Miracle Update #2

Being back from AK, I suppose it is time to peruse my list and see how I'm doing. That and I have no idea what to blog. None. All these lovely Alaskan quirks and Calista Flockhart sightings don't exist here in, dare I say, backwoods Oregon. Just sun, heat, the lake, good friends and way too much work.

I was going to go through this point by point but so many of them have no activity so I'm just going to comment on anyone that I have to comment on besides saying, "Yeah. No. Nothing here." (As in all of the exercise related miracles.)

1. Read my scriptures, cover to cover, book to book. I have bee reading but not much progress. Bits and pieces here and there for my family scripture study time, gospel doctrine reading and trying to make it all the way through PGP. Still haven't even finished that one and it's the smallest. As previously mentioned, this may need to be revamped.

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. I think I am going to count BiV and Jill (if you don't mind). I've certainly been bold and posted and reached out online more than I ever thought I would; even spoken my mind on some important subjects despite the fear of rejection or mockery. I think that counts, so I'm marking this off.

5. Befriend someone I don't like.

6. Find a charity to support and donate, even a buck every month. Because at some point a decision has just got to made and because there are a million and one charities I would like to give to, I have finally selected Hopeline (1-800-SUICIDE). I figure there is probably not greater gift than the gift of life. I have also been at the bottom of the barrel and have great empathy. So now, time to start ponying up some dough.

7. Take two LCC math classes to bone up for grad school.

8. Call the Hult Center to look into volunteering as an usher.

9. Monthly dates with my DH. Told Robert and he thinks it's a great idea. We had a quiet night at home last month and Saturday (okay, technically that skips July but I was gone for 29/31 day!) we will be going out on a real date. A meal. No kids. Maybe a movie. Maybe parking. Oh, whoops, PG; keeping it PG.

10. Volunteer or, potentially, substitute in HS math.

11. Call Pacific University and discuss MEd program. Done. Discussed. I'm right on track, although it's actually a MAT (Masters in Arts, Teaching) degree. Apparently the MEd degree is for experienced teachers. A well, a Masters' a Masters' a Masters.)

12. Call UofO and discuss MEd programs. Ditto.

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.

15. Survive July in Alaska. July, as you could tell from my posts (I think) was quite lovely. The weather was great, I had a good time visting everyone and loving on my family and I got some great photos. Overall, I'm very pleased. It wasn't worth half the worrying I did over this one.

16. Attend a temple endowment session.

17. Attend a temple initiatory session.

18. Write 33 Thank You notes or "love letters." 1 down. Haven't written anymore. Lots in my head but on paper, no.

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.

21. Find hope again.

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 month/year of photos.

24. Get the photos on my computer developed. Temporarily done. I mean, I don't have any more photos on my computer. See, God helped. Who knew this was a miracle at the time?

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. Done!! Done, done, done!! Woohoo!

29. Come to grips with the imminence of death and see it as a blessing rather than a curse.

30. Begin to like my emotions.

31. Finish typing up my mom's journals.

32. Write an essay about something important to me. Does all that theodicy stuff count? I had anticipated, though, something requiring a bit of research and not merely me shooting off my opinion. We'll see. I must ponder this further.

33. Finish Step 9.

So that's where I stand today. About 6.5/33 done. (I'll call #24 once I hear back conclusively from the computer guy.) Not bad. Better than I thought. Keep praying for me though, some of the bigger miracles are still to come.

Taking Control

Alright people! I don't know what possessed my brain yesterday; I swear being tired is like being dead drunk. There will be no more discussion of extracurricular activities. None. I'm trying to move this back into a PG rating, which also means that I need to cut back on the cursing. Damn. Whoops.

Okay, I'm home. We're all safe. It's fabulous to be here. Robert is at work, all you people with dirty little minds.

We are planning to go to the lake. See, nothing but wholesome recreational activities going on here.

Now I have to get to work - unpacking, laundry, tending children, blah, blah, blah. Oh and did I mention personal finances? I flipped through all our mail last night (that's what I was busy doing when I said "Do Not Disturb." Some people and their assumptions!) and discovered that our power bill has not been paid and is due TODAY. Yup, today. So, I'm driving down to their local office and paying in person. I just have to remember to do that; that's the real trick.

Is it too late to wish to go back on vacation?

Being Home

I cannot even convey how wonderful it is to be home, in Robert's arms. *sigh of contentment*

Stranded at the Airport...

Branded a fool.
What will they say
Wednesday at school?

I'm tired.

Drag my butt across the floor tired.

I tried to sleep during the 2+ hours flight down from Alaska but plaintive cries of "Mom!" kept that from ever happening.

I was smart this time though and rented a Smart Carte (best $3 I've ever spent) and spent less time hauling all of my daughter's carry-ons and more time actually knowing where she was located.

We ate Wendy's burgers at 10 something am. (That's 9am Alaskan time.) Can we say "gut bomb?" That is the one good thing about having kids though; I can buy a big ol' shake at that time of morning and if anyone asks, I just shake my head, point to my left and mutter, "Kids." 'Nuff said.

3.5 hours more until we board and I paid $8 just to connect to the web. $8. Have I mentioned how cheap I am? That's like giving blood. Worse actually because if I give blood, I get a cookie and juice. Not to mention the fact that my money is all accounted for and safely in my pocket.

But I spent the money thinking surely I'd have something humorous to say, like Amy when she wiped her hemorrhoids with disinfectant wipes. But I ain't got nothin' close to that good. Just lots of whining (really, what can you expect? I've only had about 5 hours sleep and I'm a good solid 9 kind of girl), junk food and potties. My children (cough - Lulu and Quinn - cough) are enamored, no, no obsessed with the airplane and airport lavatories. Lulu has gone 1...2...3.4..5 times since we got off our plane at 9:30. 5 times in three hours. Even she has a bladder bigger than that. Quinn went 3 times during the flight. 3 times! I'm so grateful they were only climbing over each other and not some other poor airline customer.

Also, as I'm one who tends to learn from her mistakes (tends to, not a completely positive yes!), I wisely placed Lulu in a pull-up. She argued but eventually acquiesced. (It was 4am.) So, we're good. No subsequent flight delays.

Okay. I think I'm done.

I'm just really lonely and I'm secretly hoping my computer will just start talking to me. Adult conversation.

