Friday, April 17, 2015

Random Friday

If my dog ever runs away, I'll know it's because when he tries to jump on our bed and fails, we laugh at him. (It really is funny.)

My son volunteered to wash dishes last night. (*ahem* teenage son)  This makes me so happy I can hardly stand it.

As soon as I leave the room, the Handy Man turns the TV to ESPN or some other sport-report-clip-thing. When he leaves, I turn it to news.  Or search to find an episode of The Big Bang Theory. Or Friends.

All the times that I've gotten a flat tire, only once has it happened on the road. Every other time, it's been at home. I'm just lucky that way.

Maverick now has styrofoam cups for my diet Coke. I feel a bit like they did this just for me. Because I'm probably their best customer.

I am obsessed with Sam Smith. Ob. Sessed. I have four of his songs on my phone and I listen to them daily. It makes me feel a bit less 'out of it' and old. (This one is my favorite!)







Thursday, April 16, 2015

My Heart



This girl has my heart. (Yes, all of my children do. Of course.) But there is something undeniable about the connection between female hearts and minds. Our spirits are entwined in eternities. A golden thread binds us. From the moment the ultrasound tech said those magical words, "It's a girl." my soul has known her. My daughter. My sister. My friend.

A couple of years ago Sadie decided to go on a mission. Often, when people heard this, their reactions were heavily seasoned with doubt.
"Oh, you're thinking of going?"
 "Yeah, we'll see."
Or her favorite, "You'll be married by then."

Others may have doubted. I never did. And neither did she.

After months of getting 'stuff' done, including getting her wisdom teeth pulled, her papers were finally submitted three weeks ago. And then we waited.

One week ago, the big white envelope arrived.

Now, most missionaries have some place they hope to go. Most of them are wishing for exotic locations and new languages to learn. My girl was no different. I worried silently that her call would be a disappointment if she stayed in the states. I prayed that she would know, no matter where, that she'd been called to the right place.

That night we gathered, my kids, my parents, a couple of friends, and watched with bated breath for her to tear open the envelope and begin to read.



"Sister Sadie Diane DeMille, You are hereby called to serve in the Pennsylvania, Pittsburgh mission."


It isn't a foreign mission, but for a girl who hasn't traveled much, it is a world away. She's thrilled. And, she got one other wish--to leave soon.  She departs on May 20th. A short forty days away.

The next month will be filled with preparations, shopping, packing and trying to fit in all those movies we wanted to watch together (and almost an entire season of Downton Abby!) I haven't cried. Yet. I'm reveling in the newness and the excitement. I'm forcing thoughts of her being gone for 18 months from my mind. There will be time for tears later.

For now I will spend as much time as possible with her. I will soak her in, her smiles, her laughter, her kindness, her testimony. I will try to store up as much of her as I can to keep me going when she's not just a door away. And when she leaves, I will let her go and I will wait patiently for my heart to return.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Spring Break in My Head

The school's spring break happened last week-- we all stayed home. Which of course is no break for me. I spent a lot of time on social media and got to see all the people who did fun things during the kids' week off. A couple friends took their families to southern Utah, and some went to California. Someone even went to Hawaii.

Hawaii?

You know, that's not so great. I hear Hawaii is highly overrated. Palm trees and beaches. Whatever.
I mean, we're cool, too. We did lots of fun things during our week. I loved it. I wish it had lasted longer.  Yeah, like a whole other week, cuz, you wouldn't believe what we did.

My kids played video games...I mean, they played in a video game tournament. Yeah. And they won. And it was just the state level and now we get to go to nationals. Yeah. That's it.

And, we watched TV, uh, no, we were on TV. Yeah. They were filming High School Musical- the Ten Year Reunion and we were, you know, extras. We danced and... we sang. I'm a really good singer, Zac Ephron said so.  Yep, when the movie comes out, look for us.




Also, we colored eggs, er, I mean, we dipped our eggs in gold. Yeah. Pure gold. And we donated them to the less fortunate kids who only get regular eggs. We're really philanthropic like that.

