After all those serious posts the last few days about how January bites and the world is falling apart, I realized that those of you who just started visiting recently probably think I’m kind of a downer.  I’m lucky enough to know that most of the rest of you who have been around for a while know me a little better and can just roll your eyes and think:  She’ll be over it in a couple days.

So here’s a report about some things that are making me happy lately.

Last weekend, we went to St. George.  Matt took the kids and hung out with his dad, and I stayed by myself all day to write.  I’ve been working on a book for a while, but I really needed some alone time to catch up.  It was wonderful.  I learned so much and wrote a lot, and honestly felt the Spirit a lot.  It was a great dose of invigoration.

I’m sure a small part of my writing success was due to having these on hand:

Next: I like to give parties.  I am not a really good party giver because I never take the time to scan Pinterest or Google for ideas to make my parties all they could be.  I don’t really decorate or craft or do much of anything for parties because I kind of feel like great company is what makes a good party (plus I’m lazy).  I just like to create an excuse for people to get together and then I like to enjoy those people.  So for the last two years, I’ve planned some kind of girls’ night out for February (probably to recover from January).  These February girls’ nights seem to have a recurring theme.  Last year, a group of us went to see the play Persuasion at BYU. And eat of course.  The year before, I did something I loved in Minnesota called a J.A.M. party:  A Jane Austen Marathon.  It was so fun, and since I obviously don’t get sick of Jane Austen, I’m going to do it again this year.  So if you live near Happy Valley in Utah, or are willing to drive that direction, you’re officially invited to J.A.M. Party 2012.  Here is a geographical hint.  (I’m so cryptic.)

The party is not actually in this building, because, well, that would just be silly, but it gives you an approximate location.  It will be February 24th.  We will watch Persuasion, Sense & Sensibility, and Pride & Prejudice, all in a glorious row.  And eat of course.  Email me if you want more details (address is on the sidebar in the “Nice to meet you” paragraph).  Once I have used my superpowers to determine you are not a creep, I’ll give them to you (the details, not my actual superpowers).  So anyway, yay! I’m excited about that.

Moving on.  I have been loving the Ensign and general conference, but duh.  You already knew that about me.

You may have noticed that in the aforementioned overly-serious posts, I used the word “hard” a lot.  Today I  drove Natalie to gymnastics.  She was recently invited to be in a higher-level class which is, obviously, more difficult.  She’s only been a few times, and she has a little anxiety about it.  It’s not as easy and carefree as her little preschool gymnastics were, so she tried to convince me that she doesn’t like it.  The thing is, I know she does like it.  She does cartwheels, roundoffs, handsprings, etc. around my house endlessly.  She loves it when people watch her and tell her how great she is.  She’s just nervous about the new class.  So I started reassuring her in all the ways I knew how, trying to build her confidence.  I said, “Here’s one thing I know about you:  You can do hard things, and you are smart and strong.”  She held back a grin and stared out the window.  When we arrived at the gym, her nerves returned and she didn’t want to go in.  I helped her change into her leotard.  “No peeking,” I said, and then I grabbed a pen and took her hands.

While we walked into the gym, she kept looking at her hands and giggling.  I told her to look at her hands every time she felt nervous in her class.

Then I started thinking some more on the way home about the stuff I already wrote about.  And I started giving myself my own lecture.  “I can do hard things, too.”  I remembered that Sister Dalton talked about that once, so I looked it up and found it.

Last general conference, I was called by President Monson to be the new Young Women general president. As I stood in the presence of a prophet of God and was given this sacred trust, I pledged that I would serve with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. Prior to this calling, I had a small plate inscribed with a motto that read, “I can do hard things.” That little plate bearing that simple motto gave me courage. But now if I could change that motto, it would read: “In the strength of the Lord, I can do all things.” 

And then I did something that will amaze you.  I made a printable. Or quote, or whatever.  I don’t know the real terms.  I only have the skill to make things out of Microsoft Word and Google Images, so if any of you have some old version of Photoshop you want to give away for Valentines Day, you know who to call.  Anyway, here it is:

(I was thinking about that one quote about not crashing your heart on the rocks of grief.)  So now that quote is making me happy, too.

Last item on the joy report:  I’m going to the temple tonight.  All those people I’m worried about are going right on the prayer roll, and Heavenly Father is going to take care of them.

How about you?  What’s making you happy these days?

I went to lunch several months ago with some friends.  During a side conversation, one friend said to me, “That’s the worst part about growing up: learning about everyone’s problems.”  I don’t even really remember the context of our discussion, but her comment has stuck with me.  It’s so true.  As a child, we have a very limited view of the world at large, and most of my memories are happy and carefree.  As we grow older and our view of the world around us expands, we are exposed to more and more pain, suffering, and sadness– sometimes our own, but often in the lives of others too.

Over the last several weeks, Matt and I have been struggling with watching people we know and love go through some really hard things.  Not just one or two friends, but several.  There are marriage troubles, there are health issues, there are fears and anxieties.  It has made us heavy-hearted, and frankly, a little discouraged.  We want to fix things and we just can’t.  We want to help, but feel so helpless.  It kind of makes us want to hide from the whole scary world so we don’t fall into the same pits, but where and how?  We start to wonder if everyone else on the planet has some deep, dark secret pain going on, and maybe we’re the only people who have “normal” trials, like bad days at work or budget woes or struggling to keep up with the demands of busy lives.  (Does anyone else feel like that sometimes?)  It of course puts your own trials into startling perspective, but it leaves you feeling a vicarious pain for what everyone else seems to be going through.  And even though your own life is relatively “easy,” it’s not easy to watch the pain that’s happening around you.  It hurts.

I’ve noticed it’s difficult to brush those feelings aside and deal with the matters at hand, like helping children with homework or finding socks or making dinner.  They have no idea about the hard things going on in the lives of friends and family.  You certainly don’t want to make it their burden either, but it’s hard to put on a happy face and go on like nothing’s wrong.  This morning, after I got the boys off to school, I tried to get Natalie occupied with her own activities so that I could just crawl back into bed and think.  Rest.  Decompress.  She kept coming into my room every 5 minutes to ask for help with milk or TV buttons or questions.  I was losing patience quickly.  It’s really hard to heal and mother at the same time.  I wasn’t very kind.