No Pokemon.

No "what if's."

No "he touched me" and all ensuing arguments.

No "MOM!!!!!!!"

What does it mean when you're starting to hope an inanimate object should start talking with you?

That you're delirious? That you're tired? That you're traveling with 3 semi-young children?

Something like that.

Anyway, talk to me friends. I'll be reading. For the next 3.5 hours anyway.

Bonus points if you guess where my bastardized poem is from. (See SC. Two can play this game.)

**It's now 1:58pm. I went to the bathroom (because I needed to not because I was trailing Lulu) and...well, you know how you pull up your shirt to button up your pants when you're done? Well my shirt stays up (because of my generous bosoms) and I forgot to pull it down. I went to wash my hands (thank heavens I remembered hygiene!) and saw myself - shirt up, bra hanging out. Woowooo! Coulda caused quite a stir here at SeaTac!

Ooh, and as another note of how exciting my time is here - I was cleaning all the lint that balled up in the inside corner of my daughter's blanket. (It has a nice big hole in the middle allowing access to all four inside corners but it's her favorite from when she was a baby and yeah, it will walk her down the aisle.)

Did you catch that? I'm actually picking lint. I need something to do.

Comment people!

+++3:03pm. Still here but we're down to one more hour. I think we can make it.

Lulu just single handedly knocked over the smart carte and is now being sentenced to quiet time.

Thank you Shelby for the all the posts. I had a good time catching up. I also want to say that I'm glad your blog is mostly pictures because I can barely read. Seriously, I couldn't even read Sue's blog and that's saying something!

OK....I'm even too tired to type. I can't believe I'm posting this. Please don't read.

Close Encounters of the Alaskan Kind

We went to a birthday party last Friday at Sara's house, the one with the bear poop. We had a lovely time. We bowled and ate pizza. We went back to the house, opened presents and had cake and ice cream. The kids went outside and played noisy games with balloons. Much running and screaming abounded. Then, to top it all off - because Sara is the hostess with the mostess, we had our own wildlife show.

Yup, that's Smokey wandering through the neighborhood.

(Happily he wasn't interested in our yard.) Apparently he was being tracked though as he had a lovely collar on.

It also made me chuckle to see all the adults (the children were shewed inside - we do have some sense) standing outside, chatting and watching the bear.

He took off when some trucks drove down the street.

All in all, a wee bit surreal.

I've seen bears in Alaska before but I was generally near a salmon spawning stream or hiking somewhere; this is the first time one came to greet me at (almost) my door.

PS - Sorry about the poor picture quality; it was after 9pm and the sun was only offering low lighting. And the bear wasn't close enough for my flash to work.

#28

It's funny to me but this one was supposed to be an easy miracle; a bit of a breather to offset some of the more meaty miracles. To quote my sons, "Yeah. Right."

I've been trying to get my every-trip-to-Alaska picture in front of the glacier since we got here. Week 1 was filled with adjusting and saying "Hello!" Week 2 was filled with bookkeeping work. Week 3 was fill with Vacation Bible School which took way more time that I thought it would and while I enjoyed our stroll out to the Shrine, I didn't get to the glacier. So Week 4, being our last week in town, I was determined to get my shot.

It rained. It misted. It rained. It fogged. It rained. It poured. It rained. It blew.

Did I mention it rained?

No shot.

Last night I lie in bed thinking of all that I need to do during my last few days in town; the photo shoot at the glacier (if I can call it that) was at the top of the list. I said my prayer for good weather and went to bed.

This morning, the sun was shining!

I was thrilled. I thanked God and praised Him for His mercy and got busy with my chores and working in the photo shoot before my niece's birthday.

Then I became day care central. I helped Mia out by watching her two in the morning thinking I could put mine down for a nap after lunch, finish my chores and everything would work like clockwork. And it did. Until my little brother showed up.

Last minute, no warning, he asked me to watch his two oldest while he hurried to work (he'd been called in) and then meet him at the party.

Oooookay. No problem. I'm a professional. I can handle this.

Everything went beautifully, the kids had fun (building a "grave" no less, how do they come up with this stuff?) and we left to run some errands at 3:30pm.

Problem #1: All Routes Cut Off.
My first stop was to return $5 to Costco (I had asked for $20 back and they gave me $25 - I just hadn't had a chance to return). The normal turn off was closed because something had fallen onto the local nursing home or something. Idunno. So I drove to the next exit. Closed due to construction. So I drove to the next exit and then backtracked the last few miles. The road to Costco was blocked due to some hazardous materials. Or something. Again, Idunno. Finally got to Costco, keep in mind this is just to return $5, and have to wait in line. And wait. Did you know that I had a 9yo, 2 - 7yos and 2 - 4yos? Yeah. And so we wait....

Problem #2: Trying To Do The Right Thing.
Finally, it's my turn. I briefly tell the story, "Yeah, soyougavemeextramoneywhenIcameintoshopafewweeksagoandIjustwanttoreturnit. Here. " I hand her the money.

"When was this?"

"Ummm, Idunno. A couple weeks ago."

"Do you have your card?"

Seriously?! "Uh, yeah....justasec."

"Do you remember what you bought? Any fresh produce?"

Okay, I can't barely remember the names of my children and she wants me to remember what I purchased during a routine grocery trip two weeks ago? Is she smokin' crack?!

"Ummm...I bought some carrots...." Long pause. "I spent about $17..."

"Oh, here, $20 cash back. Thank you."

She takes the $5, "It's just easier on our auditors."

I know that as a bookkeeper I should have some sympathy but really, I thought my conscience wasn't worth $5....I'm rethinking that now.

So, we all load up (Did I mention I had 5 kids with me?) and drive to my brother's house to drop off the two extras and head out for the photo shoot.

Problem #3: No Parents; Scary Seat
We pull up at my little brother's house and see my car is there, the door is open, all seems to be well but....no one is home. "Now why," you may ask, "don't you just load up all those kids and head to the glacier?" Good question. I pondered that but I needed to pick up a photographer (my friend Sara who lives only a little bit away from the glacier) and the van wouldn't fit us all unless someone sat in the nasty seat. You know, the actual van seat left after removing the toddler car seat for a one year old child. There was a full meal glued to that seat by the saliva, tears, snot and, perhaps, other bodily fluids of my favorite toddler niece. I wouldn't sit there. I wasn't going to force my children to sit there.

