frazzled & frumpy

A recent study found that, on average, women have 13 'I hate my body' thoughts every day.  That's one for every waking hour. When I heard that, my thought was 'only 13?'  Since my breakthrough a week or so ago, this is what I've been battling.  Like they say, old habits die hard. Yeah, like a cockroach. Cut off their heads and my negative thoughts would just run around headless. So, I've been working at it. I've tried to stop those thoughts in their tracks, replacing them with something, anything positive.  Pictures are a huge part of the problem.  Every time I get a picture taken, I look at it and think either I'm fat, or old, or fat and old.  Digital cameras are great, but make it ever so easy to just delete .  I am taking courage from my favorite blogger- nienie .  She posts pictures of herself all the time and every time, I'm taken back by her courage. Part of embracing myself and my beauty is embracing who I am now, right now. Not who I w

A year ago I got a really bad haircut. Not this bad- but, lousy nonetheless.  I got a picture off the internet and put it on my mirror.  Tomorrow, I get it cut.  This- is the style I'm hoping for. I'll let you know how it turns out.

I wonder, on days like today, how the Savior would want us to celebrate.  I'm sure that the increase in church attendance is pleasing. All the chocolate? I don't think he minds.  But, I have a feeling He'd like us to be doing what He would if He were here.  That isn't always easy. A few days ago, I got a call. A friend told me that a girl, Rhonda, was staying at her home. (Rhonda is a friend of my son.)  She told me that Rhonda couldn't stay any longer, but was a bit reluctant to leave.  She couldn't get her out.  I said I would help. I'd had a bit of a confrontation with Rhonda recently and had no problem telling her to go. Though she had been friends with my son, I had sort of 'written her off' because of some bad behavior.  As I drove to her home, though, something strange happened. My frustration and anger at Rhonda flew out my open window. See, here's what happened.  Heavenly Father, knowing my temper, put images in my mind.  He made me

This year, instead of vegetables, I've decided to grow children.

If we had to stand in line in the pre-existence to get talents, then I slept in the day they gave out the musical gifts. (My sisters would say that I was stuck in the line for soft skin. What.Ever. Soft skin a good thing, Heidi.) My husband isn't musical either, and our poor children inherited our crappy genes.  Seriously, when we sing during family home evening, we have to keep the windows closed.  If we left them open, all the dogs in the neighborhood would join in. I always wanted to be musical.  I sang along to my Donny & Marie and Carpenters records.  My sister and I played 'music star' using a spatula as a microphone.  I tried to play the clarinet- that lasted less than a year. My parents should be sainted for living through three kids who learned (or tried to learn) the clarinet. Have you ever heard a beginning clarinet player? No? Lucky you.   In college, I took a piano class, thinking I would finally find my niche. I got a D. At the beginning of this year

 I hurried you along today.  You were doing your thing, climbing counters, poking the cake I just made, playing the wii.   I was in a hurry.  'Time for school. Let's go.' I got you dressed, and didn't laugh at your antics.  'We need to hurry.'  You wanted to clean your own face- no time. I did it for you and you grimaced. Once we were ready (finally!) you insisted on going around the block.  My shoulders drooped. Fine. I tried to rush you as you got out your scooter.  'Come. On.' Down the street, I urged you to go faster.  'We'll be late.'   My poky little puppy, you had better things to do.  Like inspecting the 'snakes' left all over the sidewalk after yesterday's rain.  'Please don't stop.' when you did just that to make tracks in a nice circle of mud.  Standing at the corner, I almost tapped my foot with impatience. Then, as I watched you push/pull your scooter up the hill, I had a glimpse.  A momentary fl

Monday, Monday.  This is a bittersweet day. The kids go to school- sweet.  Guy goes to work- bitter.   The kitchen was clean-sweet. There are about 5 loads of laundry to do-bitter. I got up and exercised- sweet. My back is killing me- bitter. It's Family Home Evening night- sweet. No on planned a lesson- bitter. Watched 'Harry Potter' instead- sweet. Had strawberry shortcake for dessert- also sweet.  Did the bedtime struggle- bitter. Now, everyone is asleep and momma gets to write in the quiet- so very sweet.  Good-night.