I don’t have any real answers to this.  I’m still working through it, but I wanted to share some of the things I’ve been thinking about and learning about in the meantime.  Yesterday, I had a rare opportunity to be in the car by myself in between some carpooling drop-offs and pick-ups.  I wanted something to listen to in the car that would help me focus my thoughts, and I remembered that I had an old general conference CD set somewhere.  I scanned the bookshelf in the office, found it, and grabbed it.  I really wish I had some kind of system in my car where I could just hook up my iPod and listen to whatever I want whenever I want, but I don’t.  And it seems really dumb to invest in that kind of stereo equipment when my van is pushing 160K miles.  Anyway, I had general conference CDs from 1998, and I popped them in and listened while I drove.

This morning I had to go to the dentist, and the CD was still in when I turned on the car.  I heard the end of one talk that was nice.  They had all been nice, but nothing had jumped out at me so far.  Then I heard this talk:  “Overcoming Discouragement” by Elder Val R. Christensen.  Here are some of the things that I learned:

Many of us face significant challenges. Even the great prophet Enoch experienced sadness when he viewed the wickedness of the world: “And as Enoch saw this, he had bitterness of soul, and wept over his brethren, and said unto the heavens: I will refuse to be comforted; but the Lord said unto Enoch: Lift up your heart, and be glad; and look” (Moses 7:44).

Even before he started explaining his three points, I knew that there was truth in them.  I felt the Spirit– enlightenment and hope.

By looking at a problem in a different way, it may be possible to reduce discouragement. I have been impressed with the pioneer story told about Zina Young. After experiencing the death of parents, crop failure, and sickness, she was encouraged with a spiritual experience that changed her attitude. While attempting to seek divine help, she heard her mother’s voice: “Zina, any sailor can steer on a smooth sea, when rocks appear, sail around them.” A prayer came quickly: “O Father in heaven, help me to be a good sailor, that my heart shall not break on the rocks of grief” (“Mother,” The Young Woman’s Journal, Jan. 1911, 45). It is often difficult to change circumstances, but a positive attitude can help lift discouragement.

One morning, several days ago, I got some bad news from one of my friends I’ve been worried about.  I lay in bed in the quiet early hours of the morning and my heart just hurt.  I could feel a real, tangible sadness.  While I thought about that pain, I was reminded of something I’ve taught many times before in a lesson about the Atonement.

“I believe, to use an insurance phrase, we must pay the deductible. We must experience sorrow enough, suffering enough, guilt enough so we are conscious and appreciative of the heavier burden borne by the Savior.” (Elder J. Richard Clarke, in Conference Report April 1993, 10)

In that moment, I kind of got it.  What I was feeling was just the tiniest piece of what the Savior felt when He took upon himself the pains of the world.  It was pain from sin, but also every kind of sorrow.  It is His pain.  Not mine.  Not hers.  It’s His.  He bought it with a price and I need to give it back to Him. I don’t need to keep it.  So, I determined then that all I can do is hand the burden back and then pay close attention to what He wants me to do.  He can show me how to help and how to move on.  So in the several days since, whenever I’ve felt the weight of sadness, I try to replay this same scenario in my mind and let it go.  Here’s another snippet from Elder Christensen’s talk:

I’ve talked about changing attitudes and receiving help from others. Now, let me mention the need to put more trust and faith in the Lord. I once talked to a woman who received help with her discouragement. While waiting for a temple session to begin, she picked up a Book of Mormon to read a verse. Her eyes fixed upon Alma 34:3: “And as ye have desired of my beloved brother that he should make known unto you what ye should do, because of your afflictions; and he hath spoken somewhat unto you to prepare your minds; yea, and he hath exhorted you unto faith and to patience.” The scripture in Alma was an answer to her prayer. The message was simple: the problem she faced was going to take a long time to solve. If we place a little more patience in the process and a greater amount of faith in the Lord, our challenges will find their way toward successful conclusions.

In the Doctrine and Covenants we read this: “If thou art sorrowful, call on the Lord thy God with supplication, that your souls may be joyful” (D&C 136:29).

Some of these things will take time to work themselves out.  I have faith that some of them really will work out just fine, but it may take a while.  There may be long periods of down before the up figures itself out.  So that’s what I’m working on right now: finding joy and optimism despite sad things happening around me.  When the talk was over, I turned to Natalie in the back seat and said, “Natalie, I’m sorry I wasn’t very nice to you this morning when I was in bed.  I was frustrated because I just wanted some rest, but I still should have been kind.  I’m sorry.”  She, being the epitome of childlike forgiveness, simply smiled and asked what was for lunch.

Anyway, I’m sorry if this post doesn’t have a cute little conclusion that makes it all better. I’m still working on it, but I wanted to share what I’ve learned so far, and hopefully it can be helpful to someone who’s dealing with or feeling some of the same things.

I probably owe you an apology. I do not like January. This stems in part from my deep-seeded disdain for cold weather.

I love Christmas time. But when it’s over, it’s all downhill for a little while.

I’m sorry this means there must be a significant decline in presents, vacation days, and festivities in general.
I’m sorry this means we have to return to routines like chores and homework and early bedtimes.
I’m sorry this means the period of un-rationed goodies is over (unless you’re me).

Another reason I don’t like January is we always get sick in January. Right now I can only breathe out of one nostril. During this past week alone, our house has been graced with coughing, fever, vomit, diarrhea, croup, congestion, and oh, another urinary tract infection.

Dirty dishes and dirty laundry piles sit a little longer in January. You may want to get used to me saying things like, “Who wants to make macaroni and cheese for dinner tonight?”

While some moms see January as an opportunity to rekindle their love affair with the gym, your mom sees January as an opportunity to eat Toaster Strudels and Reese’s peanut butter cups for lunch.

