frazzled & frumpy

(This post originally ran a year ago for Mother's Day. Sorry for the re-post. I'm having a bit of writer's block tonight.) Being a mother can seem mundane. The cleaning, the cooking, the chauffeuring, the laundry. Then, you collapse into bed for a few hours of precious slumber before you get up to do it all again. This is mothering- a verb. But, being a mother is more than just the verb form of the word. Mother is also a noun.  I am a Mother. (My niece, Rachel, and her daughter, Rowe.) I believe without any doubt, that I was called to be a mother before I ever  came into existence on this planet. I agreed to this divine role because I understood how god-like it is.  I am sure that I couldn't wait to give life to my spirit brothers and sister.  I am a Mother.  A mother like Eve. I think that all too often, our first mother gets a bad rap.  She is blamed for committing the first sin.  She did not, in my mind, make a mistake. S...

That was the title of my very first blog post four years ago. At that time, all I knew about blogs was that it was a way to share pictures and updates about your family. I read my sister's blog and some friends'.  I updated every week or so. My how things have changed. Soon, I began writing down those thoughts that constantly rolled around inside my head. After a couple years, I started this blog just for my writing. It was an outlet for me. I never thought many people (other than those related to me) would read it.  I never dreamed I would be a part of an amazing group like BlogHer.  And, I never imagined I'd be part of a community, an honest-to-goodness circle of friends- who I've never met. I love the fact that I can click over to your little worlds and see what's on your minds.  I like thinking that I'm a part of your lives in some small way.  You lift me up when I'm down. You encourage me. You make me laugh and you make me cry. So, here's to y...

What is the magic of breasts? Preteens want them. Men desire them. So do babies.  Those with small ones covet the larger ones. We augment them, reduce them, cover them or show them off.  We strap them in, push them up, lift and separate. Where is this leading? It leads to today and my 'date' with the mammogram machine. This encounter was set up by my doctor. I trusted him and his match-making skills. But, as I went into my appointment, I began to wonder if perhaps we'd missed a step, or two. I think this machine should have at least bought me dinner, maybe sprung for a movie, before doing the things it did. This is the life of a woman, I thought as the mammy squished my boob. Modesty? Well that's out the window after your very first OB exam. We are poked and prodded in the most private of places, all in the name of medicine.  Not that I think we shouldn't. My mom is a breast cancer survivor and I believe strongly in preventative and all kinds of medical tr...

As I've said, this weekend was our General Conference.  The talks were amazing and inspiring.  I love the way there's always one or two that seem to have been just for me. It reminds me that I'm watched over and loved. This year, though, something else stood out more than usual. The Choir. (As in Mormon Tabernacle Choir.) They always sound good. I always appreciate their talent and their willingness to share that. But, this time, their songs touched me.  I got chills. I wanted to turn the speakers up full blast to fill my house.  Sadie made the comment that they sounded like angels. I agreed. But, no matter what I say about them, it will not adequately express how heavenly they are. So, here's a video. This was the song they sang yesterday, 'Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing'. (The video is from a few years ago, but it's the same arrangement as yesterday's.)  It's one of my favorites.  It's worth it, I promise. (Today is the b...

(image -  lds.org)  "38.  Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. 39.  And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word. 40.  But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore, that she help me. 41.  And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things; 42.  But one thing is needful; and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her." -Luke 10:38-42 I like the story of Martha and Mary. I love that the Savior came and visited these women, his friends. And, I love the way it shows us how to deal with our everyday lives.  (These are my thoughts on this story. Only mine. Not doctrine. Not representing my church. Just me.) Martha ...

Today I did this- woke up at 4:30am. The Handy Man forgot to turn off his alarm and it woke me while he showered. I never got back to sleep. I exercised, though, so it was all good. went to the doctor (hypothyroidism causes a once/year visit).  Interesting tidbit- this doctor (this is the first time I've gone to him) lives in my neighborhood and goes to my church. He asked about a pap smear, and said he could refer me to someone else. Um, yeah. There is no way in hell I'm having that exam by someone I'll see every Sunday.  grocery shopping. I used to enjoy this. Not anymore.  laundry. Always laundry.  read Dean Koontz. Love his books and the way he weaves his insight about writing into his fiction. "Writing isn't a source of pain. It's psychic chemotherapy. It reduces your psychological tumors and relieves your pain." (Odd Thomas) Took a nap with Noah. Now, he's wide awake with no sign of going to bed. made spaghetti and garlic bread.  Now...

Sadie got asked to Prom. She'll be 16 next week, and this will be her first date. (Our kids have to be 16 to date.) It's all very exciting.   Getting her 'response' ready.  "If there's more M&M's- it's yes, more Reeses- no." I'm pretty sure he'll know the answer without counting. I asked her if she wanted to wear my dress. What do you think? Maybe her date could find a super-cool, baby blue tux.  (Holy Smack! I wish I were still that skinny!) Do you love his mustache?  I'm not sure what I saw in him.  It was actually a lousy night. We broke up a week later. *sigh* I do not miss high school.