Yesterday I was reading something that referred to Moroni's Promise and it made me think back on my own personal "Book of Mormon conversion." (You'll have to forgive me for not knowing what I was reading. In addition to the Book of Mormon, I'm also in the middle of a book about understanding Isaiah, two issues of The Ensign, and a handful of issues of The Friend. Needless to say, my spot at the table is a big, enormous, crazy, chaotic, wonderful mess.) I'm not sure I have recorded this particular experience anywhere, mostly due to the fact that journaling at twelve is an entirely different beast from journaling at thirty-four. ("And I was like . . . And he was like . . . And her outfit was totally . . .") So being reminded of the experience, I thought I would take the chance to write it down, and in doing so, share it will all of you.
When I was twelve, all my friends were in the midst of discovering that the Book of Mormon is true. Every Sunday in church, someone different would share their experience, usually while crying the tears of the newly converted. These experiences were of the overwhelming, life changing type. And I would sit and listen and wonder what I was doing wrong because I didn't have any big, wonderful experiences to share.
After a while, I determined to really and truly focus on knowing if the Book of Mormon was true. If I needed to have one of those wondrous experiences in order to know, I wanted to have it. So one day I brought the question to the Lord. The answer I received was immediate, very clear, and much simpler than I had ever expected. There were no burning bushes, no thinning of veils, no overwhelming of mind and body. The answer was simply, "You already know."
Over the years, that simple and concise answer has become a pattern in my life. On numerous days of life-changing decision (such as which college to attend, whether to go on a mission or continue my schooling, whether Kev was the one I should marry), the answer has been exactly the same: "You already know."
In retrospect, I learned three very important things that day when I was twelve. First, I learned that spiritual experiences are not "one size fits all." These experiences are as varied as the individuals to whom they come. Second, I learned that by trying to live every day in accordance with the gospel, the Spirit is in fact guiding me, whispering to me, directing me every day of my life. He is my constant companion, not just a visitor on those all important "days of asking." Third, I learned that the Lord trusts me much more than I trust myself. By telling me that I already know the answer, the Lord is assuring me that I've kept Him in mind all along and that I'm on the right path. He doesn't doubt me, but I frequently doubt myself. What better reminder not to second guess myself than to tell me that I actually do know what I'm doing and that my choices are okay?
"Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise." (Alma 37:6)
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Monday, July 14, 2008
Aaugh!
I began today thinking it would be a pretty mellow day. I only had two tasks on my to do list: make bread and wash the towels. So after breakfast I made the bread, two batches because I've discovered that if I use the quick-rise method for the first and the traditional-rise method with the second I can complete two batches in the time it normally takes me to do one. While the bread was rising and baking, I washed three loads of towels. I figured that after lunch I could fold the towels and then have at least an hour or two to relax and read a book.
Assuming that relaxation could happen on a Monday seems to have been a critical error.
At about 12:30, I got Matthew his lunch and then got lunch for the rest of us while he was eating. Two bites into my sandwich, I heard the sound that signifies a very unpleasant diaper change. But it wasn't until I stood up and walked over to check things out that I realized just how unpleasant. Matthew was literally sitting in a puddle of poop. A big puddle. At that point, all thoughts of a lazy afternoon went right out the window.
I carried Matthew (very gingerly by the armpits) and stood him in the tub, at which point he started screaming. I stripped him down, rinsed him off, cleaned out the tub, bathed Matthew, got him dry and dressed, and swabbed out the tub with a clorox wipe (knowing I would need to scrub it later). Then I rinsed out his clothes (knowing I would need to scrub the sink as well), during which time I heard the buzzer on the washer go off and thought, "Oh good. I can throw these clothes right in the washer." So I finished rinsing the clothes, washed my hands, and went to put the wet towels into the dryer. However, when I opened the washer door, I discovered that a throw pillow I had chucked in with the towels had burst open in the washing machine.
At that point I nearly sat down and cried, but I figured I really didn't have time for that since there was still a high chair full of poop to take care of.
Two plastic grocery bags full of fiber fill later, I chucked the furry towels in the to-be-washed-again-later pile and put Matthew's clothes in the washer. Then I attacked the high chair. Halfway through, I ran out of Clorox wipes. So I hauled out the Scunci steam cleaner (which I got brand new for $5!) and kept on going. Once the chair was clean and soaking in a pleasant bleach disinfectant, I took out the garbage, got Matthew and Nathan down for a nap and finally ate my lunch. It was 2:00.