I just want to reassure you that I still love you. I wish I had any desire to play Princess Chutes and Ladders with you, but I don’t. I’m afraid that January is the one month out of the year that if you want to spend quality time with your mother, you probably need to start reading Pride & Prejudice, or take a sudden interest in Latin music, or save up your allowance for a trip to Europe or a warm location of your choice (or even better, my choice.).

I have no idea why you were so lucky to be born into my care, but I promise I’ll try harder to wade my way through January and be the kind of mom you deserve.  Remember that I’m a pretty rockin’ mom in the summertime.

Feel free to print out this picture and tape it on a Popsicle stick and wave it in my face as needed.

When you do, I will try really hard to count to ten in my brain and get over it.

Much love,

Your mother

P.S. Your dad is a rock star in January because he steps it up a lot, and he’s not nearly as irritable as I am.  I love him all year, but especially in January.

P.P.S.  I’m really not as pathetic as this letter makes me sound.  I do plenty of good stuff in January too.  Let’s just say that the ratio of good stuff is a little more sparse than usual, and I’m keenly aware of it.

P.P.P.S.  Would it be presumptuous of me to alter President Monson’s quote to say “Courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, ‘I’ll try again tomorrow [next month]‘”?

It feels a little indulgent, but several of you have asked about the notes from the fireside I taught last night, so I’ll work on a blog post in the next few days (after I breathe).  I saw one young woman recording the whole thing on her iPhone, so I wish I would have just asked her for a copy of it, but oh well.  Despite the nerves and the self-induced pressure to just get it right, I felt like it went well.  I’m satisfied when I can walk away from a teaching opportunity and say, “Well, that’s the very best I could do.”  You just hope it’s enough.  For those of you who expressed curiosity, this is what I wore.  (I know it was silly of me to post about that, and I really knew the right answer — which you were all so kind to share–, but you have to admit you’d feel the same way if you were going to stand up in front of a group of people as some kind of “beauty” expert.  Ha!  Even typing that made me laugh.)  Anyway, voila:

I know, I know.  “[Insert name of real beauty expert* here.], eat your heart out.”

*I couldn’t think of one since I’m so in touch with the fashion world and all.

In the meantime, if any of you are dying to study some great reference material about beauty, modesty, self-image and virtue, here’s a link to a list of things I studied in preparation for the talk.  There’s a lot of great direction available to us.  It made me realize that our leaders have given us a lot of clear direction, so it’s surprising that there’s still so much confusion.  I guess Satan does a good job of scrambling signals.

In other news, after several failed attempts to communicate to Clark my complete dissatisfaction with finding his recently-washed clothing back in his dirty clothes basket instead of put away, I finally decided to take a more practical approach.  I informed him on Sunday that he is now in charge of the laundry for a while.  I’ve spent the last couple of days teaching him the system.  They’ve always sorted their dirty clothes and put away their clean clothes (in theory), but I decided to let him actually wash them all, switch loads, dry them all, fold them all, etc.  This photo I took tonight shows you how happy he is about the new arrangement:

Well, that’s about it.  I’ll finish up with one of my favorite quotes I found while preparing for the fireside (thank you to my friend Velda for making it look pretty for me):

So, while I keep scrambling around today trying to get last-minute preparations done (get off the computer already, Stephanie!), I keep having this nagging question in the back of mind mind . . .

What exactly does someone WEAR to teach a class about beauty??!  I mean, you want to have some credibility, but you don’t want to overdo it and negate your whole message.  I’ve never met any of the people I’ll be teaching and they’ve never met me.  I’ve kidded myself in my mind about how they’ll probably expect me to pull up in a Mary Kay pink Cadillac or something and will be sorely disappointed when I roll in in a 10-year-old van with 158K miles on it and last week’s lunch leftovers in the back seat.

Maybe I should just wear sweats and a pony tail so they’ll all feel better about themselves.

Update: Please don’t look at any ads beyond this point.  I have no say in the ads that wordpress generates for my post, and I’ve been told some are inappropriate.

It’s possible that I’m the only one who has recurring “Bad Mom Days.”

But I doubt it.

Goals are wonderful things, but they don’t always pan out like we intend them to.  (That’s code for: Sometimes we downright fail.)  I don’t know if you’ve seen President Monson’s New Year’s message or not, but one paragraph at the end of it has been rolling around in my mind a lot this week.  It’s a great reminder that new years are great, but new days are even better, and trying again and again and again is what keeps us on the right track.

Courage is required to make an initial thrust toward one’s coveted goal, but even greater courage is called for when one stumbles and must make a second effort to achieve.

Have the determination to make the effort, the single-mindedness to work toward a worthy goal, and the courage not only to face the challenges that inevitably come but also to make a second effort, should such be required. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

That little voice is a true friend because it points us toward the Atonement, repentance, forgiveness, and starting over.

So imagine me riding on my horse on the battlefield of motherhood waving my banner and shouting to all the mother masses, “Courage!”  (That just means get up again tomorrow and try again.  You’re doing better all the time.)  Or I guess all that imagination really isn’t necessary if you just listen to the prophet instead.  Yep, probably better to do that. Because me on a horse is kind of a stupid idea.

I might get a banner anyway.

If anyone has a link to President Monson’s talk (It’s called “Living the Abundant Life”), feel free to paste it in the comments so others can read it.  It’s a good one.  My dad sent me a copy by email, but I haven’t found it online yet.