So we waited.

Miracle Part 1: Entertainment
Happily they have a Wii. Our stay wasn't too painful.

Miracle Part 2: Adults Return
They arrive, after only a fifteen minute wait, and my children and I go to Sara's house.

Miracle Part 3: Photographer
After a long story (I'm making an attempt to shorten this!) which ends with my friend (who is actually home because I never did bother to call and request that she be my photographer) and I hauling ass to my car, my friend butt bumping her daughter out of the way while she slides into shotgun and then locks the doors and then drive away like a bat outta Hell (way fun by the way), we make it to the glacier.

Miracle Part 4: Parking
I attempted to park in the original parking lot, which is really close to the glacier but is really tiny and generally full during the height of tourist season. We found one empty spot right up front. Thank you Lord!

Miracle Part 5: Empty Stage
We ran down to the photo area where I always stage our picture and, while there are some people there, it is almost empty compared to the horde that can be there when the busses have just unloaded. So we slip in, take the shots and leave. A half hour later, and the last to arrive at the party, I have completed #28!

Here's the results:

Did you forget I had a paranoid hubby? This is why I needed my friend to take the photograph instead of a tourist; how would I explain needing a picture of our backsides? And how would I explain to said stranger the need to have my oldest strategically placed so as to make my backside look a little smaller? Yeah. I agree. Personal photographer totally needed.

The other pictures turned out well too.

Another Reason to Love a Port City

I was getting ready to leave for my niece's birthday party when I spotted this rolling into town:

How can you not love living in a town with a regular (but not too regular) influx of handsome men in dress whites?

Things I Forgot

You know when you have your first Twinkie or Oreo in the last year and you take that first bite and think, "Damn! These are good! Why have I waited so long to have one?" and then you eat the whole bag? Yeah, I'm having that kind of moment in Alaska. Every day I am reveling in some newly remembered piece of living here and wondering why I've been gone for so long.

There are bald eagles everywhere.

I love their cry. (Don't watch the whole thing - it gets boring - just listen to the eagle in the first several seconds.)

The other day I was walking to work from Mia's and I walked by several of them in a tree top. They were chattering back and forth to each other in the tree. It was an amazing sound that makes my heart happy. In Oregon, I always look up at the sky and get excited when I see the shape of a raptor until I realize that it is just a hawk or a falcon close up and not a eagle soaring up high.

There are also ravens.

I can see why the Native Alaskans from this area adopted the Raven and the Eagle as the emblems of their tribes. They are both amazing birds, clever and beautiful. The raven call is also very distinctive and far prettier than a crow's caw.

Then there are the misty, cloudy days when every thing is gun metal grey.

The melding of mountain, snow, trees, water and landscape.

I love looking around me here and just seeing God. Alaska is just so...monumental...grand. I miss that in Oregon. There is nothing really larger than life, nothing to remind me that I am small, nothing and that this is all momentary. Here, I can see beyond myself, even for a moment, and feel a little more calm. (Of course, that peace is still ruined the moment my children whine but for that moment....bliss.)

And then there's the glacier. No pictures to post yet (yes I'm aware that there is a miracle hanging on this and yes I know it would be a huge shame to miss my favorite part of town but there it is). Stay tuned.

Random Posts that I Keep Forgetting To Put Up

HEY! I WON SOMETHING!!

Okay, it's little and it's small and it's neon green but it was a free present in the mail and that counts for a lot! Where did I get you say? From this lovely website that tells you where to give good deals and then gives you the opportunity to win free stuff. (What's not to like?)


Do Bears *&@# In The Woods?

I'm not sure but they do in my friend's yard.

It was an odd thing to hear, several times, admonishments to the children to "Watch out for bear poop!"

You Want Me To Eat Where?

We picnicked at Eagle Beach after our visit to the Shrine. The picnic benches were sturdy things that have been there for as long as I can remember. They have definitely weathered many an Alaskan winter (and summer for that matter) though.

[Note the lovely moss and lichen.] [Note the canister of carrots that are untouched. That never changed but the Rice Krispie treats were fully devoured.]

A Moment of Peace

There was this very lovely prayer labyrinth.

The path was laid out with stones (which made it very easy for the girls to get to the center - they jumped over the rocks - while the boys struggled as they tried to actually solve the thing)

and in the middle was a giant boulder with all sorts of offerings.

I loved the spirit of that place and feeling the hopes and dreams and worries and prayers of so many people laid upon that altar and given to God.

Woman Power!

I had a few moments at the Shrine (I think I was getting vibes from Ayla) and took some "girl power photos." Lulu and I posed, just the two of us, in front of the statue of St. Therese. And then, following the stations of the cross, I snapped this photo.

I love to think about Our Savior and the way He treated the women around Him. I love that women are a vital part of the Plan of Salvation. I love that during the crucifixion, entombment and resurrection, there are women everywhere. This moment seemed to sum all that up.

That may be all but then again, knowing my supreme flakiness, that may be not.

Experimenting at Mia's House

Did you ever have a slumber party as a child? I did. I loved slumber parties and never worried that the name implied any actual sleeping; it just meant that I would be partying somewhere other than under my parents' watchful eye.

As a parent, I'm ready to bring back the true meaning of slumber party: a gathering of people wherein they sleep. No eating, no drinking, no chatting, no staying up late, just sleeping and, consequently, a house full of silence.

Tonight we are spending the night at Mia's house. (And if you're wondering why she has no recent posts, it's because she's been watching my children whilst I work and blog. What a SIL!) The cousins are all in one room (5 children in one room!). We told them to pretend that they were in an orphanage and it was lights out time. My SIL told her oldest son that orphanages handed down severe punishments for failure to go to sleep on time. I don't think our children connected the dots. There have been 12 potty breaks, 11 drinks of water (each), 10 complaints on sleeping arrangements, 9 toys cast out of bed, 8 bruises from child to child beatings, 7 tears shed, 6 whispers, "Shhhh....mom's coming!", 5 exchanges of blankets, 4 cries of, "Where's my lovie?" 3 (thousand) rounds of giggles, 2 "This wasn't what I thought would happen at our slumber party," and one mother ready to move to Maine. How was this a good idea?

