to encourage him to talk to his dad about it and try to set boundaries but he doesn't really care (although he has taken to locking the bathroom door when he uses the toilet).

My second son finds the body to be a treasure trove of humor. Farts are probably the funniest thing on the planet and he walks around the house saying, "Thbbbpt" constantly. Tonight as we drove to karate he asked me, "Mom, what is the most sensitive part of your body?" I came up with an immediate response but wasn't sure what he was thinking, so I said, "I don't know. What do you think?" He replied, "The front forbidden zone." I made him repeat it a few times to make sure that I heard him correctly. I had. This is what he and Rhys have taken to calling their penises. He told me that Dustin and Anthony (the amazingly educated next door neighbor boys who have taught my boys "the bird," sh** and juvie) called it a "dick." I told that I didn't like that term as it was rude and crass and that I thought he should just call it a penis; it's a body part like an arm or a leg. Quinn mumbled, again he had to repeat several times so I could understand him, that he was embarrassed to say "penis," in front of his friends. So we reviewed a few other words: tallywacker, johnson and wiener. "But that's a hot dog!" protested Quinn. I agreed but I said that it was a commonly used euphemism for a penis. Quinn then told me that he had a hot dog for lunch at school today and that he had taken the hot dog and put it over his "front forbidden zone" and told his friends to look. He thought it was hilarious. I wasn't quite so amused and we discussed learning the difference between appropriate humor and inappropriate humor. I have a feeling that I sounded like the adults on the Peanuts cartoons, "Whah, whah, whah, whah, whah." Ah, the joy of boys.

The Wisdom of Dove

I went to playgroup today and a friend brought some Dove dark chocolate candies; mouth so happy! I opened my wrapper and this is what it said:

So, since one should always do what their Dove wrapper tells them to, I am posting the following (which I've been sitting on since February):

Me. Unplugged.

I care far too much about appearances. I feel nervous when making any statements. I get tied up in knots when I think about sticking my neck out. I get flustered when I think about someone proving that I am wrong. I worry constantly about how others perceive me. You’d think that four years at St. John’s College would have cured all this, but it didn’t. In fact, I feel that these core deep inhibitions are part of the reason I didn’t do as well at SJC as I would have liked.

I feel the feminists will hate me for saying that I chose to be a SAHM. I feel the Molly Mormons will hate me for saying that I’m ready to stop being only a SAHM, that I want some thing more from my life than hugging children and baking cookies and that I’d much rather have my husband home with me than serving as bishop. I also find it ironic that the feminist movement – which I view as a movement to liberate women – makes me feel more captive and more cautious about what I want to say.

I think I should just post a blog stating in bold all my deepest darkest secrets. We have $16,000 of credit card debt. I was pseudo-suicidal in middle school. I don’t think I would have ever followed through but I thought about it a lot, mainly as an attention getting grab, and even had a concrete plan for what to do. (I would stop by the drug store between school and work, buy a container of pills – Tylenol or Ibuprofen [I know, hard core drugs] – and take the whole bottle that night.) But I was too afraid of what God would say when I showed up ahead of schedule or of doing it wrong and having to deal with my family after the failed attempt.

I get tired of church teachers who teach without the Spirit. I don’t care if the content is years old, if the Spirit is there I will get something out of it whether it’s just reiterating what I’ve already heard but have yet to learn or it’s something completely new to my thoughts. I get tired of biting my tongue so as not to offend some old woman entrenched in her opinion of the gospel. I really want to have in-depth discussions in Relief Society and Gospel Doctrine instead of spouting off the same old platitudes. I want people to witness of the Savior more. I want to hear their experiences and the things that they question and don’t understand about gospel doctrine. I want to talk about living the gospel and how to move from the ideals and principles to the every day living of those principles. I appreciate that not all of us will live the principles the same way and I want to hear that too; maybe it will give me better ideas of how to live my own Jesus centered life.