I hardly blogged at all over the last couple of weeks because I was just enjoying the down time of the holidays.  It really was down time– lots of laziness and mellow family “recreation.”  So nice.  But there are a handful of things that I would have blogged about if I felt like blogging, and I need to just unload them all… you know, get it out of my system.  So without further ado, a pile of miniature blog-posts:

1. I gave my blog a makeover.  I felt like I needed to just simplify it and downplay all the diaper and baby imagery.  I have a complex because my blog title is Diapers and Divinity, and with the exception of one child in nighttime pull-ups, I’m actually now beyond the diaper stage.  I still like the title because the blog is still about the balance between the dirty side of motherhood and the divine side, but anyway, I’m letting the diapers go.  I feel old.  And free.  Ha!
2. I also gave my hair a makeover.  I had like 6-inch roots, so thanks to a gift-certificate from my mother-in-law, I went and got it cut and highlighted.  I’m growing it out longer again, at least until summertime.  We’ll see.
3. I took the kids and we went and got our portraits done as a Christmas gift for Matt.  I was overdue getting them done anyway, so it seemed like a good idea.  I don’t want to make you jealous or anything, but I’m afraid my children are just handsomer than all the rest in the world.  So sorry.
4. Despite their handsomeness, they leave on lights EVERYwhere.  Matt is thinking about changing out all their light switches for those timer knobs that they sometimes use in hotel bathrooms for heat lamps.  Would that be weird?
5. Natalie calls her pinky finger her “girl finger.”  She says all the rest are boys.  ??
6. I gave a talk in church yesterday.  I think it went okay, but I forgot half the papers I was going to use and I still took too much time.  I get a little mad at myself for having zero grasp on the gift of brevity.  I did, however, really enjoy preparing and studying for the talk.  I wish I did a better job of studying the gospel that thoroughly even when I don’t have an assignment.
7. I made a simple new years resolution.  I’ll just cut and paste from Facebook since I’m lazy:  “My New Year’s resolution this year: *Be Nicer*. Seriously. The stuff that bugs me is probably not going to go away, so I just need to get over it and be nicer. (Bite tongue, curb sarcasm, manage anger.) Funny, my mom used to always tell me “Stephanie, be nice,” and I would roll my eyes at her. Now, I’m pushing 40, and I think I’m finally starting to get it.”
8. Along those same lines, for Family Home Evening last night, we came up with a family goal/motto for this year.  After discussing being nice to each other, showing respect, no yelling/arguing, etc., we adopted this line from the primary song “I’m trying to be like Jesus”:  “Try To Show Kindness in All That You Do.”  Anybody want to make me some cool graphic-designy thing that I can hang up on my wall?  Anyway, we’re going to work on that.
9. I’ve been invited to speak at a fireside in a couple weeks in a random ward where I don’t know anyone.  The bishop would like me to speak to the young women and the women about modesty.  I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I feel like I know the general direction I’d like to go, but if anyone has any great thoughts or talks/articles to pass along, please do.
10. This year I got down of my high horse a little bit and actually consented to let Santa bring my children a Wii for Christmas.  It was the only gift he brought for all three.  I have always been sort of an anti-video-game poster-mom, but lots of points won me over for some reason.  It was a bit of a gaming free-for-all over Christmas break, but today it was back to school, back to rules, back to chores, etc.  We’ve always had a system in place where they have to finish their chores before school if they want 30 min. of media time after school.  I have to say that having the Wii sitting in our family room made them pretty anxious to get their chores done this morning.  I honestly don’t mind all the active games like sports and singing/dancing, etc., so hopefully it will all be okay as long as I stick to my guns about time limits and what’s appropriate and what’s not.
11. We also played some fun new games over the break.  The kids got Apples to Apples Jr., and they really like that.  We got a card game called Clue Suspect, and I’m pretty much unbeatable.    We played a fun game called Telestrations with extended family, and we still need to try out a game Clark got in his stocking called Sorry Revenge.  I did splurge right before Christmas and bought a game table I’ve had my eye on for the last year at a local consignment store.  Despite temporarily suffering buyer’s remorse (even though it was cheap), it’s been fun to have.
12. Here’s the one problem with a Kindle.  You start a book and you don’t have a good sense of how long it really is.  I started The Count of Monte Cristo a week or so ago, and I have been reading and reading and reading, and my little progress tab only showed me at about 33% done.  I really liked that first third of the book, but after reading and reading some more (like almost all the way to 50%) and starting to like it a little less, I began to wonder.  Well, I looked it up on amazon to see how long the real book is, and it turns out that the unabridged version I’m reading is (depending on the publication) between 1200-1600 pages long!  Sweet mercy.  So according to my calculations, I’ve probably read about 700 pages so far.  Someone please tell me it’s worth it to finish it, because right now I’m feeling like I’m in quicksand– in too deep to get out.  And since I’ve spent all that time invested in reading it, it’s like I have to finish it just on principle alone.
13. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year, I really do.  Post-vacation transition is hard and a little depressing, so let’s make the best of it, shall we?

Dump complete.  Carry on.

However.

This is an actual conversation I had with a 16-year old employee at the drive-thru window of a local fast-food restaurant.

“You can order whenever you’re ready.”

“Hi. Yes, I’d like one twist ice cream cone, but do you have one that’s smaller than the large?”

“We have a small.”

“Oh, okay.  I’d like a small please.”

“Is that it?”

“Yep.  That’s all.”

“Okay, your total will be $1.92 please.”

“Um, does the small cone cost more than the large cone?”

“No, they’re the same price.”

“Well, the big banner out front says the large cone is $1.00.”

“Right.  The large is $1.00 on special, and the small is $1.00.”

“But you said my total was $1.92.”

“No, I said ‘$1.00. Lane 2 please.’”

“Oooh. (nervous laugh) Sorry, I guess I misunderstood you.”

A few minutes later, the girl came wandering back to my place in line and took my dollar and gave me the ice cream cone.

As I drove away, I realized I never did go get in Lane 2.

I hope Grant appreciated that stupid ice cream cone.

And I really hope that I’m smart again when I get resurrected.

I am not now nor have I ever been obsessed with weight.  I’ve always been an advocate of Elder Holland’s advice to “please be more accepting of yourselves, including your body shape and style, with a little less longing to look like someone else.”  I am not the least bit motivated by Hollywood harlots starlets because they are not even real people.  (At least the almost always fabricated versions of them that are shoved in our faces.)

However.

Since I moved to Utah, for reasons I cannot for the life of me figure out, I all of the sudden gained 20 pounds. (Yes, I’ve had my thyroid checked and there have been no other changes in my normal health or any medications or anything like that.  I’m practically a psychic in anticipating your questions.)  I swear it’s Utah’s fault, but since I can’t really beat up Utah, I’ve got to figure out what to do about it.  It has nothing to do with wanting to compete with all the people around me who live for yoga, decorate their cars with 26.2 and Ragnar stickers, and shop for their jeans in the single-digit-number section.  I mean, despite the fact that they are probably part-alien and I kind of want to hate them, I’ve been surprised that many of them are actually really nice people.  Dangit.  So it’s not about that.  It’s just about wanting to be the normal kind of me and not a foreign-body version of myself.  Oh, and because I really want the clothes I already own to FIT me.  Is that really too much to ask??  Really?  Well, apparently it is.  I will now proceed to list the 101 reasons I should have lost at least 10 pounds by now.

