Grateful for Relief Society

I love Relief Society. It's not the organization so much as the sisterhood. What a blessing to have a group of women who love and support you, who share in your joys and sorrows. As a woman, I am so grateful to have the Relief Society. As a man, my husband is grateful, too. He recognizes my need to have the association of other women. In fact, he's a bit jealous. He's seen the bond that we have. Not that men aren't great, but it's just not the same. I'm grateful that Heavenly Father reminds me every now and then how truly blessed I am to have these women, you women in my life.
A couple weeks ago, we had our RS birthday party and dinner. I was asked, along with several other women, to share something about Relief Society. (Specifically, I was to tell how Relief Society means integrity.) As I prayed about what to share, (integrity?), I kept having one experience come to mind. I didn't think it was a big deal and wasn't sure I wanted to tell that. But, the feeling remained, so I did. Here's what I shared.
I believe that part of what integrity means it to do what you are asked or what you have committed to do. Relief Society presidents have a difficult job, being responisble for the welfare of all these other women. I had a president years ago who did this job especially well. Lara really went above and beyond when it came to her calling. While she was the president, we were going through a difficult finacial struggle. There was one evening when I had made potato soup for dinner. I make it all the time, it's one of the few meals that everyone likes. Well, this night, I scorched it. I'd never done this before, or since. I was standing in my kitchen, unsure of what to do. There was a knock on my front door, and when I opened it, there was Lara. She handed me a pizza. No explanation that I can recall, she didn't even wait for me to tell her if there was a reason for the pizza. Now, we all get inspiration, but how often do we pass it off as our own thoughts? I know I have. I wonder if I was walking through Wal-Mart and got the thought to buy a pizza for someone, would I do it? After this experience, I would. I felt like this was such a great example of someone doing what they are called to do.
I shared this and had several people thank me for sharing it. OK, I thought I had chosen the right experience. Well, then an interesting thing happened. A couple days after our birthday dinner, I was at our YW president's house for a presidency meeting. We were talking about this experience and Mandy (president) said, "Maybe you scorched the soup so Heavenly Father could show you that He's aware of you and what you need."
Oh. Wow.
And, maybe He wanted me to share this experience so He could teach me what I'd missed all along. How can we doubt that He'll be there for us during times of trial and heartache, if He's there when we need something as small as a pizza to feed our family.
I am so grateful for Relief Society. For the women who act as His hands in blessing me, whether it's by bringing me dinner, or giving me insight that I sorely need. Angels without wings, that's what you are.

A Wise Investment

One used trampoline- $50.00

Cost to repair/re-enforce jump pad- $60.00

Having an answer to the phrase, "Mom, I'm bored."- Priceless

Weren't We Just Here?

Last night, Adam and Jake went to a play with some friends. Around 10:15, they called to say that their friend had broken his ankle and they needed to take him to the hospital. After some discussion, we told them to come home (the ambulance was on it's way). About 15 minutes later, Jacob called back to tell us that Adam was hurt, too. Apparently, they were goofing off and standing on the back of the van while the driver drove around the parking lot. Wow. The teenage brain just continues to stupify me.
Adam and his friend both fell off. So, it was off to McKay-Dee hospital for the second time in a month. (Thank heaven for good insurance!!!)

Adam had x-rays and nothing was broken. We have to watch the knee, since any ligament or tendon damage won't show up on the x-ray. And he's on antibiotics because of his elbow scrape. I guess the bursa sack (don't really know what that is) can get infected.

He's sleeping this morning, I'm sure he'll be really sore when he wakes up. He actually got lucky, his friend has a pretty serious ankle break. We're all lucky. As I laid in bed, I thought about what they asked first thing at the hospital- "Did you hit your head?" After this week and what happened with Natasha Richardson, I realized it could have been so much worse!

What Kind of Question is That?

Yesterday I had to go to the mall. Now, understand, I don't shop at the mall. I don't window shop there, walk there, nothing. The last time I went to the mall was to take my little boys to see Santa. We went in, saw the big guy and left. Every now and then, it's necessary for me to go there, when that happens, I want to get in and out as fast as possible. Yesterday was one of those days.