I’m tired of being told by non-LDS believers that I’m not a Christian. I know that I don't belong in their club and that's okay; we have many doctrinal differences. But my testimony of Jesus is key to my life and I don't like having complete strangers, who have never heard my testimony or bothered to discuss the matter, dismissing me out of hand as being a cultist who believes in a "wrong Jesus."

I’m tired of sad looks and lame clothes because I’m fat. I’m tired of laundry and dishes and hate that I even have to think of them. I’m tired of feeling guilty about throwing paper or cans away. I don’t eat organic food and I don’t compost all my kitchen scraps.

I voted for George W. Bush. Twice. [Okay, the second time was only because I knew that my state, and thus the electoral votes which actually count as opposed to my itty bitty chunk of the popular vote, would be for Kerry. I figured it was the best way not to vote for anybody.] I used to *love* New Kids on the Block. I would dream about Jordan Knight on a daily and nightly basis. I dreamed about marrying him and having his babies. My bedroom was literally wallpapered (including the ceiling) with posters of them. I like Kelly Clarkston, Air Supply and musicals. I am an incurable romantic. I love, love, *love* romance novels and romantic comedies. I love the whole “boy meets girl, they fall in love, crisis happens, they overcome crisis and live happily ever after” scenario. I love the “grand gesture.” I love fairy tales and weddings. I love declarations of undying love.

I love the song “The Scotsman.” I love that it’s a ribald ditty that I could never sing a church social.

I don’t think you have to be Mormon to make it to the highest degree of glory in the Celestial Kingdom. I think there will be people there who are now atheists, Buddhists, Hindus, Protestants, Catholics, etc. I think God loves us more than we can comprehend and I think His greatest sadness is the vitriol we spit at each other and at ourselves.

I suffer from bouts of depression. I am currently getting out of one such bout. I’m thinking about having to take medication for it, Tom Cruise and Scientology be damned! I also see a therapist on a regular basis.

I love rain. I love to listen to the drops of drizzle or the torrential wind-like sound of a down pour. I love the sun. I love to lift my face to its brilliance and feel the caress of its rays. I love wind. It’s a kiss from God. I love summer – the heat, cooling off in a lake, fireworks and barbecues (as long as I don’t have to host them!). I love winter – snow (as long as I don’t have to drive in it), wind and rain storms, cold days drinking cocoa inside, fires in the wood stove. I love fall – the crispness, the feeling of change, the gorgeous palette of nature and the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. I love spring – trees decked out in pastel blossoms of fluff, bits of green through patches of snow, and the damp smell of earth. I love the seasons in between the seasons. I don’t have a favorite.

I enjoy sex. I love orgasms, but sometimes they are just too much work. I love being naked with my husband. I do, however, prefer to sleep in my own bed and not be disturbed while sleeping, even by said cherished husband. I like to dance. I like to go wild and twirl and drop to the floor. I like to whirl my hair around and spin, particularly with the right kind of skirt. I like to hear a man who can really sing bass; the sound makes my toes curl in the most delicious way.

I’m 32. I have enormous size 10 wide feet. I’m only 5’4” and I weight 225 lbs. I have breasts and hips and thighs and more curves (including love handles) than an earth mother. I love that heroine and heroin are pronounced the same; it makes me feel like a woman is just as addictive as a narcotic. I love feeling sensual and powerful.

I bite my fingers (not my nails, just my fingers). I pick my nose and my ears. I have a planter’s wart on my right heel.

I love dark chocolate in its many forms. Chocolate milk should only be served in its whole milk form; anything other than that is a waste.

I still have dreams of castles, being a princess and Robert as my prince and riding off into the sunset on horses. I want my own horse though so Robert and I can race each other or ride the same horse if we choose. I like to keep my options open.

I care far too much about what other people think and, even more damning, I care too much about what I think they think. I need to give myself permission to live and to sin big, knowing that God loves me and that He and I can work everything else out at our pace, not someone else’s.

I sometimes get tired of paying tithing and think how we could live, much more easily, if we had that money instead of giving it to the church. Sometimes too I wonder if giving it to the church is really giving it to God. There is part of me that would like to bury it or give it to some other denomination.