1. I have exercised at least 30 minutes a day for five days a week since school started NINE weeks ago.  I have never had that kind of discipline since my college days.
2. I even started jogging a little bit a couple weeks ago.  As I stated in my Facebook status:  Cue the apocalypse.
3. I created an account at myfitnesspal.com and I have tracked pretty regularly my calorie intake and exercise to try to keep it toward a healthy daily total of net calories.
4. I switched to skim milk. That alone deserves at least a pound or two.
5. When I’ve met up with friends for lunch or dinner, I try to order smaller and smarter.
6. I’ve tried to make better choices for cooking dinner.
7. Once a week, I do one-on-one dates with each of my kids and it’s usually to a cute little bakery or something.  For a while now, I’ve only ordered something for them, and I’ve just had a bite, or ordered nothing for myself, or like TODAY, my son got a sugar cookie and I ordered a half Spinach salad.
8. During the entire week of Halloween, I only ate 6 of those little mini candies.  Okay, and one caramel apple (maybe two).  But let me tell you, that took some major restraint when sugar stuff is EVERYwhere.
9. I started ordering green smoothies when I crave buying something sweet.  Did you get that?  Green-freakin’-smoothies.
10. The Great Pumpkin came to our house on Halloween night.  Our kids picked out their 10 favorite pieces of candy, put the rest in a bucket in the back yard, and during the night the Great Pumpkin came and swept it away, leaving a small toy in its place.  ALL the candy gone from our house.  To clarify, the Great Pumpkin did not eat ANY of it.
11. I have exercised rigorously enough in the last 9 weeks that at least a few days a week, I have sore muscles.
12. Yesterday I went to an exercise class called “Boot Camp.”  I cannot, I repeat–cannot, do push ups, yet this woman made us do like 2,000 of them. And leg lifts that made my abs catch fire.  I can handle all the jumping jacks and fast running in place and such, but any exercises that actually require any muscle strength are a joke.  Last night I could not roll over in bed without pain.
13. When I crave snacks during the day, I’m trying to eat stuff like a handful of nuts, some carrot sticks, Greek yogurt (I think it’s nasty), or whole-wheat toast.
14. I almost never drink soda, diet or otherwise.  Maybe once a month I’ll have a root beer.  I always drink water and occasionally milk.  I should drink more water than I do, but I’m trying to do better.  (Actually, in the spirit of full disclosure, in the last week when it turned cold, I did have a couple hot chocolates.)
15. Except for that one time at The Melting Pot like 10 years ago, when they dumped half a glass of white wine in my cheese fondue, I’ve never even tasted alcohol in my life.
16. That’s not really 101 reasons, but whatever.

Anyway, I’m pleased really, really ticked off to announce that after almost 3 months of this kind of regimen, I have actually gained almost 4 pounds.  Don’t try to be all “Oh, that’s totally because you’ve gained muscle,” because if that’s true then why are all my clothes just as tight as they were when I started?  So basically this post is just me saying that I’m mad at the universe and I’ve been robbed.

I know you’re dying to give me advice like go Vegan, eliminate carbs, train for a marathon, drink protein shakes, put all your food in a blender with ingredients you can’t buy at normal stores or whatever.  Just to keep it real, though, I probably will not listen to you unless you are actually a nutritionist, personal trainer, or certified seer. Because, trust me, the kind of effort I’ve put in should have brought about some kind of difference.  So I’m pretty skeptical right now.

I’m not going to quit, mostly because I’m stubborn.  I just needed to vent. I just got off the phone with my sister, and I told her I’ll probably feel humiliated after I push the “Publish” button.  So be it.  This is the part where you say stuff that’s either encouraging or empathetic.  Otherwise, I remind you that I am a grumpy woman who is denying herself chocolate at the moment, and I hold the power to the delete button.

I am acutely aware that on the blessings vs. trials continuum, I am still riding very high.  My life is abundant, and I don’t face the thousands of horrible thing that many others are suffering.  I’m still giving myself permission to be bugged, though.

Ahem.  Have a nice day.

1. I stay up too late at night.  It hurts the next day, but I love the quiet time after the kids are in bed. No matter how disciplined I try to convince myself to be, I never go to bed early.
2. Getting children out the door for school in the morning is really like herding cats, only more slow-motion.  Maybe everyone needs an earlier bedtime.
3. I do not want winter to come. Curses to cold weather.
4. Natalie and I watch Cupcake Wars together.  Yesterday she told me her strategy for making a cupcake for a particular challenge:  mixing seaweed with cotton candy flavoring and pulling sugar to make a box car to put on top.  She’s 4.  I’ll start saving now for culinary school.
5. Speaking of saving, I have a lot of great ideas for Christmas gifts this year.  Unfortunately, I have no money to buy any of them.  That whole thing about “it’s the thought that counts” is totally bogus.
6. Yesterday was my mother’s birthday.  My mom is a wonderful woman.  You should meet her because everyone who does automatically has a better chance of getting into heaven.  Happy Birthday, mom.  I love you.
7. I did something yesterday that I don’t remember ever doing before in my life– JOG for 40 minutes.  It wasn’t pretty, and I think I walk faster than I jog.  Cue the apocalypse.
8. I need to drink more water.  Like going to bed early, I’ve been telling myself to do it for years.  But I don’t.  I’m surprised all my innards haven’t shriveled up by now.
9. I really like the Preach My Gospel manual.  I’ve been studying it for an ongoing Relief Society activity/class I teach, and it’s been a great way to fuel my scripture study.
10. I decided I’m going to start re-memorizing all the scripture mastery scriptures.  Between this website and a scripture mastery app for my phone, it’s pretty easy.  I’ve only done 1 Nephi 3:7 and 1 Nephi 19:23 so far, plus 2 Nephi 2:25 and D&C 10:5 with my kids, but I’m feeling it.
11. Does anyone have a perfect bread machine recipe for whole wheat bread?  My sister sent me one, but I’ve ruined it twice.  It’s me, not her.  Recipes for Dummies are recommended.
12. Tuesdays are my crank-out-the-laundry days, which means I get to watch lots of TV while I fold and sort clothes.  I’m pretty much all caught up on my shows now, which currently include The Biggest Loser, The Sing-off, Cupcake wars, Sweet Genius, Top Chef: Just Desserts and Chopped.  Um, all but one are food shows, mainly desserts.  Do you think they cancel out a 40-minute jog?  Great.
13. I’m in charge of Grant’s Halloween class party, but I delegated out the entire thing, and all I have to do is show up.  That rocks.  I really did try to help out, but all the volunteers were so dang ambitious, and hey, more power to ‘em.

