So Glad I Have What I Have

D went down to the bus stop last week and one of the neighborhood boys a year younger than him was sporting a self-inflicted ear piercing. Of course, instead of being impressed like he hoped I would be, all I could think of to say was, "Dude, that's really red. Does your mom know you did that?"

So, here stands a third grader being all "cool" with his new ear ring. I'm old enough to still believe that earrings are for girls! Even D focused in on the potential infection once I said that. I hoped that it turned something that was supposed to have a high "cool effect" into a "gosh, I hope his ear doesn't fall off" moment.

So, now, guess what we're going to talk about for Family Home Evening next week? We'll be hauling out the New Era and Ensign articles about piercings and tattoos. I'm so very grateful for the words of the prophets and other leaders. Really, it makes my job as a parent easier. Instead of saying, "You're not getting a tattoo or ear ring because I SAID SO!" We can sit down and have a discussion about what's right and how our bodies are sacred temples that should not be defaced.

I can't imagine parenting without a purpose. By that I mean swimming around making arbitrary decisions based on my personal opinion and nothing else. Instead of saying "No" for the sake of saying "no", I can say, "No... and here's why". Then we can talk about what the Lord expects of us and the children have the opportunity to feel the Spirit as they seek confirmation to what we've taught them. They won't always go pray about it because their humanity will try to overcome their spirits. But, they will know what's right and hopefully that will touch them enough to at least bother them a bit if they make the wrong choice.

N used to have a nice CTR ring - which, of course he lost because children eventually lose everything - including their mother's sanity - but, he wore it to school all through the 4th grade. His 4th grade teacher - a single non-LDS 20-something asked him about the ring and said it was COOL! When N explained what it meant, his teacher asked if N could get him one. So, guess what the teacher got at the end of the year?! I'm so glad that we can teach our kids what the RIGHT is in the Choose The Right. This teacher is now with the Peace Corps in China and I hope he's still wearing the ring and choosing the right even though he may not always understand "the right".

Really, the gospel makes your job as a parent much easier. You can turn to heavenly resources to help you teach your children what is right. A great plan.

Good-Bye, Brother...

Well, the EEG showed no significant brain activity beyond the seizures he's suffering from the brain swelling. So, his son and his brothers and his father will put on their white shirts tonight and give him a blessing that gives him permission to go home to our Father in Heaven. Then his ventilator will be turned off and he'll be made comfortable. We hope he chooses to leave quickly. From what some have felt, he's ready to go now, he just can't get out of his body because of the life support.

I'm grateful for the plan of salvation and the eternal nature of families. I'm also grateful that we have a merciful and loving God who let Dave leave before the ALS robbed him of all his dignity. It's a horrible disease to die from. This was merciful, although still hard.

We'll miss you, Dave.

Blessings Disguised...

I spoke very briefly here about my BIL who is suffering from ALS. He was able to leave the hospital last Thursday after being there for 6 weeks after he had a feeding tube and ventilator put in. He was looking forward to going home, finally. He was also looking forward to getting married in October.

Well, his first night at home was rough and on Friday morning, he suffered heart failure. He was without a heart beat for too many minutes and when they finally got him back, they were concerned about brain damage.

His body was cooled down to about 87 degrees for 24 hours to try to stop any further damage to his brain. Today, they did some external tests to check for brain activity. Tomorrow they will do an EEG to test for brain wave activity. It's not looking good... He didn't flinch in pain when they poked him and his pupils didn't react when they shined a light into them.

Devestating is the only word I can come up with. This was completely unexpected at ALS does not affect your heart or brain. So, who could have imagined it would be his heart and brain that would be his undoing?

Is this a blessing in disguise? ALS is a long, slow death where your working brain eventually gets trapped inside a body that is unable to even open it's eyelids. Eventually you die of respiratory failure.

But, Dave just laid back and passed out. How simple. Is this a sign from a loving God that Dave had suffered his disease with dignity and faith and Heavenly Father said, "Well, done, my son. Come home to Me. I'm giving you the easy path." His angel mother may have pleaded on his behalf to let him leave the earth swiftly and without further suffering.

We may not know the answer to this in this life. It may not even be the end of his life right now. Further tests need to be done tomorrow. But, if it is his time to go, we must look at the blessing of it all through the tears of grief. The timing was not right for our earthly desires, but we know that our timing isn't God's timing.

I also have to believe that a loving Heavenly Father will not leave his dear, sweet Fiancee without the blessings of being with him eternally should she choose that. God loves us and does not punish us for righteous desires. It doesn't make it any easier right now. But thankfully we can look at it - eventually - with eternal eyes.

What Ere' Thou Art {Look} Well Thy Part

I have always loved the "What Ere Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part" that President Kimball used to talk about. It was something he saw on his mission in Great Britain and it had a profound effect on his life.

