State of Obvious

Do you ever wish to find Neverland?  To never grow up, never change, never lose the spark of youth that shines on the glimmering days of childhood? I wish it, and yet I don't. I wish for innoncence regained, for hopeful thinking and absolute confidence in the unseen. I wish for someone else that can make my choices for me.  Someone else that knows the wisest course and steers me down it with a steady, sure hand. I wish for falling asleep at bedtime and pure, crystal-clear dreams that might come true. And yet I don't. I never realized that the sure and steady hands that lead me were just a little bit unsure.  I never realized that behind the guiding light was a flickering flame.  It was only magnified by the driving need to keep the ship on course.  I always thought my parents knew mostly what to do and how to do it.  I never questioned how they got that knowledge, I just assumed it came with the grown-up package. It really, really doesn't. There is comfort in knowing that I

1.  We are once again house hunting.  The house we are living in now is fantastic.  No, really, it's freakin' amazing.  It is the biggest house I have ever lived in.  In my ENTIRE life.  While I very much enjoy the space (hello, family rooms should be built as part of every house) it is a tad too large at times (dining room? den? empty room, ya that's the way we'll go with it!) .  I find that keeping a large house clean is easier.  What kinda logic is that, you ask?  Well, when people have room in their rooms to make a mess they seem to somewhat self contain those messes.  Don't get me wrong, I still regularly have dishes in my sink and toys on my floor but it's so spread out that you don't notice the mess as much.  Our neighborhood is also downright amazing.  Friendly, quiet, close to shopping but not so close that we hear noise.  And walking distance to an elementary school.   Fan tas tic.   BUT (isn't that an awful word?) we can't afford it

I imagine that reading my blog must be like watching a pinball machine gone insane. Today I am FREAKING out. Stressed out to the max. The future is so uncertain, the next 2 months completely a haze of 'uhh what!?' that I feel like I might burst out of my skin. Things are still good , I keep reminding myself. Eric still has a job, we have a roof over our head, food to eat, and two children that give me warm fuzzies. Life is still good . I just wish it came with a few more instructions . A little bit of A+B=C would be helpful . Something other than contemplative silence when I pray. That's not asking too much, is it ? The dominos are stacked - will they fall, will they stand?

Culture has changed.  People have changed.  Just today I was talking with Cute Pam and Amazing Amy about slang terms and common names.  Like Richard.   There are tons of fun slang terms out there to use that don't feel like swearing.  Interweb is one of those terms.  Apparently "interweb" is what you get when you merge "world wide web" and "internet."  And "blog" is an abbreviation of "weblog." Some more fun words you can incorporate into your everyday vernacular: Yellular - the loud voice you adopt when you have a bad cell phone connection. Laundry limbo - intentionally rewashing clothes that you don't feel like putting away (I may have done this before, shhh) Noob, nub, nob, newb - a person who is new to a game, or lacks the skills to be competitive in a game, or who tends to whine/complain when beaten at a game.  Also used in a joking way to refer to someone who made a silly mistake. Pwn - (pronounced to rhyme with "own&

It is a crazy world we are living in.  What, with Octo-Mom and bank bailouts and jobs shriveling up like grass in the summer sun.   Crazy. But, you know what I think?   It's not so bad. Sure, we've got crime and pollution.  We've got recession  (teetering more towards depression) , we've got 100s of channels playing non stop so that you can get your smut 24/7.   But , we've also go new and exciting technologies.  Little bits of data that can send my thoughts halfway around the world while I am still thinking them.  Cameras that document the growth spurts and slumps of my kids.  It's not so bad.   I've got these two lovely leeches that suck all my love right out, that fight over who gets to sit on the closest stool while we make cookies, that tumble over each other on the couch while we tell scripture stories.  We started this new thing, too, where we each take a turn telling everyone else at least one thing they did that day that we appreciated.   Tonight Jo

But I didn't die.  I thought I might for a minute, but it passed.  People even said that I gave a nice talk.  Two people asked for a copy.  I'm thinking that the early morning church schedule must have something to do with it, not enough oxygen in the air at that hour.  Or something.  I'm really glad it's over.   Here is what I talked about, give or take, in case you really wanted to know.  

There are some things I just don't understand. For example, why do people care if that darn tree in the forest makes a sound? How exactly will more government programs that we have to PAY for stimulate the economy? How come my brand new computer keeps spazzing out when I'm using the interweb? Isn't it uncomfortable to wear the same shirt and underwear for 4 days in a row? {ahem JOSH!} Why do those hairs keep growing back? How come those 3 stray gray hairs stand out like spotlights? Does it really have to snow SO MUCH!? How come I never have enough socks? Anybody, anybody?