Dump complete.

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It’s no surprise to anyone who has visited this blog before that I love General Conference.  I know many of you do, too.  To any readers who might not be familiar with General Conference or the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, go here or here to learn more about both.  Today I wanted to share a few ideas of how we can help our children appreciate and look forward to General Conference.

1. Start now to express your excitement for conference.  Today, on two different occasions in the car, I said, “Only 5 more days until General Conference.  I’m so excited!”  Use the opportunity to bear brief testimony of living prophets and how their messages have made a difference in your life.
2. As you say family and meal prayers, remind your children to pray for the prophet and apostles as they prepare for their conference talks.  We can ask Heavenly Father to help them be inspired as they speak and to help us be inspired as we listen.
3. Teach a family home evening (or random, informal lesson) this week about following the prophet or some other aspect of General Conference preparation.  Tonight, my 8-year-old, Grant, is teaching our lesson based on Elder Holland’s recent conference talk:  An Ensign to the Nations.  I imagine he’ll find some quotes he likes, share them, and bear testimony.  Then he’s going to assign each person to look through the conference Ensign and try to find talks about certain topics.  I’m hoping I can contribute to the conversation and FHE in a way that makes it feel a little bit like a “General Conference pep rally.”  But I’m geeky like that.  Feel free to temper it to fit your own personality. 
4. Schedule the days of conference to block out plenty of time to watch the sessions.  Keep your calendar clear and relish the family time.  It’s helpful to me to have my menu all planned out for those two days so that I have all the necessary ingredients on hand and pre-prepared as much as possible.  I like to have a picnic lunch packed ahead of time (especially when I was in central time zone and conference fell right in the middle of lunch time), as well as ziploc bags or cups full of snack items that I can quickly grab and distribute.
5. I like to go through lots of links with General Conference and other gospel-related resources, print out piles and piles of coloring sheets and puzzles and mazes and fill-in-the-blank worksheets and bingo cards, and then create a little notebook or binder for each of my children. Sometimes I’ve made a big binder and let them just read through it and do the activities at their leisure, and other times I’ve replenished it with new items for each session.  At the bottom of this post, I’ve listed lots of sites with pre-made general conference packets for children, as well as other supplemental materials.  If you know of any other great resources, please share a link in the comments below.
6. Create during-conference activities that help and encourage children to pay attention.  They can color each speaker’s tie.  They can put stickers on the chart of general authorities when they see them speak. (The photo chart is in the centerfold of the conference edition of the Ensign.) They can play a bingo game where they put stickers or small snacks on the board each time they hear a gospel-word that is on their card.  (Scan through those links below and you’ll find several versions of bingo cards, with words or pictures.) You can set a few “keywords” for each session– like “temple,” “prophet,” and “atonement” — and each time they hear that word, they can grab a treat from a treat bowl.  You can change it up each session, both the words and the snacks.  A lot of these ideas can be found pre-made in the links below, so don’t feel like you have to come up with it all on your own.

A word to the wise:  Don’t feel overwhelmed or obligated by this long list of ideas.  These are things I’ve added to our traditions little-by-little over time, and it’s been fun for me and my family.  Just do something that sounds fun and doable to you and fits your family.  Any one suggestion can help make the experience a little more meaningful.  Remember also that you need to sit and listen to conference as much as you can.  This is hard to do if you’ve become the “cruise director” for the day and spend all your time handing out snacks and crayons. Prepare what you can ahead of time, give the children some things that can keep them busy and involved, and then sit back and listen as much as you possibly can.  To prove to you that I am human in this area, I give you my Facebook status from yesterday:

I recorded the general Relief Society broadcast last night and I tried to watch it today. I had to hit pause in the middle of the talk about Charity to go upstairs and yell at my children. I know, I have some work to do.

If you have any questions or comments to add about preparing children for general conference, speak up in the comment thread below.  I’d be happy to respond with more specifics.

Helpful links:

General Conference packets for all ages– several versions

More General Conference activities– lots and LOTS of links

Article: “Preparing Our Children for General Conference,” March 2009 Ensign

Article: “Conference: It’s for the Whole Family,” March 1985 Ensign

Some files and packets from past conferences that you’re welcome to download:

General Conference Packets

Conference Packets

GCColoringBookprintcopyApril2010

GCColoringBookApril2010

2010 180th General Conference Senior Children Packet

youthbook5April2010

bingo_boards

bingo_cards

2009-october-general-conference-primary-activity-packet

general conference notebook

About 2 weeks ago I was kind of dreading the end of summer because I think I’ll miss the lazy schedule.  However, in an unexpected case of divine intervention, God turned my children in to little demons this week to restore my hope in and love for the back-to-school season.  He always watches out for me like that. No, really, he does.

Speaking of back to school, this year I will have 3 children in three different schools, none of which will have a bus.  Shoot me now.  Either that, or send me a personal assistant.  Natalie’s just in preschool, but it’s still another pick-up and drop-off to juggle.  Jocelyn wrote a great post asking her readers for advice on sending her oldest to kindergarten.  I thought to myself, Hey, I should do that.  I have smart readers.  And I need back-to-school advice.