I had a crisis of faith two years ago and seriously thought about leaving the church and ending seven generations of Mormons.

I nurse grudges and have a hard time forgiving others. I do understand that this is a weakness and it hurts me and I’m working on it but it’s a slow process.

Sometimes I still swear.

I believe in keeping the Sabbath holy. I also believe that I can be too Pharisaical about keeping that commandment. I try not to shop or do anything that would require someone else to work on my behalf (excluding the Lord’s work) but there are so many instances where I'm not sure where to draw the line. In 2006, my sister-in-law invited us to my nephew's birthday party at a miniature golf place on a Sunday. I agonized over this decision for weeks and finally decided not to attend because of the Sabbath. I still wonder if we made the right decision.

I believe strongly in the Law of Chastity and am so amazed, in this day of supposed logical thinking and reasoning, that popular society doesn’t embrace the idea of chastity outside of marriage despite the number of problems this law would remedy or, at least, improve. I believe that women should dress modestly as part of this law. While I disagree that modesty means no tank tops, no cleavage and no leg, I do think that we women should do our part to limit engendering sexual thoughts in others. I do believe that this is a team effort though and I think men are just as accountable. I think they should never be allowed to go topless, even at the beach. Remember those old fashioned one piece men’s bathing suits (I have a picture of my grandfather wearing one probably in the late 20’s or 30’s)? Bring ‘em back I say! (And no, I’m not trying to be sarcastic.) Women are just as capable of lascivious thoughts as men are and we need just as much help staying chaste as they do!

I think more women should stay home with their kids. I take heart from the knowledge that Sandra Day O’Connor did not begin her legal career until after she had raised her 5 children. I do think that I need to be a better mother and feel less guilt about the housework. I think I should find the money for a housekeeper and acknowledge that this is not a skill I possess and THAT’S OKAY!! It’s okay that I can’t clean well, decorate well or get all the stains out of our clothing. Housekeeping is NOT being a mother.

I think I need to have a writing voice that’s as big as my physical voice. I can boom loud enough so that 44 people can hear what I am saying amidst a busy airport. I remember one passenger saying, “I’m glad she’s not my wife!” Now, I need to have a content voice that’s just as big. I need to believe in what I say and own who I am even though I’m not perfect and I’m bound to meet people who disagree with me, contradict me and who even show me that I am wrong.

I have found a gay Mormon blog that I love. I love his voice – it is gentle and full of love for his partner and their family and for the gospel and his journey of trying to live in both worlds and live full of integrity. I really admire him and think he gets much more right than some of the most traditional of Mormons. If I could find his lesbian counterpart, I would love to read her blog too.

I am in love with my children. The sight of them can make me cry. The thought of their growing up and leaving does make me cry but also smile with pleasure at the thought of their being competent, capable and independent adults. I love to hear them laugh. I love their hugs and kisses and that look in their eye that says, more than words, that I am the most amazing mother ever. I can’t live without them. They also drive me nuts. I am so grateful for bedtime! They create chaos. They drain my funds. They generate so many of my struggles and yet I know I would do it all over again.

I think that if motherhood is to be equated with priesthood then we need to redefine motherhood. I think motherhood begins at 12, the same age as boys becoming deacons. I think motherhood is nurturing and loving. Motherhood is the embodiment of charity and closely describes God’s love for and relationship to us. Motherhood has little to do with birthing children and more to do with how we treat ourselves and those around us. Motherhood is femininity, strong and delicate; it is being a woman, only amplified. If the priesthood is the ability to act in the name of God, then motherhood is the ability to act in the name of the Goddess, two sides of the same coin.

I believe in a Heavenly Mother. I know that the church as a whole is silent on Her except for Her existence but I believe that when we reach the other side, we will see that She has been far more involved than we realized or understood. She loves me, just as much as God the Father and Jesus Christ do. And I don’t think She spends Her time cleaning Heaven or knitting but that our immortality and eternal life are just as much Her work and glory as they are the Father’s and the Son’s. (By the way, I find it ironic that spell check doesn’t care if I capitalize male pronouns for God but is offended by my capitalization of the female pronoun.)