 I was watching the news and saw a woman in a Palm Sunday service who was wiping tears from her eyes.   As Mormons, we don't celebrate Palm Sunday.  So, it's good to see other religions and the way they express their faith.  We differ in our beliefs and the tenets of our faith, but, as Christians, our core belief is the same.   We believe in Christ .  We believe that He lived, He atoned for our sins, died and was resurrected.   I'm grateful for Easter, for a time when we can put aside the differences in our religions and focus on the  thing that brings us all together.  Our Savior.  "It is fitting that during the week from Palm Sunday to Easter morning we turn our thoughts to Jesus Christ, the source of light, life, and love. The multitudes in Jerusalem may have seen Him as a great king who would give them freedom from political oppression. But in reality He gave much more than that. He gave us His gospel, a pearl beyond price, the grand key of knowledge that, once u

This week's best 'belting-it-out-because-I'm-alone-in-the-car' song- "Nobody gets too much heaven no more, It's much harder to come by, I'm waiting in li-ii-ii-ine." I may be a girl, but I definitely can't hit the high notes like the brothers Gibb. Who are we kidding? I don't hit any of the notes.  Katy Perry and that Gaga chick can rest easy.  I won't be going on tour any time soon.

e-piph-a-ny a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of  something This week, I had an epiphany, or as Oprah would say, an 'aha' moment. It didn't really happen all at once. I'd had several days of reading and hearing things that came together like one beautiful puzzle.  The pieces fell into place and I could suddenly see the whole picture.  I know, I know, get on with it. Ok, here it is in a nutshell, or to be more exact, in a quote from C.S. Lewis.  "You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." 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.  Now, wait. You may be thinking, 'Didn't you learn this in Primary?' Yes, I did. And, I have taught this truth many times to my children and to many Primary and Young Women classes.  I

My tulips peeking through the soil. Beautiful, isn't it? There's something about spring. I know we all like a change in season.  I look forward to fall (Oh! Fall!) and I even look forward to the first snow.(Hard to believe right now.)   But spring has something special. It gives me hope and that -hope- is something I cannot live without. Spring is also a time of new beginnings.  There's always such a big push at the new year to make resolutions and try new things.  I think spring resolutions would be better.  January is depressing. All that cold. Blech. Now is the time to set goals and think of the things we could do better.  Warmer days are coming. (It doesn't seem that way in Utah, but I have hope!)  The trees are budding, little fingers ready to open and welcome the new season with their flowery offering.  My grass, which suffered a near-fatal summer last year, is turning green, and my tulips are bravely breaking through the ground. I admire tulips.  They

This one is for real. I've been writing poetry since I was a little girl, it was my first form of written expression. So, in honor of this month, I thought that I would share one of my poems. This one is sort of old, but I like it. I couldn've tried to write one, but with the way I'm feeling it'd be something about how men should get to have cramps or how being overweight should be considered desirable. So, to spare you my sarcasm, here it is. Drought Love flows, Like water over parched earth, From heart to heart. Bringing new, green life To all it touches. I have stood in summer storms, As the heavens opened And love poured from the sky. Drenched, I shivered, Not at the cold, But, because of abundance. It ran down my face- Teardrops- And dripped from my fingertips, So that all I touched Sparkled like morning dew. I have sat in winter watching, Snowflakes Wander from the clouds. They caught in my hair, And stuck to my lashes. Warmth flows

Chips and Black Bean Salsa. Brownies and Ice Cream. Turtles Candy. Diet Coke and a Pamprin chaser. I'm going to bed.