So help me out.  Besides from the obvious step of trying to work out some kind of life-saving carpool schedule, what other advice do you have for me as I enter the new world of juggling 3 children, 3 schools, 3 schedules, 3 calendars, 3 sets of homework, 3 lunches, etc. (not to mention extracurriculars which I still have not registered for out of deep fear)?  Even just typing that all out made me feel like I need chocolate.

Oh, and as long as I’m throwing out my troubles for you to fix, does anyone have any suggestions (other than the obvious ones like solitary confinement and waterboarding*) for sass and backtalking?  I swear we’ve had at least a dozen family home evening lessons on this topic, but from where I’m standing (refer back to paragraph #1), I don’t see much progress.  Besides not getting the kind of respect I deserve/demand, it worries me that the quick contrary responses I’ve been getting might trickle over into other relationships with teachers or other adults.  The idea of raising children that are not the epitome of proper respect makes me feel quite unsettled.

So come on you geniuses, make it all better. 

p.s.  If you are ever looking for a fun show for your elementary-aged boys (probably girls, too), mine have been LOVING watching this on Netflix.  I have to admit it’s laugh-out-loud funny.  One disclaimer: in episode #8, the sheep got a glimpse of the farmer’s claymation rear end and were scarred for life.  Even though I probably would not have let them watch that episode if I knew what was coming, boy did my boys laugh hard, and they lay awake in their beds last night laughing about it long after bedtime.

(*For the newer subscribers who are not yet familiar with my blog voice, I am kidding.  I would not under any circumstances use waterboarding, unless it were a matter of family security or I didn’t get enough sleep the night before.  Happy to clarify.)

Do you know what one of my least favorite pieces of “advice” is when I complain about something I’m struggling with (because I am a horrible person and I do complain)?  It’s this juicy morsel:  “Just wait.  One day they’ll be grown and gone, and you’ll miss it.”

That’s a bunch of hogwash.  (a.k.a. Baloney.)

I happen to believe that parenting is a little like cancer, not only because it slowly kills you (I’m kidding. Kind of.), but because it comes in stages.  (On the bright side, anyone who has had cancer or any other life-changing trial will testify that it is a refining fire and brings them closer to God.  Also, I haven’t really thought this analogy all the way through, so take it with a grain of salt.) Stage 1 is a very physically demanding stage– it’s the baby and toddler years where everything you do is awash in a haze of diapers and sleepless nights and picking up toys and doing laundry. You wonder if your body and mind will ever return.  I’d say there’s about a 50% chance of full recovery.

Stage 2– where I am now– is when your children finally break free from total dependence and start to exert a tiny bit of functional intelligence.  It means you can step outside and talk to your neighbor on the driveway for 5 minutes and leave your children unsupervised (with an obvious level of assumed risk).  It means you can give out chores and instructions and expect that they can be done.  Unfortunately, this functional intelligence does not come with a social compass or any real common sense, so you spend most of your day listening to your children argue with each other about absolutely meaningless things or constantly talk about poop, farts, or how hilarious it would be if so-and-so tripped and fell in the toilet, etc.  As far as I can tell, this is the mentally exhausting phase because, for the most part, you are required to have conversations throughout the day that make your brain want to explode if you haven’t already self-combusted due to a completely depleted reserve of patience.  You also find yourself repeating the same requests and family rules over and over and over and over and over again and wondering if your children’s brains will ever work rationally.  Again, I’d say there’s about a 50% chance.

Stage 3.  The teenage years. I haven’t been there yet, but I’ve spent a lot of my years working with youth either professionally (as a teacher) or in church callings.  All I can say about this stage is that it seems like it will probably be the most emotionally challenging one.  There will be much to worry about as you watch your children grow and make decisions of their own– often wrong decisions.  You will be in the line of fire of their own hormonal and emotional roller coaster.  There are clearly some things to look forward to (like *maybe* kind of real conversations and camaraderie), but let’s not be naive– it will be challenging.

Stage 4.  This is the stage that Matt and I fantasize about the most– the one where they go off to college or on missions and we only have our very own messes to clean up at home.  I obviously have no real experience with this stage either and I know that like every other stage, it is fraught with challenges.  Adult children still make lots of dumb decisions and come face to face with a cruel world, and you probably struggle with how much to help and how much to let them struggle.  I imagine it is a stage of worry and anxiety with respect to your children, and perhaps a little longing to be more a part of their lives.

However, I promise that when I am in stage 4 parenting, I will not miss stage 1 and 2 parenting.  Will I miss my children and the joys that were a part of that stage?  Absolutely.  I will sometimes crave the sweet little newborn head that fits just right in the crook of my neck.  I’ll miss the eyes that stare up at me with unending trust and love while the baby nurses.  I’ll miss the giggling, the tickling, the hugs and kisses, the holding hands.  Oh, the holding hands.  It’s one of my favorite things– how they reach up for your hand instinctively as you walk them to preschool or through the Costco parking lot, how they choose to be connected to you.  I’ll miss looking over and seeing them sitting on the couch with their arms around each other reading a book together.  In short, there are plenty of things I’ll miss.

But I won’t miss what I’m complaining about in each stage.  I can’t imagine myself in my golden years reaching for the TV remote and wishing that someone had hidden it under the couch cushions.  I won’t walk into a room to find it exactly the way I left it and then wish that there were Legos and wrappers from sneaked food on the floor.  I won’t do a project from start to finish and wish I had been interrupted for 3 diaper changes and argument arbitration.  I’ll admit that I sometimes might think it’s too quiet.  Maybe.

So in summary, when young mothers whine about their exhausting struggles, please don’t tell us that we’ll miss them when our children are grown.  Should we wish it all away?  No.  Should we cherish the parts we love in every stage we’re in?  Absolutely. We will miss our children and the loveliest points of parenthood (and of course there will be new challenges at every stage), but we’ll happily kiss the hard parts goodbye.  President Monson says I’m wrong.

“If you are still in the process of raising children, be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered about the house, the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled will disappear all too soon and that you will—to your surprise—miss them profoundly.”

