This week will be our first Find-a-Friend Friday and we’ll all meet a new blog friend. To all of you who “applied” for the honor, you made it! It’s a long list, but I’ll get to you eventually. If you missed it, go back and check out the new plan and add yourself to the list if you’re interested in playing along.
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I almost feel like I owe a small apology about my post yesterday. I still stand by a lot of the points, but in my attempt to say that we all need to be more forgiving of each other, I also kind of lumped the people in the “statistics” into a category of people who don’t get it, which I didn’t mean to do or say or imply. I joked with a friend that we all need to study this talk by President Monson over and over and over again until we start to realize that we can NOT judge others unless we know their hearts, which we usually don’t. It’s hard to do, especially when we think we’re right about something, but we need to extend the same kind of forgiving mercy that we hope to receive in return. (And the less we think we need it, the more we probably do.)
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After I declared my undying love for Enrique Iglesias on my Things I Love post the other day, one of his songs showed up in my Pandora feed and it was VULGAR. And then I felt really stupid. So just in case you were all thinking I’m some kind of closet listener to explicit music, I’m not. At least not on purpose. I still love his old-school Spanish stuff. But please don’t run out and buy his latest stuff on my recommendation. Please. Okay, thanks.
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This is not any kind of formal announcement or anything, but last week I decided I wanted to write a book about motherhood. Not a how-to book, but more about the doctrine of motherhood. Of course, as soon as I started writing it, my children were possessed by demons and I’ve spent most of my time trying to hide from them or sending them to their rooms. So then I felt like “Who in the world do I think I am trying to write a book about motherhood when I don’t even like my children?” (I do, of course, really love my children, but you know, there are days . . . ). If I could only learn to be as patient with them as God is with me. So we’ll see how that all pans out.
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And finally, as a public service announcement, if you stay up too late relishing the child-free time you have, you’ll always pay for it in the morning. Just go to bed and get your sleep so that you can deal with the next day better than the day before. The “freedom” feels great at midnight, but it hurts come morning. And have you ever noticed that if you try to get away with it anyway, your children will always wake up at least a half hour earlier than normal just to rub it in? You’re welcome.
as “Lady and the Cramp.” Does anyone else find this as funny as I do?
