frazzled & frumpy

"Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter." -Martin Luther King, Jr. Being a parent, loving my children the way I do, strengthens my testimony of my Father in Heaven. If I am so concerned that my kids are happy and healthy, then His concern must be so much stronger. It gives me the courage to get through the day- knowing Someone is watching and worrying over me. I can stand tall with the knowledge that I am not alone in my struggles and trials. I don't know how anyone could go through this life without that assurance. I know that my family is sealed forever. That, too, gives me comfort. My friend just lost her father last week. It was bittersweet for her family , since he'd been suffering. She told me they're comforted knowing he's with his wife again and that they'll see him someday. What a gift it is- that knowledge. How anyone could handle death without knowing they'll see their loved one again, I don't know. I

Here's a few tips on how to successfully celebrate your birthday when you get to be old like me. Start celebrating the day before your birthday. Spend the night in a hotel with your sweetie. No kids, no phones, no cooking dinner, no kids, no laundry, no housework, no kids . Sit in a hot tub a couple of times. Stay up very late writing because you know you can sleep in. Eat fattening food, don't worry about it because you're 44 now, been married forever and he still loves and desires you, so, who cares? Sleep in. Let the hotel make you breakfast. Go home to the kids and have them all say, "Happy Birthday, Mommy." (yes, I have teenagers and, yes, they call me mommy) Ignore the fact that you have kids and a household to run. Lay around all day, watching TV, playing on computer and don't do any housework. Take a nap. Go to the General Relief Society Meeting with your mom and sisters. Be sneaky and eat pie and goodies with older sister while mom and younger sist

When my kids have a bad dream, they always come to me. Never dad. I know it's probably the whole mother-nurturing thing, but I think it's also partly because dad never remembers his dreams. He thinks it's weird that I remember mine, I think it's weird he doesn't. (And there you have the secret to our relationship- we're both weird.) So, he doesn't have the empathy about bad dreams. He's had them, I'm sure, but if you can't remember being chased by a little green martian (true dream from my youth) or having a bald head sticking out of a wall and biting you (also true), then you can't really understand what kind of terror will send a kid running to his mother's bedside with pleas of sleeeping in the safety of her bed. They're all getting a little big to 'climb in', so I usually make them a bed on the floor. I've warned Chip that he isn't allowed even that. At 6'4", I figure he's big enough to deal with night

I've spent my morning reading blogs. Amazing blogs by amazing women. I sometimes wish I were their friend, but then I know it wouldn't work. Because I'm so jealous of them. They have these great, popular blogs about their fascinating lives with hundreds of followers. I should know, I'm one of them. I can't start my day without knowing what's going on in their lives. Pathetic. It's the dorky-girl/cheerleader thing all over again. Also, my friend is in Hawaii-again. Didn't she just go to Hawaii? Oh, no, that was a whole year ago. Sheesh, what was I thinking? I'd really hate her if she weren't so fabulous. And if I didn't love her so much. I don't have a problem with most of the other 9, no killing or adultery here. Maybe a little problem with the Sabbath day, but that's only when I'm unprepared and have no diet Coke to get me through all the spirituality. (Ok, and maybe a little false witness sometimes- "I know the door is

I think I know my brothers and sisters pretty well. For example, Jan's favorite cookie is peanut butter, she's very athletic and tends to drive without a seat belt. (You better stop or I'm telling Mom!) Peter loves banana cream pie and has 4 tattoos (that I know of). Marsha works very hard and would actually be able to tell you more about us, that's because she knows all of us the best. The adversary, as our brother, knows us well, too. He knows our weaknesses and strengths. He knows what works on us. For example, he doesn't tempt me with alcohol or drugs because those aren't a temptation. For others, of course, they would be. I wonder if he has a file on each one of us that he can refer to when his minnions need to know what to do. If he had one on me it would look like this- What Works on Jewels- 1. Proscrastination 2. Discouragement 3. Body Image I'm trying to recognize when these things pop up and the source they're coming from. Especially the procra

There are some things that 'I am' that are easy to prove. For example: I am a mother - I have the children, the stretch marks and saggy, uh, skin to prove this one. Whethe or not I'm a good mother, is not so easy. If you listened outside my windows at certain times of the day you might doubt that. I am a young women's leader - the stooped shoulders caused by the big, fat notebook that I carry around every Sunday would prove this one. Along with the e-mails, meetings and the worry lines that I contribute to stressing over these precious girls. I am a stay-at-home mom - not because I stay-at-home that much, but because I can tell you who won the showcase on Price is Right and what my friends posted on Facebook today. I am a friend - how can you prove this one? Well, have your washing machine break down and see how many offers you get to 'come on over'. I had enough that made me feel very friend-ly. My point with this post is that some things 'we are' are