To All The Utah Mormon Mommies

Hey.

How are you?

Are the kids behaving today? Will they leave you alone for just a moment so we can chat?

Oh, good. Here, have some fabulous homemade hot cocoa (one of my best recipes I think). A little whipped cream? Oh, no, you look beautiful and you're visiting me so no calories. Fabulous, no?

Alright, let me grab my cocoa and sit down. Oof - ah, that feels good.

Okay, so here's what's on my mind. I have this friend, one of my best friends in the whole entire world, who moved to Utah, Lehi area, almost two years ago. The thing is she's not LDS. So, she's been feeling a little...on the outside. Two years and she feels more alienated now then when she moved.

I know! Shocking! I would have thought that by this point she'd have been invited over for FHE or for light refreshments or, at the very least, that she would have found some good, fabulous LDS friends because really, girls, we are fabulous women.

But, here's the thing, some people haven't been very nice. Again - shocking! What has happened, you ask? Let me share some events with you.

Her daughter's teacher was given a gift from all the classroom moms - no one bothered to ask my dear friend. I'm sure they thought they had talked to everyone via the church connection, but she doesn't go and so she got missed.

People constantly ask about why she only has one child and if she's going to have more (which is very personal and private and trust me when I say that she has good reasons - not that it should matter).

Her daughter has been called fat by some not-so-kind LDS kids. I know. Mine wouldn't do that either but it happened.

Her daughter was sent home from a neighbor's house with the statement (from the neighbor's child), "You're wearing spaghetti straps. That's not modest. I can't play with you. You need to leave my house." Yeah, I understand. We don't wear spaghetti straps and don't think they're modest but I don't think that disqualifies a friend. Don't you think? Yeah, I thought we'd be on the same page.

Some kids won't play with her daughter because she's not LDS. Oh, and here's a classic, "Why don't you go to church? You need to go to church or you're going to Hell!"

Yeah. I was speechless too. But it happened.

It's sad. I'm sad over this. Wanna know why? Well, I'm sure you'll agree, no one should ever be treated like this but also because my friend, she's seriously fabulous! She holds many of our LDS values dear: a strong love of family, love for God, a desire to be better and to make the right choices for her and her family, the importance of kindness and generosity. She is a wonderful woman and I'm waiting for the moment she moves back to Oregon so I can hang out with her once more. And her daughter (she's 6 by the way) is sweet, fun and playful. She would be a great friend to any of your children. My daughter loves her.

So, I'm hoping that we can get some people together and maybe redeem the word "Mormon" (which is becoming a 4-letter word to my friend).

What?

No problem?

Yea! I'm so happy!

Thanks for having this chat with me. I know it's hard to discuss such matters - we always hope that this sort of situation wouldn't happen - but I'm grateful for your cheerful response; I know we can make my friend feel more at home in Utah. I've heard from so many people what a wonderful place it is to live and while I want my friend to run home to Oregon, I hope she does so missing some of you wonderful people.

Ah, that was good cocoa. Would you like some cookies on your way out?

Oh no, it's my pleasure. Here, take a dozen - enough for the family to eat and leave your extras alone. (I recommend eating them in a locked closet to prevent any "I want some" whines.)

Have a great day!

I Am Unique

I went to this website and entered my name. Apparently there is one or fewer people in the US that have my name, either married or maiden. Who knew? (Do I really exist? Maybe I'm only half a person.) So happy I'm an original! They're are eight of my husband (but one of those is his uncle). I'm wondering who the other six are....

I Even Have Anxieties About Facebook

While I love blogging, I've been going online a bit and feeling at loose ends - nothing to blog and I'm not really wanting to read. Maybe I need a real hobby.... So, in a moment of weakness, I joined Facebook. My friend, Alexa, has encouraged me to join but I always put it off - really, how much time do I need to spend online? Can I just say that Facebook is absolutely overwhelming? I thought it was cool to see all these people from high school, college or just friends that I haven't seen in awhile. But I like to be invisible for awhile, to dip my toe in the water before jumping in. Facebook doesn't let you do that (not that I could see) and by the time church was over, I had all these invites from people who wanted to know how I was. It was flattering - maybe they really liked me! And also scary and kind of like the reunion - after I say hello and tell them the highlights of my life, what else are we going to say? Do I hand out my blog address? So. many. questions!

Part of this is exacerbated by my issue of never really believe that people like me; I'm always internally questioning my friends: Do they really care? Are they just being nice? What if I dropped off the face of the planet, would they notice? I love and totally understand Sally Field's acceptance speech of her first Oscar, "You like me! You really like me!" My problem is that I would need to win another Oscar soon, like, oh, the next week, in order to keep that feeling going.

There are a few relationships in which I feel utterly secure and have no doubts (generally), my marriage being one. (I do, however, still keep him up nights, every so often, with the whole, "Do you love me? Why? Would you marry me again? What do you like best about me besides my enormous breasts?" He just loves it! I can't stop because he would miss it! Ha!) But, for the most part, I am a horribly insecure person. So when I first saw this huge list of names of people I actually did know, I thought, "Oooh, hey! It's so and so! I must talk to them! Wait....what if they don't want to talk to me." And then I stopped. So getting all those invites has been nice, affirming in a way, maybe people really do like me. But at the same time I hesitate, "Why?" I want to ask. Don't you find me obnoxious? Don't all these neuroses kind of get to you after a while and you start to think, "Could she talk about something other than herself?" I guess part of me likes the mystique of every one thinking that just maybe I'm doing something amazing and have miraculously become the most fabulous person they know. Once they find out that I'm still plain, neorotic Maraiya, though, hmmm....will they be wishing they had not decided to "add a friend?"

Gifts for Jesus

Thursday (July 17) Mia and I and all our kids went to the Shrine of St. Therese. We walked the stations of the cross and the girls were enraptured by the large crucifix.

I found their conversation and comments endearing.

Lulu: Look, Jesus is watching me.

Sashi: I found a feather. Let's give it to Jesus.

They then placed the feather at the foot of the cross and screamed something awful when it blew away. We finally found a rock to anchor the feathers to the base of the cross.

I love the innocence of my 4yo daughter and my 5yo niece.