Jacob had come up with the money to get a cell phone. I could write a lot about that, but I won't. Suffice it to say that he did his homework (about the cell phone, not real homework), checked the Internet and found a cheap, pre-paid phone at Radio Shack. Which is in the mall. Dang. So, we went to the mall. I had no idea which end the store was on, so I just parked, hoping I would get lucky and park near it. Nope, the leprechauns weren't smiling on me. I parked at the opposite end, which meant we had to walk. Now, I'm not opposed to walking, what I am opposed to is those carts that they have parked all the way down the length of the mall. Do we not have enough stores that we have to put some in the middle, too? I wouldn't mind those carts, if it weren't for the selling tactics they employ. We had just entered the mall and were passing the first cart when I saw a bunch of women in white coats. Doctors? No. Saleswomen trying to look like doctors. They all had a bottle of lotion in their hands. One of them approached me as I tried to walk quickly past and asked if I'd like some lotion. "No, thank you." I said as politely as I could while I tried not to break into a panicked run. As we passed, she said something else. Honestly, it sounded like another language. I asked Jake, "Did she say something in Spanish?" No, he told me, she asked if she could ask me a question. "I don't have time for questions." I told him. We continued down the hall, passing the other carts and ignoring the other sales people who wanted to ask me a question. Once we got his phone and were on our way back, I wanted to run again. "Don't make eye contact, don't talk, just keep going." I didn't have to warn Jacob, he was intent on his new phone. (Shouldn't we call it what it really is- a 'texter'? I doubt he'll ever make an actual call.) When we got close to the 'doctor-women' I thought, surely, she won't try again. Oh, how wrong I was!!

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked. I like to think that I'm not a rude person, so, I did it- I made eye contact. She reached out for my hand and said, "ljkfioeuriejfndfl" , seriously, I couldn't understand her. She had a fairly thick accent, not sure what country. I finally understood that she wanted to know if my nails were natural. Ok, for a minute my vanity took over and I thought she was complementing me. "Yes." I told her. Then, the petite thing turned into a shark. She grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the cart. Oh, I was hooked now. She started talking very fast about how wonderful my nail was going to look and please don't scream when you see it. Before I knew it, she had removed the nail polish from my finger and was buffing and shining it. All the while, she was talking. She looked at Jacob, "Come here, handsome." All right, chick, he's 14, don't talk to him like that. He was too into his phone to pay her any attention, 'Save me Jacob!'

She continued her sales drivel, no doubt taught to her in a training session, trying to keep me there. How could I leave? She still had a hold of my hand and wouldn't let go. Then, she asked me, "So, are you married, or happy?"

Wait, what?

She said it so quickly and with a little laugh, I know it was supposed to be a joke. I said, "Both." Just after that, she went into her sales pitch, which was when I took my leave. ("Sorry, hon, I have a hard time spending more than $3 on a bottle of nail polish. You want me to spend $50 on a buffer and some lotion? Not gonna' happen.")

I've been thinking about her question a lot. How sad that anyone would even joke about it. I know that a lot of the world sees it that way. Married or happy, one or the other, can't have both. I have to disagree.

Marriage is hard, of course. Anything worthwhile in this life is. It takes work. It takes patience and forgiveness and being able to put the needs of another person before your own. There are ups and downs, twists and turns, and sometimes, you have to work at being happy. But, it's a decision you have to make. Because at the end of the day, and at the end of this life, that's who you're going to have at your side. The careers, houses, vacations, cars, they'll all be gone, and if that's what makes you happy, then your happiness will be gone, too. I think we need to figure out how to be happy in our marriage in this life, because who wants to spend eternity with someone if you're not happy?

Did you ever read the article in the Ensign about the woman who got so annoyed with her husband for getting toothpaste splatters on the mirror? Her husband died, she cleaned the mirror and the next day, there were fresh splatters on the mirror. Yeah, we all do things that are annoying, we all make mistakes. Marriage is our way of learning gospel principles, like charity (overlooking those annoying traits), faith (we can get through the teen-age years) and hope (someday, maybe I'll be the person he deserves). To me, it's not a question. Married=Happy

In Search of Spring

The snow sheathed earth
Thirsts for sunshine,
Fertile flowers wait
Impatiently,
Longing for their breathless
Debut.
Bursts of color anticipate their
Welcome
Of the change of season.

And, I..
I wait.
Watching for any sign
That the long, cold,
Dark winter
Has finally given up the ghost,
That spring,
Splendid spring,
With it’s life and
Endless promise,
Is assuredly, undoubtedly,
Here.