I'm altering it a little to say "What Ere Thou Art, LOOK Well Thy Part" because I have known way too many kids who looked one way and acted another. Most of the time, it was a disservice to themselves but they didn't realize it.

Many years ago when we were newlyweds, Mark was the Young Men's president in our ward. There was a young man in the ward who was probably the NICEST boy you'd ever meet. He was polite and respectful and interacted well with adults. I used to tell Mark that I hoped our children (when we had them) would grow up to be like this young man. Even though there was more than 10 years between he and Mark, he ended up becoming a treasured friend that we still run into occasionally.

This young man did not look well his part, though. Despite his wonderful demeanor and personality, he looked like someone who had just come down from the mountains. Sometimes it bordered on the "UnaBomber" look - long scraggly hair, grungy clothes and a scrubby beard. People immediately judged him to be a no-respect loser. I used to think, "B, you aren't doing yourself any favors with that look!" You might say, "Well, people shouldn't judge." But honestly, we make judgments every day. This young man looked like he should be holding a sign begging on the side of the road more than he looked like the nice young man he was. If I didn't know him, what WAS I supposed to think about him???

I see the same thing with young women - nice girls who don't dress like nice girls. Why would you want someone to think you're not a nice girl? People make judgments about who you are by how you're dressed - PERIOD. That will never change no matter how hard we wish it would.

Honestly, I'll admit, I'm ULTRA bugged by the LDS "stars" (especially the dancing ones) who wear not a single stitch of clothes more than the the other non-LDS girls. Seriously, how hard is it to make at least an attempt at covering your private parts?? You don't have to dress like an Amish woman, but you could easily say, "Hey, I'd like to have that neckline a little higher, please." I have the utmost respect for Charlene Wells and the other pageant girls who have worn 1 piece suits and gowns with sleeves and backs despite the pressure to do otherwise.

As for me - I want people to notice that I dress nicely BUT that I also cover those things which should be covered. I buy my sleeves just a little longer. I make sure I find white blouses that don't reveal everything under them and I make sure that when I sit down, that I don't have to fight my skirt or shorts to keep everything under wraps. It's really not that hard to do. How I look should match my attitude and belief system. I am grateful for a mother who taught me that from the time I was small. I have always tried to "Look Well My Part" and will teach our boys to do the same.

Attention Utah Drivers...

That sign on the side of the freeway with the big numbers on it is informing you of a SPEED LIMIT. Let's define the word LIMIT... generally, it means that that's the MOST you can have or do. So, if the speed LIMIT sign has a big 6 and 5 on it, the law is saying that the FASTEST you can drive is 65 mph.

I just returned from a week in the lovely state of Utah and I followed my future sister-in-law from Salt Lake City to Roy one evening. She finally called me on my cell phone and said, "I don't see you. Where are you?" I told her I was trying to strike a balance between keeping up with her and following the law (my NORMAL state of driving). So, while she was careening down the road at warp speed, I was plugging along uncomfortably at about 70 mph with the voices of my kids (who weren't with me) in me head echoing their normal , "Mommy, how fast are you going?" She said, "Okay, you pass me and we'll go your speed. I'll try not to tail-gate you."

What is it with Utahns and speed? Seriously, there are laws people and we should be following them. Read the 12th Article of Faith if you need a little reminder. Slow down... but not as much as my father-in-law who has (and I'm not kidding) been pulled over TWICE on I-15 for driving TOO SLOW. Go figure - they'll stop the slow ones. Maybe the cops can't catch the rest.

Even one of my Utah brother-in-laws mentioned that he found it refreshing when they came to visit us this summer that people weren't speeding like crazy through Seattle. I said, "We have cops who know how to stop people - and they do."

The Gassy Elephant and the Dying Cat

So, N started middle school this year and that means BAND! He has taken piano since he was 6 and we swapped piano lessons for 6th grade band this year. So, after three days of "evaluation", the band teacher recommended he play one of three instruments - Trombone, French Horn and TUBA! So, guess which one my smallish child selected? Why, the one most impossible for him to carry - THE TUBA! I figure the band teacher has it out for me - even though he doesn't know me. He happily sent a tuba home for the family to enjoy.

So, the day he brought it home, his friend across the street also brought home his instrument of choice - the clarinet. They went out in the front yard and gave the neighborhood a concert - the best concert a couple of 6th grade boys with all of three days of band class under their belts could give. And, it was a perfect interpretation of a very gassy elephant a cat dying a horrible death.

Tell me it can only get better...

SISSSSSTERRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In August we spent the week at Cub Scout Day Camp. I volunteered for a couple of days. There were 150 cubs there and probably only a handful of them were LDS.