I can’t help but think that when he says “them,” he means the children, and not the fingerprints and laundry. Am I delusional? What do you think?

A)  Beat people up,

or B)  Book a private jet and escape to a Carribean island.  Alone.

Option B would probably make me feel better, but Option A is a lot cheaper.  I didn’t do either, but I wanted to.  Instead I just lost my temper and barked my disappointment and sent people to their rooms indefinitely.

I hosted a Relief Society Spiritual Literacy meeting at my house last night and we studied some of the recent conference talks.  My study partner and I read “What Manner of Men and Women Ought Ye to Be?”  I know what you’re thinking:  It made me feel all guilty and penitent.  It probably should have, but it didn’t (except for that one little part about “Discipline comes from the same root word as disciple and implies patience and teaching on our part. It should not be done in anger.”).  Honestly, the talk gave me some hope, some advice, some direction.  I’ve been really frustrated with my kids lately.  I feel like we’re in a cycle of the same mistakes over and over again — both theirs and mine.  I’m losing patience with them and with myself.  What I loved about this message was a fresh new perspective.  It gave me a better way to look at discipline and at praise and at my children themselves.  Here are a few of my favorite quotes.  Don’t be lazy and skip them; read them: 

When children misbehave, let’s say when they quarrel with each other, we often misdirect our discipline on what they did, or the quarreling we observed. But the do—their behavior—is only a symptom of the unseen motive in their hearts. We might ask ourselves, “What attributes, if understood by the child, would correct this behavior in the future?…”

—-

Through discipline the child learns of consequences. In such moments it is helpful to turn negatives into positives. If the child confesses to a wrong, praise the courage it took to confess. Ask the child what he or she learned from the mistake or misdeed, which gives you, and more important, the Spirit an opportunity to touch and teach the child. When we teach children doctrine by the Spirit, that doctrine has the power to change their very nature—be—over time.

—-

A sweet and obedient child will enroll a father or mother only in Parenting 101. If you are blessed with a child who tests your patience to the nth degree, you will be enrolled in Parenting 505. Rather than wonder what you might have done wrong in the premortal life to be so deserving, you might consider the more challenging child a blessing and opportunity to become more godlike yourself. With which child will your patience, long-suffering, and other Christlike virtues most likely be tested, developed, and refined? Could it be possible that you need this child as much as this child needs you?

Anyway, as I read these quotes and the rest of the talk, which is excellent, I felt some of my anger slipping away.  I felt the Spirit telling me that these principles are true, and there is a better way to approach our recent trend of disobedience and disrespect.  I felt like I could (with the Lord’s help) do it the right way and get the results I’ve been wishing for.  And isn’t it the truth that our children have the greatest power to develop God-like attributes in us … if we will let that happen?  I’m going to work on this.

I might buy some boxing gloves just in case, though.  Unless anyone has a private jet I can borrow.  Anyone?

I have a love-hate relationship with summer.  I will explain.

I love the sunshine and the absence of snow.  I love the parks and the leisurely pace and the fun summer family programs.  I love the freedom to schedule outings and day trips and vacations completely uninhibited by school calendars.  I love building a schedule made up of all the priorities I don’t seem to have room for during the school year.  I love my children having time to play outside and play with each other. I love the longer days, and I love that the kids get more playtime with dad. And I love watermelon, strawberries, and popsicles.

Now for the parts that are harder to celebrate. . . .  longer days mean later bedtime, and, frankly, after I’ve spent an entire day with all three children by myself, I’d kind of go for a 6 p.m. bedtime.  Vacations are fun, but they are hard work.  As in, if you’re a mom, the only things that really do “vacate” are your brain and your energy.  Plus, has anyone else noticed that children are just really naughty for several days after a vacation?  It’s exasperating.  I find it difficult to coordinate babysitting or go to appointments or make some time for myself when all my children are at home all day.  The gym, for example.  (Have I mentioned before that I loathe gym day-care?  I have issues.)  And since I never have any quiet time during the day, I stay up too late at night wasting my brain on mindless stuff just because I’m relishing my alone time. Oh, and let’s not forget that when siblings get to spend oodles of time together, they fight like cats and dogs.

Sigh. Sorry my cons paragraph seemed quite a bit longer than the pros.  I tend to get a little dramatic when I complain.  Anyway, in light of this summer paradox, I have a few questions:

1.  Do you think that maybe there’s a really fine line between children being naughty and children just being annoying?  I think I lump it all into the naughty category and get more fed up than I need to be.
2. One thing that saves my sanity is scheduled and enforced reading time.  My boys are 6 and 8 and both read really well.  I’ve found that a lot of books that are at their reading level have kind of inappropriate content.  They’re not quite ready for pre-teen literature.  Do you have any suggestions for some good chapter books or series for boys?
3. Any post-vacation tips?  Because, seriously, we have a few more coming up and I don’t know if I can handle the sassy, lazy aftermath.
4. We have a lot of great kids in our neighborhood, but I don’t know much about the rules of play date “etiquette.”  If a child invites another child to play, is it presumptuous to want to play at the home of the invited?  I always think it’s kind of odd when a kid shows up and says, “Can so-and-so play?” and you say yes, and then the kid just comes on in.  Oh, you meant here?  On the other hand, I know my own children would like to go play at their friends’ houses, too (One word: Wii.), but I never want them to invite themselves over.  Am I being weird about this? because I worry that I’m making more of it than I should.
5. We like to do several small weekend camping trips during the summer.  After Elder Perry’s last general conference talk, I committed myself to make sure that even when we are traveling, we should always go to church and take the sacrament.  This past weekend, we took a wrong turn on the way home, lost some time, and didn’t get back in time to take the sacrament.  I feel sad about that.  I need the sacrament.  This is not a question.  I’m just saying how it is.
6. I’m hoping it’s normal to be in a summer blog slump.  I don’t know if there’s less time for writing or if I have less ideas, but I dont’ feel very bloggy productive.  And reading blogs?  Only minimally.  Anyone else feeling that way?  I’m sorry if anyone I love has been feeling neglected.
7. Last question.  Do you have any favorite quotes or scriptures about patience?  I’d love to hear/read them.