The other day I asked Josh to take some self potraits, this is a sample of what I got.  Could the boy be any cuter?  No, I don't think so!

The Bishop decided to indulge in acts of cruel and unusual punishment.   He asked me to give a talk.  About forgiveness, so I can't even hold a grudge.  What a rip. You know how people always say "I think I was assigned a talk about this mostly for myself"?  Well, I'm perfect so I don't think that at all.  I definitely haven't been feeling a little itchy-footed about anger and controlling emotions.  I definitely don't think I yell too much and talk softly too little.  For sure I'm not impatient.  When Elder Lynn G. Robbins said " Anger is an uncivil attempt to make another feel guilty or a cruel way of trying to correct them. It is often mislabeled as discipline but is almost always counterproductive. Therefore the scriptural warning: “Husbands, love your wives, and be not bitter against them,” and “fathers provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged” he wasn't talking to me.  At all.   By the way, my sister said she's no

Option A - A 3 year old rocking out to Guitar Hero, making up words as she goes and getting boo'd off the stage but still yelling "I did it!" at the end - OR - Option B - A 10 year old, freshly dressed in pj's, running into the family room and letting loose repeated, spluttering toots as he jams out to the music playing on the Guitar Hero loading screen (He says he was embarrassed and it wasn't funny, but his laughing and smiling beg to differ) Sometimes life is just full of hard choices...

Or Not To First , it's probably not a good idea to start off V Day early by insulting your sister the day before.  Let it be known, hence forth and forever, that when I used the term pathetic I only meant me.   Me, me, me remembe r?  My sister is probably the furthest thing from pathetic you've ever met (or not met) and you can take that to the bank.  And I don't mean the ones that are going under either. Second, nothing says romance like a trip to H&R Block.  No, really .  There is something magical about hearing the words " adoption carry over ", particularly if that extends into next year.  And the year after.  The key is to actually get money back .  Otherwise, doing your taxes on V Day will probably end up feeling more like D Day.   Third, it really helps if you plan ahead.  Picking a restaurant while you're in the car on the way - well it does make for a nice ride.  Every place is going to be packed.  If you score a 30 minute wait time, jump on i

The word of the day is pathetic . Back in high school, I was a little too chubby with glasses a little too big and absolutely no confidence. I don't think I was bad looking, I wasn't covered in zits or totally awkward, I was just kind of there. I haven't changed much, actually. (Except for the glasses, those are hot.) Lucky for me, my husband sees past all that and loves me anyhow. Now that I'm so old and wise, I can look back at this list without self pity. And I wouldn't trade it in for an alternate 90210 existence either. Four pathetic things I didn't do in high school: 1. Get flowers from a boyfriend/secret admirer on V-day. Do you remember that day, when all the kids in school were getting flowers and balloons all day long? And the rest of us felt like pathetic losers? Yeah, I remember it too! One year my two sweet friends sent me flowers on V-day, I still appreciate it - my one shining moment of non-loserdom. 2. Go to my Senior Prom. I DID

Did you notice that we've added Uncle Heezy aka Scott aka Z-Man (he says everyone calls him that but I never have. I'm humoring him.) aka Eric's brother to my side bar? He wanted me to give you a run down on his 'stats'. You know, in case you're single and looking. Oh, and rich - that'd be good. Scott Age: ?1 - on the "up slope" he says. He's older than Eric but younger than 50. Smart people can figure it out. Height/Weight: 5'5" OR 6 foot if that turns you on, 180 lbs Hobbies: Dogs, eating, cars, eating, fixing stuff, eating, motorcycles, eating, girls, eating (seriously, the man eats more food than anyone in the house and never gains more than a pound or two. Its so very very wrong. I feel a little better about it when he gets really bad heart burn. But, only a little.) Looking for: A good cook, sense of humor, must love dogs, doesn't mind playing second fiddle to a car. Oh and this (but he says bookshelf, not big

For the first time I am feeling the impact of having no Dr. Pepper in the house.  Last week I rationed out the Super Bowl supply so that it lasted until Friday.  Saturday I had one when we were 'out and about'.  I've been clean since then. 3 whole days. My Daddy says that its ok to have a glass a day or so.  It's all about moderation and stuff.   I'm just honoring my father, right?  By listening to his advice and being obedient.  Right?  