After lunch I cleaned the bathroom. I figured that since I was already cleaning the tub and the sink I might as well do the whole thing. Then I cleaned up lunch, wiped down the high chair for the final time, and switched the laundry . . . again. On a positive note, the combination of Shout and OxyClean is like a laundry miracle! All Matthew's clothes came clean the first time!
So here is a rundown of what I've done on my lazy Monday: I've made eight loaves of bread, done five loads of laundry (with two more to go), steam cleaned the high chair, cleaned the bathroom, bathed the baby, and in thirty minutes I'll have to think about making dinner. Total number of pages read: 0.
It is definitely Monday . . . with a vengeance.
Assuming that relaxation could happen on a Monday seems to have been a critical error.
At about 12:30, I got Matthew his lunch and then got lunch for the rest of us while he was eating. Two bites into my sandwich, I heard the sound that signifies a very unpleasant diaper change. But it wasn't until I stood up and walked over to check things out that I realized just how unpleasant. Matthew was literally sitting in a puddle of poop. A big puddle. At that point, all thoughts of a lazy afternoon went right out the window.
I carried Matthew (very gingerly by the armpits) and stood him in the tub, at which point he started screaming. I stripped him down, rinsed him off, cleaned out the tub, bathed Matthew, got him dry and dressed, and swabbed out the tub with a clorox wipe (knowing I would need to scrub it later). Then I rinsed out his clothes (knowing I would need to scrub the sink as well), during which time I heard the buzzer on the washer go off and thought, "Oh good. I can throw these clothes right in the washer." So I finished rinsing the clothes, washed my hands, and went to put the wet towels into the dryer. However, when I opened the washer door, I discovered that a throw pillow I had chucked in with the towels had burst open in the washing machine.
At that point I nearly sat down and cried, but I figured I really didn't have time for that since there was still a high chair full of poop to take care of.
Two plastic grocery bags full of fiber fill later, I chucked the furry towels in the to-be-washed-again-later pile and put Matthew's clothes in the washer. Then I attacked the high chair. Halfway through, I ran out of Clorox wipes. So I hauled out the Scunci steam cleaner (which I got brand new for $5!) and kept on going. Once the chair was clean and soaking in a pleasant bleach disinfectant, I took out the garbage, got Matthew and Nathan down for a nap and finally ate my lunch. It was 2:00.
After lunch I cleaned the bathroom. I figured that since I was already cleaning the tub and the sink I might as well do the whole thing. Then I cleaned up lunch, wiped down the high chair for the final time, and switched the laundry . . . again. On a positive note, the combination of Shout and OxyClean is like a laundry miracle! All Matthew's clothes came clean the first time!
So here is a rundown of what I've done on my lazy Monday: I've made eight loaves of bread, done five loads of laundry (with two more to go), steam cleaned the high chair, cleaned the bathroom, bathed the baby, and in thirty minutes I'll have to think about making dinner. Total number of pages read: 0.
It is definitely Monday . . . with a vengeance.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Ingenuity
Matthew is a shorty. He is also a smarty-farty pants, which means that he is already coming up with creative ways to get around his lack of stature. Here is the result of today's brainstorm.
The Set-up
The First Step
Almost There
The Home Stretch
Mighty Pleased
The Set-up
The First Step
Almost There
The Home Stretch
Mighty PleasedAnd yes. That is a jar of butt paste. It says so right on the label. And it is the best diaper rash ointment we have ever used.
Monday, July 7, 2008
The Teething Beast
Matthew is cutting a new molar and unlike the first three, which kind of snuck up on me, I'm completely aware of this one. And I wish it would sneak faster.
Matthew has been an absolute beast for about four days now. He screams all the time and wants to be held nonstop. He isn't interested in playing. He hasn't been eating much, which is different for him. And when he does eat, he is pickier than ever. We have taken to slapping on the Anbesol at the same time as the bib just to get him to put something in his mouth. If we don't, he puts the first bite in and then sits there and cries, mouth wide open, food still in it. By Sunday, even the Anbesol wasn't working. Matthew just cried and cried. I spent all of sacrament meeting standing in the hall. At home, he wouldn't even sit in the high chair. He threw a huge fit when we chucked him in there. Kev couldn't even hold him, which is strange since he is usually a daddy's boy. And he wouldn't eat anything, not even Otter Pops, which is definitely saying something! He hadn't eaten all day, so I finally sat him in my lap with the baby-smorgasbord (Cheerios, Kix, graham crackers, the freeze-dried fruit bits he loves, etc.) on the table in front of us. And he screamed. Loudly. For at least ten minutes. Then he finally gave in to his hunger and ate. Two meals we did this. Screaming included both times. He may be mischievous on a normal day, but I much prefer trying to keep him out of the garbage can (full of poisonous yogurt containers and egg shells) than dealing with the endless wailing. If only general anesthetic was available to the public . . .