One of my favorite Bible stories is in John 5. It's a story of the pool of Bethesda, which had healing properties.  When the water was 'troubled', the first person in would be healed.  An older man was near the pool when Jesus asked him, "Wilt thou be made whole?"  This man had been sick for 38 years and every time he tried to get into the pool, someone would get there first.  He told the Savior this and added that he had no one to help him get in the water. Ever the compassionate healer, Jesus tells him, "Rise, tak up they bed, and walk." I'm not sure why this story is so dear to my heart. Perhaps it's the image of this elderly man, feeling so frustrated and alone. How many times have I struggled with whatever trial is weighing me down?  Though surrounded by family and friends, I have nevertheless found myself feeling alone with none to help.  I can see the answer right there, but for some reason, I can't quite reach it. I think it is th

 There's a character in my book who is a link . This means she can see the connections between people- good or bad. I got the idea for her gift from a night when my sisters and I were together in a car. We were talking and laughing, the four of us, and I could imagine a connection between us. Like a golden chord, it joined us in a circle.  I know I've blogged about them before, but I will do so again. I love them. I count myself so blessed to have 3 of them.  Heidi, Ellen and Me   Our lives are very different, yet, when we're together, the bonds that were forged through our childhoods erase the lines that separate us. Having just 2 years between each of us, we grew up as playmates. We loved jacks and roller skating. We took swimming lessons together and rode bikes all over whatever neighborhood we happened to live in. Of course, we fought. Sometimes the battles were bloody- mostly when I attacked with my nails. Heehee, ten weapons right at the tips of my fingers!

My husband and I were watching The Good Wife. We were talking about how old Michael J. Fox looks. I said, "She's aged much better." meaning Julianna Margulies. Then he said that Michael is older than us, but she is younger. Ok, that made me feel better. Then, curiosity got the best of me. Dang internet! Sometimes it is not a good thing to have so much useless information at your fingertips. She's 2 1/2 months older than me. I hate Hollywood.

It isn't really Arachnophobia Week, but it should be. I mean, those of us who are afraid of spiders are obviously the smartest and most sensible people. So, in honor of my made up holiday, I'm composing a letter to all of the eight-legged critters who reside in my home. Dear Arachnids- I understand that you live in my house. I'm willing to let you stay, if you will agree to abide by a few basic rules. These will help us live together in peace. You will not hide in the dirty laundry so that when I put it in the wash, I find you crawling among the clothes. This makes it impossible to take the clothes out after the cycle is done, even though I know you probably didn't survive. If you feel the need to make a web, do not, under any circumstance, make it over a doorway. I might walk into it and destroy all your hard work. Running around the kitchen floor is a big no-no. I could step on you, causing you to bite my foot, at which point I will call my h

I'm a bad mom. I can't remember what time my kids were born. I remember the days, isn't that enough? My mom could still tell you the times she welcomed each of us into the world. I don't know, I just didn't memorize it. I know the general time of day (afternoon, evening or morning). Well, I recently found out that the kids' birth certificates have the time on them! Saved! With one exception. Sadie. I'm not sure if it's because her certificate is a different format, or if for some reason the state doesn't have that info. I feel bad. I can't even tell her that much about her birth. After having seven labors/deliveries, the details tend to get foggy. I get them mixed up. How awful is that? I do remember some things about each one, and I wrote some of them down. But not all. What I can tell you is that Sadie was an easy labor. She came out and promptly peed on me. I didn't mind. When they weighed her, (10lb. 11oz.) the doctor said,

.....posts in 30 days. Why? The challenge I guess. And because I'm sure you're all (all 6 of you) just not getting enough of me. I've made a list of possible subjects, have ideas for different days. We'll see how it turns out. Hope you don't get sick of me. Ready, Set, Here we go.

Sunday mornings have one thing in common, that would be Maxwell telling me he isn't going to church, "Church is stupid. Why do we go?" I guess if he were older I could explain. Since he's 7, I tell him he Jesus wants us to and then just tell him to get dressed. What I would tell him, if he were older, is that our spirits are like muscles. (This is something he would like to hear because he is all about running, jumping and anything that lets his body move.) Once in college, my roommates and I had a conversation about exercise. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just exercise for 12 hours straight and have it over with? None of this everyday thing. But, of course, that doesn't work. We have to work out regularly for it to have an effect. Spiritual matters are the same. The exercise of our spiritual muscles has to be regular or they will atrophy and become weak. That's why we go to church each week. Why we read our scriptures and say prayers everyday . An occa