Interrogating My Children

I picked up this meme from some blog off Mormon Mommy Blogs (sorry I don't remember which one or I would totally link to you) and I thought it was fabulous. I was convinced my children were going to give horrible answers but they were surprisingly kind and loving. Maybe, just maybe I'm a better mom than I think.

Rhys gives the first answers, Quinn the second, and Little Lulu is last.

1. What is something mom always says to you?

"Hi."

"No."

"Please clean up your room."


2. What makes mom happy?

"Us being nice to her, like us listening to her."

"Ummm...Being dry."

"Picking up my food and throwing it away."


3. What makes mom sad?

"Us not obeying her."

"Yelling at her."

"If I don't clean up my room."


4. How does your mom make you laugh?

"Teases me."

"Tickles me."

"Tickling with a feather."


5. What was your mom like as a child?

"Um...um...nice?"

"I'm not sure."

"She was little in Nana's tummy!"

6. How old is your mom?

"She is thirty-*sigh*, thirty-four?"

"Twenty-three."

"(whisper) I don't know. Same age as Poppa."


7. How tall is your mom?

"4 foot...4 feet and 10 inches or 5 feet....5 foot 7?"

"I'm not sure."

(She raised her hands as tall as she could reach.)


8. What is her favorite thing to do?

"Play with us."

"Clean clothes."

"Make my bed and I get to help her make her bed. I always help Mommy make her bed."


9. What does your mom do when you're not around?

"She does just like a normal day, like she would do with me."

"Watch movies."

"Cry."


10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?

"Because she's the best mom in the entire world."

" 'Cuz she looks good."

" 'Cuz the do know you and they love you and they really know your name, Maraiya."


11. What is your mom really good at?

"Being a mom."

"Attacking kids."

"She's really good at thinking."


12. What is your mom not very good at?

"Nothing. She's not good at nothing. She's good at everything. She doesn't have anything she can't do."

"Biking, 'cuz she hasn't biked for a long time."

"Turning on TV's."


13. What does your mom do for her job?

"First she worked as kind-of like a lawyer for people who didn't have money to hire one and now she stays home and helps us."

"Nothing. She doesn't have one."

"Work."


14. What is your mom's favorite food?

"Anything?"

"Spinach?"

"Chinese food."


15. What makes you proud of your mom?

"She's very helpful. She's the best."

"She lets me stay up sometimes and watch movies."

" 'Cuz you are the best mom. Really best mommy."


16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?

"Pinky or the Brain."

"Avatar."

"Belle."


17. What do you and your mom do together?

"Have Family Home Evening and help each other do work."

"Watch movies."

"We play with Barbies."


18. How are you and your mom the same?

"She used to be nine years old like I am nine years old."

"We like playing on the computer."

"We can entertain ourselves and she's such a beautiful girl and she's really good at ballet."


19. How are you and your mom different?

"We're different ages."

"I like playing video games and she kinduv doesn't."

"Her hair doesn't match."


20. How do you know your mom loves you?

"Because she let's me read as long as I can in the summer."

"Because she let's me stay up."

"She really loves me. And types it on her computer."

And by the way, never been a lawyer. I worked for legal services as a high school student. It's interesting how kids interpret things.

My DH

Robert is the most amazing man I've ever met.

He works hard for his family at a job that is physically difficult. He has chronic back problems and his job as an auto technician isn't easy on his back. Yet he gets up and works every day no matter how badly he hurts or how much he walks like an 80 year old. When we're gone he works on the home (I have a beautiful new front porch) trying to make our poor-white-trash-house look a little more respectable.

He loves licorice (even the black stuff - we all have our failings) and Dots and Gummis and all the chewy candy, which is great for me because that means my chocolate goes completely untouched. We are so sympatico!

He is emotional evenness to my roller coaster. I will be up and down and happy and sad and laughing and crying and screaming and silent and he just is. He listens, he holds me when I cry (letting his chest or his shirt get sopping wet) and he listens to my stupid jokes and stories (occasionally laughing like when I drag my butt across the floor imitating the Stanley Steamer dog) without complaint.

He has high standards for household cleanliness and I'm convinced that he would have loved being the man of the house in the '50's but he's trying to get over that. He does the dishes when I'm burnt out from housework and kids and too tired (or even when I just don't want to because, well, dishes are not my favorite thing). He vacuums and organizes my pantry beautifully so I can actually find things.

He has always eaten anything that I have made him for dinner. Which is saying something because he used to work as a chef and makes the most delicious food. (Seriously? Mouth so happy! I love it when he surprises me with a Robert concocted meal; I am never disappointed.) I remember being a newlywed and I cooked pork that was overdone and dry and bland. He took a bite and said, "This is good." He then ate the rest of his potatoes and other sides but didn't eat much of the pork chop. I've learned that when he really likes it, he will eat it all and maybe more and he will eat the leftovers. If he doesn't, he won't say one bad word about it but he will slyly try to get out of eating it.

By the way, did I mention he cooks for me? He has made me candies and chocolate chocolate cake too when the moment necessitated it. And the end result of all this good food lovin', he never complains about my weight. Never. He thinks I'm hot. I look in the mirror and frankly, I don't see the attraction at all. But he does. And I'm so grateful for that.

He is the most amazing father. Really. Lots of times I think he is a better father than I am a mother. He listens to the kids and talks with them. He patiently teaches them new things and allows them to engage in his adult activities (gardening, building things in the garage and cooking). I'm much more prone to tell them to go play while I finish it up faster and more neatly than with helpers. He plays with them and reminds me to let them be kids. They all adore daddy and I'm grateful for the balance he brings to my parenting.

He grows a beautiful vegetable garden (everyone gives me the credit but I'm quick to steer them his way - really, I'm not being humble I'm just trying to get out of giving gardening lessons in Relief Society) including tomatoes and every year he makes me fresh from the garden salsa. Yum! In fact, that is one of our favorite meals: fresh salsa, chips, homemade guacamole and Daisy sour cream with a Weinhardt's root beer.

I don't even know how to describe this but over the last three years he has stepped up to the plate in the most amazing way. My mother's death has been a difficult thing for me to accept and move past and he has been patient and loving the whole way. He took care of the kids and the house when I could barely get dressed for the day. He has encouraged me to get help, partly for his own sanity - it's hard on him to see me depressed - but also because he worries about my health and happiness. And when I get cranky for no apparent reason every June and July, he loves me anyway.