Last night I had a dream about my Grandparent's house.  But it wasn't really their house, it was missing all the beauty and grace of my Grandmother's touch.  And the layout was all wrong.  In dreams, though, things don't have to work right.  It was my Grandparent's house and you were there, you were taking a nap.   Thank you, Dad, for making me love naps.   On Saturday we were driving around north of our house looking at houses.  We got our car stuck in the mud because apparently our SUV is lacking in the utility and sport departments.  We had to call Uncle Heezy (Scott) to come and yank us out with a chain.  This was not for lack of trying to wiggle out on our part.  We also saw a radio tower, as in ham radio, and Eric said "Hey, your Dad would like it up here because there's a radio tower."  And I laughed. Thank you, Dad, for teaching me to notice things besides my own problems and then to laugh. I appreciate other things you've given me, althoug

Peek-a-boo! --- 4fer fit roundup: Craving: Haven't really had one in particular this week, probably because the house has cupcakes and banana bread and chips all over the place. Kinda cuts down on the "I wish I hads"... Indulgence: My sister and I had a conversation about whether or not the Super Bowl constituted a suitable Dr. Pepper treat occassion. She advised me to stay strong. Ray, aka Uncle Row, didn't get the memo and brought me some for the Big Game. So, I've been dragging behind the wagon this week. I'm not upset about it though because I didn't purchase any more and once it runs out (that's right, it has lasted the whole week til today) I don't plan to stop at the store. All things in moderation, and my whole goal was really to have Dr Pepper be a treat and not a staple so I think I'm on track. (My Dad would call this RATIONALIZATION. ) Landmark: I got new glasses and took some self portraits to get an objective, non mirror, opinion o

I'm grateful I learned to love , because everything compared to that emotion seems pale and lifeless. Like yesterday when I was sitting in the chair with Eric and snuggling, I could feel his heart beating and smell that good smell that belongs specifically to his neck, and feel the warmth of being alive all around us. And I just loved him so much that my heart wanted to burst wide open, and I felt safe. I'm grateful that I learned to laugh , because even if it's sometimes too loud and sometimes too forced it still heals up those broken parts inside me. Like today when Carly looked at her glove and said "It keeps flopping" and it sounded a lot more like she said "its keeps f...ing." And while that might not seem funny at the outset, when you imagine that word coming out in Carly's little tiny girl voice and then making the connection that it was flopping all along - well, that's good stuff. I'm grateful I learned to touch , because I can't

No, it's not a random square of blue. That is the New Mexico blue sky from back in November. I stepped out of the car, looked up with the camera, and snapped a shot of the never-ending-expanse so that I'd be able to look at it later. The sky in Michigan is actually blue today (and yesterday, which must be some kind of record). If you don't go outside, you can pretend for a moment that you are cozy warm and that the air won't bite. But once you step outside, reality steps in and pierces through all the layers you put on (or didn't put on in foolish haste). And now, since Carly is industriously engaged in drinking water from a random thimble she found, I'm going to let one Gordon B. Hinckley say what I wanted to say about the changing skies of life, about getting through the winter, about looking up to live. "We know not what lies ahead of us. We know not what the coming days will bring. We live in a world of uncertainty. For some, there will be great accomp

So I'm learning a few things this go round. Like that it really is much harder when the person who dies lives with you. Because then you still smell them. You still listen for the "shuffle shuffle" footsteps. You still think that your kids need to quiet down so that they don't wake up Poppa. You see a giant void at the dinner table. And you feel the gaping hole in the too-big house. Can you tell that Eric went back to work today? It was my first day home alone with Carly, my first day of real life. I feel incredibly selfish, because it's not my Dad that died and so maybe it shouldn't be quite so hard for me to just deal with it. But, holy cow, the emptiness hurts. And when you add in the pressing concerns about just how we're going to make our new budget work, it only compounds the pain and confusion. We weren't ready for this. When we told Eric's Dad to stay forever, we meant that literally. Less than 2 years was never even a though

Actual conversation with myself this morning in my room: "If I just sit here on my bed long enough, we'll miss church. And if we don't go to church then Eric can't take Charlotte to the airport. And then she has to stay here. So I'm just not going to get dressed." No lie. And then, when I finally came to the conclusion that sitting in my room wouldn't change anything, we went to church. And the closing song was "God Be With You Til We Meet Again." I think we actually scared a small child, weeping and wailing all over each other.