This must be punishment for not noticing the arrival of the first three molars.
Matthew has been an absolute beast for about four days now. He screams all the time and wants to be held nonstop. He isn't interested in playing. He hasn't been eating much, which is different for him. And when he does eat, he is pickier than ever. We have taken to slapping on the Anbesol at the same time as the bib just to get him to put something in his mouth. If we don't, he puts the first bite in and then sits there and cries, mouth wide open, food still in it. By Sunday, even the Anbesol wasn't working. Matthew just cried and cried. I spent all of sacrament meeting standing in the hall. At home, he wouldn't even sit in the high chair. He threw a huge fit when we chucked him in there. Kev couldn't even hold him, which is strange since he is usually a daddy's boy. And he wouldn't eat anything, not even Otter Pops, which is definitely saying something! He hadn't eaten all day, so I finally sat him in my lap with the baby-smorgasbord (Cheerios, Kix, graham crackers, the freeze-dried fruit bits he loves, etc.) on the table in front of us. And he screamed. Loudly. For at least ten minutes. Then he finally gave in to his hunger and ate. Two meals we did this. Screaming included both times. He may be mischievous on a normal day, but I much prefer trying to keep him out of the garbage can (full of poisonous yogurt containers and egg shells) than dealing with the endless wailing. If only general anesthetic was available to the public . . .
This must be punishment for not noticing the arrival of the first three molars.
Mmmm! Pancakes!
When I make Matthew friendly pancakes, the kind with soy milk and no eggs, I usually make a bunch and then stash them in the freezer. Then when we make regular pancakes for everyone else, we can just pull one out of the freezer for Matthew. I have found this is much nicer than trying to make two kinds of pancakes at once, and since soy milk is more expensive than regular milk (I know. That's a bit hard to do with milk prices as high as they are.), it is also more cost effective than feeding soy milk pancakes to everyone.
When I was digging around in the freezer this afternoon looking for chicken, the last pancake happened to fall out. Matthew, being completely convinced that he is in immediate danger of starving to death, grabbed the pancake. I figured he could eat it for dinner. But he resisted putting it on the counter. I believe the correct word to describe the sound he made is "shriek." He carried it around with him. After a while, one edge of the ziplock bag tore, creating a perfect handle. And presto! Pancake purse.
After carrying the purse for a while, Matthew became determined to get the pancake out. He is, after all, wasting away before my very eyes.
He tried everything, with no success, at last resorting to begging of the worst kind . . . the puppydog eyes.
Now there is a look that only a mean, mean momma like me can resist. He can have the pancake for dinner. Besides, it will be defrosted by then.
When I was digging around in the freezer this afternoon looking for chicken, the last pancake happened to fall out. Matthew, being completely convinced that he is in immediate danger of starving to death, grabbed the pancake. I figured he could eat it for dinner. But he resisted putting it on the counter. I believe the correct word to describe the sound he made is "shriek." He carried it around with him. After a while, one edge of the ziplock bag tore, creating a perfect handle. And presto! Pancake purse.
After carrying the purse for a while, Matthew became determined to get the pancake out. He is, after all, wasting away before my very eyes.
He tried everything, with no success, at last resorting to begging of the worst kind . . . the puppydog eyes.
Now there is a look that only a mean, mean momma like me can resist. He can have the pancake for dinner. Besides, it will be defrosted by then.
Freeze Tag
I don't always respond to "tags" from my bloggin' buddies (Sorry about that! Sometimes I just don't care!), but as I've read everyone's responses to this particular one it really made me think about what I want out of my life right now. I've been tagged by Kathie, so here it is . . .
Name 5 goals and the places you've lived, then tag 4 other people:
Some of my current goals:
1. I want to really and truly spend more time with my kids. Yes, I am a stay-at-home-mom who spends every waking hour with my kids. But it is not all quality time. My goal is to make at least some of that time positive, quality time with my kids. Not just constant parallel-play time.
2. As a huge plan-in-advancer, I sometimes have trouble when things don't go exactly as planned. As a result, I often struggle with accepting the Lord's plan for me. So goal #2 is to try to let go of my OCD long enough to let the Lord guide my life . . . and to be okay with the direction He sends me.
3. I am currently in the process of organizing all the piles of stuff all over my house. I want to have at least a tidy home. I'm realistic enough not to expect perfection with three children in the house, but I at least want to have a "home" for all my stuff. Dumping it all on my desk is not the same as putting it away!
