frazzled & frumpy

. ...daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us. I spent last week at girls' camp. I love girls camp, always have. I went every year as a young woman and have great memories. (Well, except my the year where I was the only first-year beehive and the other beehives decided to initiate me by scaring the pants off me in a way that literally gave me nightmares for years.) I love going as a leader and taking my daughter was the icing on the cake. The thing that really struck me this week was this- Knowledge is Power. The week at girls camp gave these girls so much knowledge. The world these young women live in is brutal. There are so many out there, that 'evil one' included, who are bombarding them with the messages that they aren't thin, pretty, smart or good enough. The young women's theme is so influential. When I was that age, there was no theme. (Yes, I was a pioneer.) I see what a powerful thing it is for them to memorize that first sentence- "We are daugh

I wonder if you've ever gotten after your kids for having messy rooms, then looked around your own and realized it's messier than theirs? I don't know what it is about my bedroom. It's sort of the catch-all. If I don't know where to put something, it ends up there. I don't spend much quality time there, just sleeping and watching TV when I'm tired of watching Nick Jr. with Noah. Plus, no one sees it, no visitors anyway, so why clean? Sure, sure, to make it feel better, blah, blah. Oprah says your bedroom should be a sanctuary. Hey, my door locks, which means I can keep the kids out- that's a sanctuary to me. Maybe if my furniture wasn't all designer DI, and maybe if my comforter was something other than the one we made at the shower for my brother and his now ex-wife, and maybe if I didn't have to clean pencil, crayon and pizza off the walls, then maybe I'd care a little more. My kids haven't commented on my messy room. They do h

When you hold that newborn in your arms, his little body so fragile and helpless, you swear you will do all in your power to protect him. You watch carefully as he begins to walk, wishing you could bubble-wrap the whole world. Then, they leave for school and you get your first feeling of helplessness. Oh, that you could go with him, walk invisibly next to him, arms making a circle around his body, keeping out all danger. We can't help but feel this way. It's overwhelming to think Heavenly Father would trust us with this precious cargo. How in the world am I supposed to keep him safe when he isn't here with me? I can't, and that's a sobering realization. Fast forward to the teenage years. Suddenly that little baby you held looks down out you. His teeny hands have grown so large, and instead of a rattle, his toy of choice is a cell phone. Those feelings of wanting to guard him don't change with his body. But, when they're that big, you sort of forge