I don’t really like animals all that much. I enjoy petting them and snuggling with them when I need to but I don’t really like having pets. I would really like to get rid of our dog and cat. The goldfish I would keep, but part of the reason I would keep him is that there is only one of him and he is residing in an ice cream gallon bucket. I have conflicted feelings about zoos and I feel guilty when I visit them.

I've peed my bed once, as I can remember, as an adult and yes, I was dreaming about going to the bathroom at the time.

I love The Vagina Monologues (except the one where an older lady is introducing a younger girl to her sexuality – how is that not child abuse?!) and cannot believe that bitch and ass can be said on network television without getting beeped but vagina and penis cannot. Since when did accurate names for body parts become vulgar?

I love women. I love how complex we are, I love how we help one another and I’m boggled by the energy we spend hurting one another. I love the relationships between women: mother-daughter; sisters; friends. I love women’s bodies and all their curves. I love that women can be pregnant and carry the next generation. I love that we can nurse our young at our breasts. I loved breast feeding and wish I had done it a little longer.

I love newborn babies. Babies and children are great on the whole but there is something even more amazing about newborns and that first month of life. I love their smell, their delicateness, and their freshly minted qualities. I love that you can feel goodness around them and that my heart swells, and I’m sure my eyes dilate, whenever I even look at one. I love holding them and rubbing their soft spot. I love their tiny skinny hands and feet.

As I write all of this, my euphoria produced “spit in the devil’s eye, I don’t care what any one thinks” attitude is fading and I don’t know what to say. Suddenly the thought of posting this becomes daunting. I shrink back to, “What will everyone think?”

April Fool's!

As mentioned in the comments section of April 1's post, I'm feeling a bit guilty. (Particularly since BiV posted and I'm a huge fan. Nothing like having someone you highly respect comment on what was a joke!) I did have a moment's hesitation before posting as I am highly gullible but in the end, my funny bone was too tickled not to hit the publish button. (BTW, the image to the left is a sheepish grin.)

I also thought it was fitting to share: yesterday, I took Lulu to APC. We were eating lunch in the cafeteria with all the 1 and 2 graders. The adult in charge got everyone's attention and announced that it would be "rainy day recess" and that everyone would have to return to their classrooms after eating lunch. The kids were stunned and the room was silent. I was outraged! Could they not see the sun streaming through the windows?! On previous days, when it had actually been rainy, they had still let the kids go outside with the admonishment to play on the black top only. Surely they could do so today?! The mother sitting next to me said, "Oh, April Fool's." Sure enough, the same adult in charge announced a few minutes later that it was indeed an April Fool's joke. The kids were laughing, throwing their heads back and howling kind of laughter. It was delightful. And I felt a bit foolish that at my age I was still as easily snookered as a six-year-old.

My boys came home and were full of: "Mom, there's something wrong with the computer;" "Lulu, your hair is green;" "There's a spider on the wall." "APRIL FOOL'S!" So much so that I had to call an end to the hilarity. But there was something so just plain fun about the innocent jests that I guess I wanted to get in on that.

Again, hope you have a chuckle. Forgive me. And know that I will most likely, visit from an angel of God excepting, only ever have my three children.

Good News!!

I just found out that I am preggers! Yea! Rob is being a wee bit grumpy about the whole matter; (something about no room and where the heck are we going to put a baby?!) but I am uber excited. I'm hoping for a sister for Emmalou but secretly, in the sickest part of my brain, I am hoping for twins so that this one will have a buddy (as Robert will ensure this never happens again, even if that requires lifelong abstinence). Oh well, we'll see what the future brings. The baby should be due in Nov/Dec. (I'm trying not to be too exact as my babies run later. And later. And later. And I'm really just hoping not to birth an elephant.) I know, so much for that summer baby but surprise are, well, surprises.