4. Patience. With everyone. And everything (see #2). Especially my children. They deserve that.
5. Debt. Enough said.
These are the places I've lived:
Provo, UT (with an aunt and uncle until I was three weeks old)
Newport, Rhode Island
Athens, Georgia
Okefenoku, Georgia
Bremerton, Washington (in a Presbyterian Manse)
Bremerton, Washington (in Navy housing)
Escondido, CA
San Miguel, The Phillipines )in a house right on the beach)
Subic Bay, The Phillipines (in Navy housing)
Pleasant Grove, UT (while waiting to find a home in Salt Lake)
Taylorsville, UT (where my parents still live)
Orem, UT (with an aunt and uncle my freshman year at BYU)
Provo, UT (basement apartment)
Provo, UT (house)
Kearns, UT (the duplex Kev and I rented when we were first married)
Taylorsville, UT (with Kev's parents)
West Jordan, UT
Murray, UT
Now tag to four wonderful people (if you care, that is!):
Patti, Esther, Tiffany, Lisa
Name 5 goals and the places you've lived, then tag 4 other people:
Some of my current goals:
1. I want to really and truly spend more time with my kids. Yes, I am a stay-at-home-mom who spends every waking hour with my kids. But it is not all quality time. My goal is to make at least some of that time positive, quality time with my kids. Not just constant parallel-play time.
2. As a huge plan-in-advancer, I sometimes have trouble when things don't go exactly as planned. As a result, I often struggle with accepting the Lord's plan for me. So goal #2 is to try to let go of my OCD long enough to let the Lord guide my life . . . and to be okay with the direction He sends me.
3. I am currently in the process of organizing all the piles of stuff all over my house. I want to have at least a tidy home. I'm realistic enough not to expect perfection with three children in the house, but I at least want to have a "home" for all my stuff. Dumping it all on my desk is not the same as putting it away!
4. Patience. With everyone. And everything (see #2). Especially my children. They deserve that.
5. Debt. Enough said.
These are the places I've lived:
Provo, UT (with an aunt and uncle until I was three weeks old)
Newport, Rhode Island
Athens, Georgia
Okefenoku, Georgia
Bremerton, Washington (in a Presbyterian Manse)
Bremerton, Washington (in Navy housing)
Escondido, CA
San Miguel, The Phillipines )in a house right on the beach)
Subic Bay, The Phillipines (in Navy housing)
Pleasant Grove, UT (while waiting to find a home in Salt Lake)
Taylorsville, UT (where my parents still live)
Orem, UT (with an aunt and uncle my freshman year at BYU)
Provo, UT (basement apartment)
Provo, UT (house)
Kearns, UT (the duplex Kev and I rented when we were first married)
Taylorsville, UT (with Kev's parents)
West Jordan, UT
Murray, UT
Now tag to four wonderful people (if you care, that is!):
Patti, Esther, Tiffany, Lisa
Friday, July 4, 2008
Freedom . . .
is what it's all about.
All Hail The Ground Bloom Flower!
Matthew learns about poppers.
All Hail The Ground Bloom Flower!
Matthew learns about poppers.
Proud to be an American!
Matthew's Face: Red, White, and Blue For the Holiday
Still A Bit Nervous
GleeWednesday, July 2, 2008
Patriotism
I love holidays. I know. Duh. Almost everyone loves holidays. But seriously, not only do I love spending a little extra time with my family celebrating an assortment of great blessings we have in our lives, I also love that Daniel and Nathan get so excited about holidays that it is easy to get them interested in a holiday themed project that keeps them occupied. (oc·cu·py transitive verb oc·cu·pied, oc·cu·py·ing, oc·cu·pies 1: to engage the attention or energies of, 2: to prevent arguing, quarreling, or bickering, 3: to eradicate exclamations of boredom, 3: to eliminate the ability to drive everyone in a two mile radius completely crazy. ex. Daniel and Nathan were occupied.)
This particular project was especially easy for me. All I had to do was supply red, white and blue construction paper, scissors, and some glue and the boys did the rest.
This is what they came up with:
And I had an hour of peace and quiet. No screaming or yelling. No fighting or bickering. No crying or whining.
I love holidays.
This particular project was especially easy for me. All I had to do was supply red, white and blue construction paper, scissors, and some glue and the boys did the rest.
This is what they came up with:
And I had an hour of peace and quiet. No screaming or yelling. No fighting or bickering. No crying or whining. I love holidays.
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