I confess. My favorite tv show is Biggest Loser. For a lot of reasons.
Today, Princess J told me that I should go on Biggest Loser so I could lose all my weight.
I realize that children live in a different paradigm, and I realize that I'm not the trim, fit person I want to be right now, but ... does she really think that I look similar to the people on that show? Mind you, I wasn't watching the season finale, where the contestants have been transformed into amazing body-building machines -- we're still on week 6 or 7.
Thanks Princess J. I'll remember that the next time I crave m&m's.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Ward Temple Day
Tomorrow is Ward Temple Day. And I'm going. I'm committing now.
2011 is a great year for firsts!!
2011 is a great year for firsts!!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Happiness Is ...
Happiness is ...
Eating lunch in the school lunchroom with my kidlets...bringing their favorite treat (in bite size portions) and watching them share the treat with their friends.
And Happiness is ...
Seeing the smile on their faces... and knowing the dishes are all worth it...
Eating lunch in the school lunchroom with my kidlets...bringing their favorite treat (in bite size portions) and watching them share the treat with their friends.
And Happiness is ...
Seeing the smile on their faces... and knowing the dishes are all worth it...
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Tiaras and Rat Poison
There is a man I wish you all could know. Someday, I want to post a picture of him ... If I ever figure out how
Tuesday night, he stopped at my house and dropped off a ziploc baggie with red rat poison, and my daughter's carefully glued tiara.
A strange combination, but it was about the sweetest thing anyone could have done at that moment.
His name is Hal. He's served in at least two different bishoprics, and has been young men's president numerous times. He's been on the high council and probably just about every other calling in the church. But his favorite calling ... is Sunbeam Teacher or Nursery Leader. He and his wife were fabulous. Their primary kids called them Brother Howell and Sister Howell. Their official last names start with A, but it's just too hard for a 4 year old to pronounce "Hal," you know.
I am blessed to have Brother Howell as my home teacher.
He and his companion come every month. They ask every month, "Is there anything we can do to help?" And, while I know that the question is sincere, I rarely can think of anything.
But he doesn't let that stop him.
I was gone one weekend, and came home to find all of my yard work done. He spent most of Saturday working in my yard. He mowed my lawn, cleared off the garden, trimmed everything and then hauled it away. It looked beautiful. It was a monumental task, but he never admitted it was him. I had to bribe my neighbors to tell me who was responsible for the kindness.
I didn't ask for help. I didn't mention how overwhelmed I was at trying to keep up the yard. He just noticed.
Several weeks later, when the garden produce was all harvested, I finished piling up all the vines, cornstalks, and weeds from the garden on a Friday afternoon. I piled them in the backyard, and that night, I wondered how I was going to fit all that green waste into my van to haul it away.
Saturday afternoon, I returned from running some errands, and that garden waste was all gone. completely gone. Brother Howell had been driving by that afternoon, noticed the piles, and hauled them off for me.
I was amazed that someone would be so aware. The garden mess hadn't been sitting there for 24 hours, yet, he noticed it was ready to be hauled to the dump.
A month later, he showed up with a sling on his arm. He'd been having problems with his shoulder. When the pain finally got bad enough, he finally went to the doctor, and was told that the shoulder needed surgery.
His shoulder needed surgery, and yet, he cleared off my garden, mowed my lawn. Pulled my weeds. And then disappeared. He had his own yard work to do, livestock to care for, family to love.
A month or two later, I heard a sound in my ceiling. It was a fluttering sound. I thought it was birds that might have flown in through a vent. So I talked to Brother Howell. (He raises birds.) I was hoping we could rescue the bird that I thought was stuck in the rafters. Brother Howell came over that afternoon, looked at my house, and pronounced his verdict: the sounds were not caused by birds. It was mice. He left, only to return with a bucket of rat poison.
So Sunday, he came for his monthly visit. He talked to the children-told them to prepare to go on a mission. And during the conversation, it came up that Princess J's tiara (her Christmas present) had a piece that had broken off. He took the tiara, and the piece, determined to try to solder it together.