One day, we went swimming in the pool with dolphins... and sharks. Yeah. In fact, we fed dolphins to the sharks. And, I got this really cool shark tooth when one of them bit my chain mail suit. Yeah. I made it into a necklace. I'm wearing it right now. Too bad you can't see it.


And, to top it all off, I got a massage. From...Michael Buble, yep, Michael. He's a really good masseuse and he sang to me while he massaged. It was very relaxing.


What did you do on your break? Bet it wasn't as cool as ours.

Monday, April 6, 2015

I Am a Soul



"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body."
(C.S. Lewis)

I am a soul, or a spirit. And, as a spirit, I am eternal and glorious.  I was given a body to house that spirit, and, someday, my body will be as eternal and glorious as the celestial soul it encompasses. 
This is one of those truths that I have to relearn over and over. So I think it bears repeating. 

Our bodies are important. If not, Satan wouldn't care what we did with them. But he does. 
If Satan had a 'hit list' of the things he attacks, we could agree that the family is at the top.  I believe that our bodies run a close second for a couple of reasons-

First- he doesn't have one.  He's quite the jealous type, you know.  Our bodies are something he will NEVER have.  Man, that has got to tick him off. And, if you can't have something, and you're basically a hot-head, you don't want those who do have that something to enjoy it. You'd like nothing more than for them to dislike or even despise it.  You'd want them to think badly about it, to abuse it, to put it down and try all kinds of drastic means to change it.  You'd use drugs, alcohol, sex, plastic surgery, food and peer pressure to get people to destroy their temples. And, if you have the media to help you, all the better.

Second- Our bodies have power.  We have the power to create. We can create art and literature, music and dance, buildings, technology, really, the possibilities are endless.  Most importantly, we can create life. Living, breathing human temples to house more glorious spirits. And, through that, we create families. Which brings us right back to number one on his hit list.  He can't create anything, except turmoil, which doesn't really count.  

I am a soul. I have a body. I am choosing to love this body, faults and all. I pledge to care for it and give it the respect it deserves.  It may not be glorious, yet, but it has the potential and the promise that someday it will be. 

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Keep Your Hands and Arms Inside at All Times



Have you ever had those times, when life is like an easy chair? All comfy and soft and warm. You are relaxed and happy and-- gosh! why not put your feet up? Sigh. Easy.

What you may not have noticed, as you sit there with your chips and diet Coke, is the five-point harness strapped around you. And the click-click-click of the track beneath you. Oh, and the fact that you're view is suddenly filled with sky and clouds.

Hang on, hon, because this ride is about to get real.

I started my day like usual with a few of my kids hanging out on my bed. I was on my laptop and from the corner of my awareness, I heard my son, Max, making a weird sound.

"Stop it. Please." (I was being very calm and patient.)

"I can't."

I turned to look at him and my heart dropped. His head kept making involuntary jerks while his mouth made a 'tch' sound.

"I don't know why I'm doing it."

Stroke. Seizure. Tourrettes. A lifetime of teasing. All these possibilities ran through my head. My calm ran away from me like a feral cat.  So, I did what any self-respecting non-medical person does. I googled it. Apparantly, motor tics are common in children. Really? Do you know any kids who have them? I don't.

I let him stay home from school, wondering if I'd set a terrible precident. If this continued, he couldn't stay home everyday. I don't have either the patience or the skill set to homeschool. And Max is a social kid. He needs his friends.

I called the doctor. We went in and his exam was completely normal. (With the exceptions of the head jerks, which had calmed somewhat.) The pediatrician suggested he go off his ADHD meds for a couple of days. Perhaps a change in doseage, or a change in medication would help. Mostly, we're at a point of 'wait and see'.

So, my Lazy-boy is now screaming down the incline and into a dark tunnel. Wind in my hair, stomach in my throat, I am holding on for dear life. I can't see the way ahead, but because I've been on this ride for a while, I know there are plenty of twists and turns to come. It's terrifying and thrilling at the same time. But hey, it's life, meant to be lived, struggles and pain, success and joy.

Besides,  sitting all comfy and warm just leads to a wider seat.

Monday, March 16, 2015

My Imperfect Faith



"In moments of fear or doubt or troubling times, hold the ground you have already won, even if that ground is limited...hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes."