Further, he himself has grown and begun to see things from new angles. He has mellowed and worked actively to make better choices and to be the best he can be, regardless of the choices of others.

He supports me. This blog was a scary thing for him initially; he is private and likes to control his world and this opens a window to the world. He and I have different opinions and views on many things but he loves that I am speaking my mind more, even on controversial subjects. He is constantly reminding me not to care about what other people think. He tells me that I should just be concerned with God and with myself and sometimes him, but that really I need to be true to myself and God and not worry about the rest.

He is not a morning person, not in the least. We have learned, through much trial and error, that the best choice in the morning is just not to engage at all. I make sure he's up in time to get to work (15 minutes before he has to be there) and then I stay out of his way. It works well although I never miss an opportunity to remind him that I would like a good-bye kiss in the morning but I'm not holding my breath. Occasionally there are skirmishes in the morning and when there are, he will call about an hour later from work and apologize (if he's the one at fault). I love that he takes responsibility for his choices. I'm trying to get better at that. Historically I have not been the best at saying that I'm sorry or that I'm wrong.

I'm not sure if anyone will read this all the way to the end but I did just want to say that I love my husband and I love who is he now and where we are headed together. And no, our anniversary (11) is not until September.

Hey Carrie...

Some of us come to Alaska for all the right reasons!

Mia and kids and my family all went out to the Shrine of St. Therese and Eagle Beach. It was a lovely day and the rain (misty stuff at that) didn't start until well after our picnic was over and we were ready to go home.

Oh, and while we're on the subject of hubba hubba man....one of my friends Sara, who's my cousin because her father is the brother of my mother's sister's husband, was out visiting her family in another town and ran into the Ford/Flockhart brood celebrating the fourth. Everything went well until someone asked for his picture and then everyone started to flock and they had to leave. Can I just say that sometimes it's nice to go where nobody knows your name?

Neuroses

Do you ever have days when you just want to curl up in bed? But you force yourself to participate anyway? And then you wonder, as you sit and type on your self-indulgent blog at home, if anyone even cares? I mean, people love you but do you ever think that they love you because God gifted them with love for you and so they tolerate you but really they're hoping you'll find a new set of friends? Soon? Then you leave comments with random people on the internet, hoping to sound friendly and smart and you're afraid you just sound like a big dweeb and people are hoping you'll find a new blog to stalk? And that when you try and comment on important things, theodicy and such, that people think you're an idiot with your head up your ass and wonder why you bother contributing on such topics when clearly you could contribute better to society by baking chocolate chip cookies? And then you start to hover over the "delete this whole damn blog" button but then think that would be too dramatic so you try to think of a way to just fade from the blogging scene? And then you just sigh to yourself and suck it up and realize that you started all this to keep in touch with loved ones (who really do love you) and then to stick your neck out just a bit, to exercise that brain so that maybe some day you'll stop sounding like such an idiot and to be brave and risk mistakes hoping that eventually you start getting better and make less mistakes? And that you should just go to bed because the real problem is lack of sleep because you stayed up way too late (midnight) the night before playing Build-a-Lot at a friends house?

No? You never have days like that?

Good, 'cuz I don't either.

Nope.

Not me.

Perfectly sane on this end.

Just ask my therapist.

Rock Band

I played Rock Band for the first time ever in my life last night at Mia's house. For the first bit Mia and I shared vocals and my brother and his friend played the drums and guitar respectively. Can I just say that I am so not a rocker chick? I know that my alter ego probably loves the hard stuff but I'm more pop and light and easy (sad to say). That said, I had a great time even though it was difficult singing melodies to songs that I have never heard. Ever. Some of my melodies were like alto harmonies - one note and off key at that.

So we switched it around a bit. I got to play the drums for a few rounds. You'd think it was easy. My brother makes it look oh so simple as he wails away on the thing. I was flubbing every other beat. I sucked. At the end of the song it tells you how well you did. I looked up and saw a 79%.

The conversation went a little something like this:

Me: Ah, man, I totally suck at this. I can't believe I'm so lame. I got a 79! I totally brought down the whole song. It's a wonder we didn't fail the song and get booted off the stage.

Brother: Uh, Mouse, you got a ___ [can't remember but it was higher than 79]. Mia [who was singing] got the 79.

Me: Oh.

Silence.

Sound of crickets chirping.

Me(a little too enthusiastically): Mia, you did great! That was really hard! You didn't even know the song. I think you did a really awesome job! Good job Mia!

Mia: So, you think I sucked?

Today....

Mia: So you think I suck at Rock Band?

Mea culpa. I seem to be saying that a lot since coming to Alaska. What can I say? I don't think foot and mouth disease is curable.

Also, I guess this teaches me a lesson about dogging myself. I did great! It was a hard song! Who knew I could play so well for the first time! (Even if my score on the guitar was only 65%.)

Oh, and can I just say that I rocked Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville? I did. Because I knew the song. Because I will on occasion sing that song in the shower. I kicked it out of the park. 98%! How Margaritaville ended up as a song in the game I will never know. I suspect that they were trying to throw a sop to poor players like me who don't rock out very well.

[For the record, Mia is very good at this game. She could play the guitar on medium and get 99%. She rocks. She's much better than me. Sorry for any insult intended in this post which was meant to only mock me.]

A Response to BiV

I've been reading your recent posts and though about commenting but I think it would be a bit too long. I know so many people who have been troubled by the idea of God allowing suffering. I am not. Oh sure, I've been known to whine and scream and even say, "Why me?" but I know it has to happen; I don't want to be Dudley Dursley.

My favorite quote on this subject came from Pres. Kimball in Faith Precedes the Miracle,

"Is there not wisdom in his giving us trials that we might rise above them, responsibilities that we might achieve, work to harden our muscles, sorrows to try our souls? Are we not exposed to temptations to test our strength, sickness that we might learn patience, death that we might be immortalized and glorified?

"If all the sick for whom we pray were healed, if all the righteous were protected and the wicked destroyed, the whole program of the Father would be annulled and the basic principle of the gospel, free agency, would be ended. No man would have to live by faith.