Soldering didn't work, but a combination of two different glues did. It took him 2 days to fix it.
The rat poison was to make sure the mice didn't return.
That's service!! A simple statement, but there's no other way to describe what he has done for my family.
In basketball, they teach you to keep your weight on your toes, hands up, reflexes poised, ready to intercept the pass or drive the lane. How do you teach someone to be prepared to serve with such quick response time?
He would humbly deflect any attention. But he truly is a remarkable man.
Just like an athlete, who's muscles are trained to know the feel of the ball, calculate the precise amount of force (and aim) to make the basket, Brother Howell has trained his eyes to notice what is around him, and he's prepared his heart to serve.
I want to be like Brother Howell someday.
Tuesday night, he stopped at my house and dropped off a ziploc baggie with red rat poison, and my daughter's carefully glued tiara.
A strange combination, but it was about the sweetest thing anyone could have done at that moment.
His name is Hal. He's served in at least two different bishoprics, and has been young men's president numerous times. He's been on the high council and probably just about every other calling in the church. But his favorite calling ... is Sunbeam Teacher or Nursery Leader. He and his wife were fabulous. Their primary kids called them Brother Howell and Sister Howell. Their official last names start with A, but it's just too hard for a 4 year old to pronounce "Hal," you know.
I am blessed to have Brother Howell as my home teacher.
He and his companion come every month. They ask every month, "Is there anything we can do to help?" And, while I know that the question is sincere, I rarely can think of anything.
But he doesn't let that stop him.
I was gone one weekend, and came home to find all of my yard work done. He spent most of Saturday working in my yard. He mowed my lawn, cleared off the garden, trimmed everything and then hauled it away. It looked beautiful. It was a monumental task, but he never admitted it was him. I had to bribe my neighbors to tell me who was responsible for the kindness.
I didn't ask for help. I didn't mention how overwhelmed I was at trying to keep up the yard. He just noticed.
Several weeks later, when the garden produce was all harvested, I finished piling up all the vines, cornstalks, and weeds from the garden on a Friday afternoon. I piled them in the backyard, and that night, I wondered how I was going to fit all that green waste into my van to haul it away.
Saturday afternoon, I returned from running some errands, and that garden waste was all gone. completely gone. Brother Howell had been driving by that afternoon, noticed the piles, and hauled them off for me.
I was amazed that someone would be so aware. The garden mess hadn't been sitting there for 24 hours, yet, he noticed it was ready to be hauled to the dump.
A month later, he showed up with a sling on his arm. He'd been having problems with his shoulder. When the pain finally got bad enough, he finally went to the doctor, and was told that the shoulder needed surgery.
His shoulder needed surgery, and yet, he cleared off my garden, mowed my lawn. Pulled my weeds. And then disappeared. He had his own yard work to do, livestock to care for, family to love.
A month or two later, I heard a sound in my ceiling. It was a fluttering sound. I thought it was birds that might have flown in through a vent. So I talked to Brother Howell. (He raises birds.) I was hoping we could rescue the bird that I thought was stuck in the rafters. Brother Howell came over that afternoon, looked at my house, and pronounced his verdict: the sounds were not caused by birds. It was mice. He left, only to return with a bucket of rat poison.
So Sunday, he came for his monthly visit. He talked to the children-told them to prepare to go on a mission. And during the conversation, it came up that Princess J's tiara (her Christmas present) had a piece that had broken off. He took the tiara, and the piece, determined to try to solder it together.
Soldering didn't work, but a combination of two different glues did. It took him 2 days to fix it.
The rat poison was to make sure the mice didn't return.
That's service!! A simple statement, but there's no other way to describe what he has done for my family.
In basketball, they teach you to keep your weight on your toes, hands up, reflexes poised, ready to intercept the pass or drive the lane. How do you teach someone to be prepared to serve with such quick response time?
He would humbly deflect any attention. But he truly is a remarkable man.