~Julie

Shut My Mouth

I can't believe it happened. I swore it never would. I just don't know what to do now. I wish I could take it back, but once it's out there, you can't erase it. What?? Over the weekend, my husband and I were talking about our kids (unavoidable). I don't even remember the topic, but he said something about Jacob, my 14 year-old, and his music. Then, I said it. (Oh, I want to hide.)
I said, "It's not music, it's just noise." NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! I might as well have said it in my dad's voice, it was exactly what he said when I was a teenager. It makes me want to cry. You know what it means, don't you? It's not like I didn't already know, but I hate it when I get new reminders. Reminding me of what? Oh, like you didn't know. I'm old.
Music is a tell-tale sign of becoming 'middle age'. When you talk about a musician to younger kids and they say something like, "Donny and Marie who?" You know it. Thing is, music is so important to growing up. I remember listening to my parents' records (the thing we used to have before tapes and cd's-you do remember tapes, don't you?). I have a real sentimental attatchment to Engelbert Humperdink (yes, that's a real person) and Eddy Arnold. Then, there was the Carpenters. Oh, don't you love Karen's voice? I always loved singing along to her because she's an alto, and I didn't have to fake the high notes.

I was a teenager in the 80's and man, we had great music! Journey, Foreigner, Styx and this guy:

before he was really weird. I went to see 'Footloose' in the theater, even hid in the bathroom with my friends so we could watch it again. Kevin Bacon, wow. Come to my high school, Kevin, I'll dance with you! But, all this stuff that we thought was so great, my parents thought was crap.

My music tastes have continued to change. I still love all the 80's music, some 90's and every now and then, I find I like something 'current'. What changed is that about 7 years ago, I converted to country music. All of my siblings listen to it, but I didn't like it, or so I thought. I won't give the whole story of how I was converted, but I'll just say that after a couple weeks of listening to a little bit here and there, my radio pre-sets were permanently changed. My husband, who is a fan of classic rock (blech) was completely blind-sighted by this change. To say that he hates country music is a major understatement. Oh, well, I don't like classic rock, either. Being different is good, right? He told me once that I'm not the woman he married. Oh, really? Big surprise. The woman he married didn't have stretch marks, wrinkles or gray hair. Tell you what, you get back the body of the woman you married and I promise to never listen to country music again.
As for saying what I did, it's actually not the first time. I find myself repeating my parents often. Does it mean I'm old, or that they were right?? Hmmmm.

Ever Wonder...

what a 13 pound baby looks like?

I was going through pictures the other day and came across this one. Max was born one week before his due date and tippped the scales at 13 lb. 6 oz. He was not born via c-section. My body cringes at the thought. I tried to get my doctor to induce me early, he refused. Maybe he should've listened to me? Who would've thought that the skinny little kid that terrorizes my house on a daily basis started off so big.

Fabulous!

Where to begin? At the beginning, I guess. The opening act. I didn't put on any pictures of Jessica Simpson, because, well, she doesn't deserve it. Now, I'm not musical by any stretch of the word. (If you could hear us at Family Home Evening, you'd know I'm not exaggerating.) But, I figure, if you're getting paid to sing to an audience, you should be prepared to do that. You should sing in such a way that you can be understood, instead of screaming into the microphone so the words are mumbled. Also, if you have a current hit, that you wrote, you shouldn't forget the words!!! Honestly, she did. Then she tried to make up for it by calling herself a true blonde. OK, blondey, get off the stage and bring on the real band! No, I didn't yell that, I just thought it really, really loud. Oh, and by the way, I don't know where those pictures of her looking fat came from, the girl is a stick. If my legs looked like that, I'd probably wear 'Daisy Duke' shorts, too.

So, on to the real reason we were there. This is the fourth time I've seen them in concert and Rascal Flatts just doesn't disappoint. The stage wasn't as cool as last year and they didn't sing long enough, (could they?) but they know how to put on a show.

Have you ever seen those videos of the girls when the Beattles would come out? They'd scream and faint. That was not how I acted, yet, about halfway through the show, I said something to Sarah and she started cracking up- because I was cracking up. My voice that is. Yes, I yelled, and yes, I sang along to every song, but I always do that. I've never lost my voice before. Maybe it's my body's way of telling me that I'm too old to do that. Too bad. As long as they come to town, I will go and act like a teenager. It was totally worth it to sound like a chain smoker all weekend.

They sang a lot of songs they hadn't before (still didn't sing "Melt") and included "Secret Smile" which is one of my favorites. They also performed their new song, "Here Comes Goodbye", which is awesome. (Their new album comes out on April 7) It was a fabulous time and I can't wait till next year. The only thing missing from the night was our other two sisters!

Rascal Flatts Rocks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!