"If joy and peace and rewards were instantaneously given the doers of good, there could be no evil - all would do good but not because of the rightness of doing good. There would be no test of strength, no development of character, no growth of powers, no free agency, only satanic controls.

"Should all prayers be immediately answered according to our selfish desires and our limited understanding, then there would be little or no suffering, sorrow, disappointment, or even death, and if these were not, there would also be no joy, success, resurrection, nor eternal life and godhood."

I think that most of this goes along with the idea that we suffer, in large part, to better ourselves and to create gods out of men, even when suffering is caused by someone else's bad choice. (Rom 8:28) But I like his illusion to the fact that if there weren't suffering, we would indeed be following Satan's plan and not that of a loving God. It's an odd paradox, but I don't think we would have suffering in this world if we were not the children of a loving Father. Satan's plan, to return all to heaven by force, would have required no suffering (or very little - even the donkey quickly learns to seek the carrot rather than the stick) but who would we be after such a life on earth? How could we hope to continue in the heavens, to have eternal life as opposed to mere immortality, if we were mindless robots who were simply used to following where we were led? God, while He does ask for obedience, requires faith and a willingness to endure. Thus good is not always rewarded with good. Sometimes consequences follow only after a prolonged waiting period. Life is sticky, chaotic and messy. But I think that all of this suffering and craziness is to point us back to God, to allow Him to make it work for our betterment and to turn our God given weaknesses into strengths (Ether 12:27).

Finally, I don't think that God is a finite God. I believe Him to be omniscient, omnipotent and omni everything. I do believe that He can be finite in action but it is because He chooses to be finite not because He is. As I thought about all of this, I can't explain why this is an easy thing for me to accept (theoretically, in the fire I think it all sucks) but I couldn't help thinking of raising my own children. It drives me crazy to tell them no. I want to lavish them with anything and everything their little hearts desire. I want to give them all the experiences they want, to make them the best at everything and to remove every boulder or even pebble that would cause them the slightest anguish. But I know that I cannot. I, unlike God, don't have the power, but even if I did, I wouldn't. I want them to learn who they are, to experience the down sides and gain compassion. I want them to hurt and to be grateful for when that pain ends. I want them to taste it all and to know, for certain, for themselves, what they want and what they are choosing. In the end, I think God's means and ends are similar. He doesn't want Heaven full of spoiled brats with hands out looking for more ease; He wants people who have chosen to be there in spite of all.

Epiphany

I, apparently, didn't post enough about my reunion as I have gotten a few more questions (see comments to last post). No, the skinny girls were still skinny and overtly successful. Yes, I was the fattest one there. Yes, I think I had a fun time despite some awkward moments. No, I don't think anyone would have really missed me if I failed to show.

But, I did have a wee bit of an epiphany. (Is a wee epiphany an oxymoron?)

As I talked with people and heard their life stories, I realized that everything is a trade-off (and yes, you can remind me of this post when I start whining about my existential blues). True, I don't have a highly successful career as a physician (as I was sure I would when I was in high school). True, I'm just a SAHM (and yes, Oprah, I say just). But I started thinking about what I have traded my life for. I am able to be home with my children and give them my time and energy. Robert and I aren't running in opposite directions or trying to squeeze a million things in one day. I'm not saying that if a mom works outside the home that her children are doomed, but I do know how hard it is to run a smooth, happy household when both parents are working; shoot, I know how hard it is to run a smooth, happy household when only one parent works outside the home.

So, here's the thing: Robert and I have chosen to have a family and to raise them with me at home with them. Time will change and things will adjust but for now this is our focus and how we have chosen to parent. We have both sacrificed quite a bit to enable our household to continue as is. I believe that there will be rewards from our sacrifices and I believe that I still have a great deal more time to chase my dreams and to make it to Europe. Maybe even be a physician. But at the end of the day, I have great kids who know they are loved. And that is success.

I'll save the world in another year or two. Or fourteen.

15th Reunion

Well, I never did RSVP. I was feeling still completely hesitant about going up until the minute I did. But God, He's a good God and He took good care of me.

The reunion was on the 5th and on the 4th, as we were all sitting around at the BBQ, Mia asked me to go on a walk. So we walked past all the festivities to the beach. We walked down toward the water and I looked to my left and saw a girl whom I had grown up with, Regina. We went to school together from elementary all the way through high school. (And I liked her.) I got very excited and she and I started chatting. She introduced me to her family and I introduced her to Mia. I told her about the reunion (she didn't know about it) and we discussed going (neither of us were sure but I advised to eat first so they wouldn't have to eat there - I do respect the whole RSVP thing).

So, when I went to the reunion, lucky me, I was the first one there other than the hostesses. We said hello, oohed and aahed over their babies, chatted and then, awkward silence. I knew all the hostesses but, well, we weren't exactly best of friends. Or even good friends. Or even really friends. More like general acquaintances. But, here's where the God is good part comes in, the girl from the 4th at the beach, Regina, she was the 2nd person to show up. I ran to her (no hyperbole) and hugged her - so happy! I told her that I had left my kids with Mia figuring that it would be an easy out, "Oh sorry, I've got to split and go get my kids." Turns out, Regina did a similar thing; her teenaged daughter was working and while she could get her mother to pick up the child, she was opting to do so, "Oh sorry, I've got to split and go get my daughter." Fabulous. Isn't there a line about great minds thinking alike?

Regina became my anchor and I clung to her side for the next little bit, welcoming others who showed up, some of whom I only had a vague recognition (they weren't even up to acquaitance status) and then Nell showed up. I was thrilled. I had gone to her wedding and had thought of her over the years but hadn't seen her since then (oh, 14 years ago). She and I chatted, exchanged email addresses and then I was off. Outta there! Coincidentally, or not, Regina and I basically left at the same time. I'm so glad God sent a friend, even one I'm not close with and haven't spoken to in years, to my rescue because, really, I felt like the uncool kid who somehow scores an invite to the popular kids' party only to stand in a corner sipping her water all night and watching with that creepy kind of lonely desparation.

Am I going to go to my 20th? I don't know. There are a few people I would really like to see who say that they will be at the 20th. If they go, I'll go. Barring that, I think I could actually find a party with my ultra cool friends and then I could be the one in the center of the room dancing on the table. So much more fun than sipping water in the corner.