Just like an athlete, who's muscles are trained to know the feel of the ball, calculate the precise amount of force (and aim) to make the basket, Brother Howell has trained his eyes to notice what is around him, and he's prepared his heart to serve.
I want to be like Brother Howell someday.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
My Sister
Dear Sis --
I was in the attic today, and found a box that I didn't recognize. I opened it, to find my most treasured possessions from when I was "a little girl." It had my sticker collection that I spent years accumulating and trading. It had my journal that I started when I was 8. It had my high school year books. All "stuff" that I attached happy, special memories to.
As I was sifting through letters Mom wrote me for various occasions, I found an envelope from you. On the front, in your perfect handwriting, it just said, "With Love." From the looks of the handwriting, you were probably in 4th grade or so.
It was an ordinary little envelope. The cards inside were 3x5 cards -- 'cuz that's what Mom always had on hand.
Inside, this is what it said: (Spelling has been preserved here...)
Card #1
J's New Cupon Book
Card #2:
Always have to clean the Bathroom?
This cupon good for...
1 week of cleaning the Bathroom
Card #3:
Sometimes you get lazy and knowone will do favors for you.
The cupon good for 33 favors.
Expirers
33 Favors
Card #4:
Do you have things that are unorganixzed or things you just don't want to put away?
Organize things for 3 weeks
1 Exceptoin
You have to tell me where things go.
Expires
3 weeks
Card #5:
Hate rincing? I don't blame you!
The cupon is good for...
good for... O, um 4 days of ...
... me rincing the dishes for you.
(gulp) (Just kiding)
1 expetion
Excpet on Sundays
Expireers
When you have used this for 4 days
Card #6:
Have a unmade bed problem?
Make your bed for two weeks
Excpire Date
in three weeks
I sat in the cold attic and laughed and cried over this little card.
I was awed by the sense of humor you had:
-- 33 Favors -- 39 Flavors. Very Funny.
-- Exception: No rinsing dishes on Sunday.
Do you remember how much we all hated dish duty on Sundays? We were convinced that Mom did Sunday dinners just to torture us at the sink afterwards.
It was written on 3x5 cards, because that is what Mom had around. I'm sure you loved paper then, but probably didn't have access to the beautiful stuff you truly love now. I wonder how long you hunted for pretty paper before you gave up and used the lined cards Mom kept stocked in her desk drawer.
I wondered if I really appreciated your fun personality, way back when.
Because, if you were spelling "coupon" as "cupon" you couldn't really have been all that old. I hope I was nice to you. I hope I wasn't the proverbial older sister that was too cool for you. I fear I might have.
You've probably long since forgotten even creating that "cupon book." What I want you to notice is where I found your envelope. It was in my box of treasures. My very special treasures. Carefully saved for 20+ years. I never wanted to forget it. Your "cupon book" moved me then. It moved me today.
I don't know if I ever officially "redeemed" those cupons. But over the years, you have fulfilled those cupons many times over. You've done my dishes more times than I could count. And I don't ever remember you invoking the Sunday exception clause. You've come to organize my stuff when I couldn't do it. You've brought me meals when I forgot to eat. You've stopped in just to say hello.
You tucked a beautiful calendar in my bag to remind me of my new beautiful life.
33 Favors has turned into a lifetime of love.
Thanks for being such a good sis.
I love you.
I was in the attic today, and found a box that I didn't recognize. I opened it, to find my most treasured possessions from when I was "a little girl." It had my sticker collection that I spent years accumulating and trading. It had my journal that I started when I was 8. It had my high school year books. All "stuff" that I attached happy, special memories to.
As I was sifting through letters Mom wrote me for various occasions, I found an envelope from you. On the front, in your perfect handwriting, it just said, "With Love." From the looks of the handwriting, you were probably in 4th grade or so.
It was an ordinary little envelope. The cards inside were 3x5 cards -- 'cuz that's what Mom always had on hand.
Inside, this is what it said: (Spelling has been preserved here...)