General Conference is in 20 days. (Twenty!) I love conference. It's the highlight of my year..half year? It happens twice a year, so whatever. It's a highlight. We get to stay home in our jammies and, as my kids say, "Watch church on TV." As I say- I get to sit at the feet of prophets and hear what they know I need.

And I need it. Every time. Each talk is good. Each one inspired. But, there's always one or two that seem to have been written just for me. And when I hear that talk, and it touches the depths of my soul, and my question is answered, then I know- He's listening.

In preparation for conference, I decided to watch a previous talk everyday. Today's talk was by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland on faith. I remember when he gave this talk. I remember his impassioned voice and the way he got emotional. I got emotional too. Because he spoke of faith and how we don't have to have 'perfect faith', that there is nothing wrong with admitting we have doubts, but that it is imperative that we lead with the faith we possess.

 "I am not asking you to pretend to faith you do not have. I am asking you to be true to the faith you do have." 

I have faith. It isn't perfect. Sometimes I think it's small compared to others. But, it's okay. I have to cling to the faith I have and 'journey on', knowing that each day as I work and pray and do the things I know are right, my faith will grow.
 My faith is enough.
It's enough to get me out of bed each day, knowing there will be struggles. It's enough to teach my children truth. It's enough for them to lean on until they have faith of their own. It's enough to give of myself when I feel like there's no more to give. It's enough to help me be patient in waiting, trusting that the answers will come.

It is enough.

(Click HERE for the talk by Elder Holland.)

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Hello Again

Helloooo my five readers!! Are there still five of you? Ah, crap! It's been so long I'm sure I've lost one or two. My bad.
Anyway, today I am returning to the blogging world. (I know, you probably don't believe me because I've said that a few too many times.) But, this time I mean it!
Why?

Well, I quit my *job for one thing. Yeah, I thought, what the heck, this extra income thing is for the birds. I should just stay home again. And so I am. I was hoping to do 'something' to replace said extra income. Still working on that. Until then, it's Ramen for dinner kids! (They don't mind. They actually like ramen for dinner, which makes me wonder if they're actually my children after all.)

Also, I miss writing. I've been writing, if you call editing a novel writing. It is, I guess, but it's much harder and much less fun than real writing. And I miss getting comments that make me feel like I have some talent. I don't get those from editing. All I get from editing is a headache. And indigestion.

So here I am. Blogging. And hoping to hold on to my five? Four? Three readers!! Don't let me down, people. Let me know you're still here.

And, because you're here, and because I love you, here's a list of the reasons I had a love/hate relationship with my job.



  • Loved the customers. Especially the old men. They're sweet and not afraid to flirt with a middle-aged woman and make her day.
  • Hated the snobby customers who were all, "These are very expensive, special clothes. You be very careful, clean these separately." (Yeah, yeah, lady. Just don't watch me as I drop them in with all the unspecial clothes.)
  • Loved my co-workers. 
  • Hated checking all the pockets in suit coats and pants. "Let's see what treasures you left in there for me. Oh, gum, and what the heck are these crumbs from? Are you eating crackers at church??"
  • Loved the smell of the place. Clean and fresh.
  • Hated ironing. Remember when you were a little girl and ironing seemed so fun and you would use your wooden iron and pretend to iron your baby dolls clothes? Well, ironing a couple hundred shirts a day is not. the. same. I often felt like I was in a bad Macbeth play- "Out, out damn wrinkle!"
  • Loved the schedule. I was here to get my kids to school and home before they returned.
  • Hated that I couldn't wear my pj's to work.
  • Loved making fun of people for their fashion choices. 
  • Hated that seeing all those clothes made my closet look positively pitiful. I mean, seriously, who has 21 dress shirts? And who can afford to have all their clothes cleaned and pressed by someone else? Not this girl.
  • Hated that after doing laundry all day at work, I had to come home and do laundry there. Something messed up about that.




*I worked at a dry cleaners for 7 months. Did you know the majority of the stuff people bring to the dry cleaners isn't actually dry cleaned? It's put into a big ole washing machine and dryer. Just like the one you have at home. Heh.