Fun on the 4th

We had a good time on the 4th, lack of sleep notwithstanding. We kicked it off by waiting in front of the post office for a good hour before the parade started. Then, the children ran like fiendish beings after all that candy. Really, who cares about firetrucks, marching bands and floats - lets just have some random people walking down a cordoned off street throwing out bags and bags of candy to waiting children; it's like Halloween without the work. No dressing up in sweet outfits, walking to all sorts of doors and knocking trying to look oh so cute. No, on the 4th, you just stand there and they bring the candy to you! How cool is that? Really, too much fun. Thank you founding fathers for creating such a fabulous holiday!

I also found in interesting that in Oregon we have to watch streams of combines driving past us. Here, it was a 4x4 group and a bunch of mining equipment. In defense of the mining equipment, they were much cooler to watch then the combines.




I did manage to snap a photo of Lulu (on the right) and my niece watching from the sidelines. It's not much but I think it's sweet and I can share.

After this, we all just hung out at the neighbor's BBQ. It was a fun and mellow forth. Yea! Just what I needed after all the activity of the last few days.

Adoring Fans

Well, adoring fans, Maryann has posited some queries (is that too pompous?) and I thought I'd answer them.

"How are you in the frozen land?"

I am so happy. Who needs to sip a cool mint julep when you're basically sitting in one.

See this:

This is the weather all around me right now; whispy clouds floating in and out of forests and mountains, bits of rain from time to time but not a downpour.

Seriously fabulous. I can wear full length jeans and my sweatshirt and feel quite happy. Yea!

"Am I having fun?"

That depends on how you define fun. Do you think creating end of year financial statements and organizing lots of little numbers into sums for the accountant fun? Then, let me tell you I am up to my ears in all the fun I can handle. I will say that I have enjoyed my few recent days of little whining (thank you to Mia for babysitting) but I have actually been working (a novel concept), getting my kids, making dinner and then going back to work and then bed.

"Are the kiddos okay?"

The children are having a blast. This is Quinn's dream. Not once has he asked me, "Can we play at someone's house today?" Because he knows he's going to. Cousins, friends, Romans and countrymen - he's seen them all and played with them all and had so much fun. There are girls for Lulu and more video games than my boys can play in a day. H.E.A.V.E.N. Yup, my children are definitely happier here without me than at home with me. If I weren't such a confident woman (or on anti-depressants, whichever) I might take offense. But I'm above such things.

"Where is the new post?" (Okay, that was paraphrased.)

Here it is sistah! Here. it. is.

Okay, I think that covers it. If not, well, adoring fans, you didn't ask any further questions so I guess it will have to do and I encourage all you adoring fans to ask questions (I'll answer almost anything) because that requires you to comment and post something so that I can feel the love because really, I haven't been feeling it lately. 8)

Have I guilted you into commenting anything good? Have I? Have I? Huh? Huh? Huh? Don't you wish you just hit me right now? Dontcha? Dontcha? (laugh) Alright, I'm done.

Peace out.

Mea Culpa

Apparently it's been too long since I've lived in Alaska and too long since I've remembered my dad's old adage, "Never assume, it makes an ass out of u and me."

Well, remember this?

(I posted it oh so long ago.) Apparently, after talking to my father and being mocked by Mia, it is not a holding area for bears that have been captured (as I assumed!), it is in fact a place for hunters to bring in the bears they have killed. ADF&G measures the skulls and marks the hides and makes sure the hunters have tags for the animals. The hides are typically stinky and Fish and Game got tired to having the smell in their offices.

So much less exciting than my previous thoughts.

Ah, well, here's to false assumptions. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea GRAND clupa!!

(Mia, feel free to comment and mock.)

Day Three

Isn't this the most exciting travelog you've ever read? (No extra charge for the sarcasm.)

Yesterday was a mom and kid day. We played at this new park (new since I last visited in 2006). It was awesome.

I wish I were a kid and could play there! It would be nice to walk through the doorways without having to turn sideways. One of the tube slides had a little window in it so you could peek out at everything.

Another slide turned 720 degrees. So cool. (Yup, the one above.) I even slid down that one but I kept hearing voices of a small child and father at the end. I didn't want to slam my large adult female self into the tiny child body so I slid so slowly I got stuck and had to start scooting myself down the rest of the slide. What a lark!

My niece would climb somewhere or pose for a photo and then yell my name over and over again until I came to take her photo.

We went swimming at the public pool ($11?!?!). And then shopping (at Costco and Fred Meyer - Costco dogs yum!). We visited Mandy, my other SIL, and her kids and then went home.

The exciting part of the day? I know you're wondering. (And perhaps it will explain the non-excitingness of this post) The boys stayed up until midnight watching movies and then we woke up Lulu. We strolled to the edge of the harbor (maybe100 yards) and watched the city light off fireworks. Lulu and I sat in the cab of my dad's truck. I watched, trying to create some excitement in my daughter by exclaiming over the fireworks (Ooh! Aah! Hey that one sparkles! Look, that one looks like a heart! Wow, look at all those colors! Can you hear the thunder sounds?) but no dice. She pretty much slept through the whole thing and was more then happy to crawl back into her bed when we got back to the house. (You try to create memories and all they want to do is sleep. All I want to do is sleep, and they are hungry. Why can't the needs of parents and children mesh better? Ah, an eternal secret. I'm sure God is still wondering.)

The boys weren't even all that thrilled. They were so tired by this point (why fireworks at midnight? It's that whole bright-as-day-at-10-pm thing. Midnight is the earliest, darkest point of night and hey, apparently we're the first in the nation to celebrate the 4th.) and cold (they had crawled out of the pickup bed and into the cab with me) that they really just snuggled up next to me and would occasionally peek out at the fireworks. I was so tired when I trudged home with all three in tow that I don't think I even really tucked them into bed.

This morning, they were all up bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 7:30am. Help! I put on cartoons and tried to go back to sleep but the interruptions of "Mom!" were more frustrating that any alarm clock.

So here I sit, bleary eyed at 9am, dumping my camera and blogging and wondering why it is that Mormons don't drink coffee? Just a sip. Or two....*sigh* I'll wake up in a bit and then everything will be fine. Afterall, we have a parade to go to! Sights to see! Hot dogs to roast! Naps to take! I'm down with that last one.

Happy Fourth.