Card #1
J's New Cupon Book
Card #2:
Always have to clean the Bathroom?
This cupon good for...
1 week of cleaning the Bathroom
Card #3:
Sometimes you get lazy and knowone will do favors for you.
The cupon good for 33 favors.
Expirers
33 Favors
Card #4:
Do you have things that are unorganixzed or things you just don't want to put away?
Organize things for 3 weeks
1 Exceptoin
You have to tell me where things go.
Expires
3 weeks
Card #5:
Hate rincing? I don't blame you!
The cupon is good for...
good for... O, um 4 days of ...
... me rincing the dishes for you.
(gulp) (Just kiding)
1 expetion
Excpet on Sundays
Expireers
When you have used this for 4 days
Card #6:
Have a unmade bed problem?
Make your bed for two weeks
Excpire Date
in three weeks
I sat in the cold attic and laughed and cried over this little card.
I was awed by the sense of humor you had:
-- 33 Favors -- 39 Flavors. Very Funny.
-- Exception: No rinsing dishes on Sunday.
Do you remember how much we all hated dish duty on Sundays? We were convinced that Mom did Sunday dinners just to torture us at the sink afterwards.
It was written on 3x5 cards, because that is what Mom had around. I'm sure you loved paper then, but probably didn't have access to the beautiful stuff you truly love now. I wonder how long you hunted for pretty paper before you gave up and used the lined cards Mom kept stocked in her desk drawer.
I wondered if I really appreciated your fun personality, way back when.
Because, if you were spelling "coupon" as "cupon" you couldn't really have been all that old. I hope I was nice to you. I hope I wasn't the proverbial older sister that was too cool for you. I fear I might have.
You've probably long since forgotten even creating that "cupon book." What I want you to notice is where I found your envelope. It was in my box of treasures. My very special treasures. Carefully saved for 20+ years. I never wanted to forget it. Your "cupon book" moved me then. It moved me today.
I don't know if I ever officially "redeemed" those cupons. But over the years, you have fulfilled those cupons many times over. You've done my dishes more times than I could count. And I don't ever remember you invoking the Sunday exception clause. You've come to organize my stuff when I couldn't do it. You've brought me meals when I forgot to eat. You've stopped in just to say hello.
You tucked a beautiful calendar in my bag to remind me of my new beautiful life.
33 Favors has turned into a lifetime of love.
Thanks for being such a good sis.
I love you.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Chemistry and Math
Does anyone happen to know how much 1 TBL of citric acid weighs in ounces?
Random question, I know. I'm trying figure out the cost of a specific recipe.
Random question, I know. I'm trying figure out the cost of a specific recipe.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Chess and Wishes
Do you ever feel like you are living a game of chess? Hopefully not. If you do, my heart goes out to you. My emerging life is tender, fragile and lovely, but many times, I feel like it is an ongoing game of chess. I never learned to play chess ... I never really liked it. I didn't want to play it for fun back then, I don't want to continue playing it for the rest of my life now.
Since it is still January, can I make some New Year's Wishes?
1. I wish I could eliminate the game of chess from my life.
2. I wish others valued honor, trust and character as much as I do.
3. I wish love and sacrifice were hallowed words.
4. I wish I had a magic wand.
It all comes down to that principle of "agency." Sometimes I find myself wondering if I really voted for agency. And if I did, did I really know what it would entail? Because many time, I'd prefer to make the decisions for others.
PS. I'm not bitter ... really I'm not. I'm just processing.
Since it is still January, can I make some New Year's Wishes?
1. I wish I could eliminate the game of chess from my life.
2. I wish others valued honor, trust and character as much as I do.
3. I wish love and sacrifice were hallowed words.
4. I wish I had a magic wand.
It all comes down to that principle of "agency." Sometimes I find myself wondering if I really voted for agency. And if I did, did I really know what it would entail? Because many time, I'd prefer to make the decisions for others.
PS. I'm not bitter ... really I'm not. I'm just processing.
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