Being the Bishop's Wife (my label), all the little scouts would greet me each day - sometimes from across the field I would hear, "HI SISTER G!!!!" It reminded me of being in downtown Seattle with Young Women several years ago. They were all strung out behind me and when I would get too far ahead or one of them wanted to stop and look, they would yell, "SISTER G!!!!!!!". I wondered how many people around me were thinking, "Huh. She doesn't look like a nun."

The whole "Brother" and "Sister" thing baffles outsiders at times. It's so natural to us. My kids sometimes have trouble when they know a school teacher is LDS - they don't know how to address them because their natural inclination is to call them "Brother Jones" or "Sister Smith" not "Mister Jones" and "Mrs Smith".

Then there's the whole "what do you call your Bishop when you're hanging out with him" thing. That's always sort of humorous to listen to how people handle it. "Mark. Uh, Bishop. Uhhhh, Mark?" But that's a whole different topic...

Chaity Never Faileth

We have had more than our share of mishaps and illness in our ward this summer. We have one sister who was in a head-on freeway collision (with a drunk 17 year old girl) and has been in the hospital since August. We had one sister with MS fall and break her hip. Another who suffers from chronic illness ended up in the hospital with cellulitis. And another who just finished up chemo from a double mastectomy.

Our poor (and totally awesome) Compassionate Service leader has been run ragged. Last Sunday she was chasing down helpers for 4 different lists for food and visits. The other women in our ward have stepped up and been totally AWESOME! The visiting teachers for these sisters in need have been too!

Last Sunday, our Relief Society lesson was on Unity and I will say that nothing creates unity more than the need for charity. When Mark was in the hospital last year with Encephalomyelitis, several people commented that his illness really brought the ward together. We were served in amazing and humbling ways over that three month period from the simplest prayer to the brother who came every Saturday until late Fall to mow our lawn to the youth who came and cleaned up our yard for the winter. Everyone was looking to help.

There is nothing so nourishing to the soul as to serve one another. I am so grateful that service is a big part of the LDS culture. If there were more people in the world who served those around them, the world would be a much better place.

Who Knew He had a Phone...

Seriously, when I got home from Soccer tonight, there was a voice mail message from... Joseph Smith!

Mark used to be the Transient Bishop last year and the calls sometimes still come in because people don't realize it changed in January. Apparently, Joseph Smith needs some help and someone told him that Mark was the transient bishop.

His parents must have had a sense of humor. Or, they weren't members of the church and didn't know that Joseph together with Smith would make Latter-Day Saints with caller ID giggle.

9/11

At bedtime last night, D asked me, "Tomorrow is a sad day. What happened on September 11". I then spent some time telling the kids about what happened on 9/11/2001. They were 2 1/2 and 4 on that awful morning. They didn't know what was going on that day, except that I sat on the couch in a puddle of tears glued to the TV all day. I was careful to not let them watch much of the horror.

Those images are seared into my head. I will never forget that horrible, awful, sickening scene. I got up after Mark called me on his way to work in downtown Seattle. I got up, turned on the TV and then called him back, begging him to come home immediately. He worked in a taller building downtown and my fear was that there were dozens of planes in the air ready to start hitting tall buildings in major cities across America right at rush-hour. He said he was already on his way that pretty much all of the freeway was slowly reversing itself as people got word of what was going on and either decided to not continue into work, or their place of work shut down for the day due to safety concerns. All the tall buildings in downtown Seattle were shut down.

One horrid image in my head is one of a man who jumped in desperation. The news show I was watching caught him on a close-up and followed him for several seconds as he fell. I was sickened as I realized that his loved-ones might be watching the same thing. According to some reports, hundreds did the same and jumped to their death.

I hope every American wakes up this morning with remembrance. Not just sadness but anger and the resolve to never let this happen again. I also hope it compels people to register to vote today and then use their vote to elect good men and women who will always protect and defend America in any way necessary so that no other generation will have to suffer such a horrific event again.

God Bless America and God Bless those families whose lives were changed forever 7 years ago.

The Sacrament Meeting Battle

I sit and watch all the young parents struggle with their little ones during sacrament meeting. I feel for them. I remember those days. Only, much of the time, I was alone because Mark was either in a Bishopric, a Bishop or on the High Council. I think many of our past wards thought I was a single mother.

The kids that get me, though, are the ones who SMILE while their parents cart them out of the chapel. They are still yelling to make sure they get taken out, but I see that little smirk on their faces. I can't help but wonder if they are going off to be disciplined or off to "hall play land". I think I know the answer by the look on their faces. It's amazing that a 2 year old is THAT smart and will actually SMILE while he's screaming on his way out.

But, then there's the kid who went up the aisle a few weeks ago with his dad holding his left hand and his right hand over his bum saying, "no spanks!" It's not often I get a good giggle on High Council Sunday.

If you're one of those struggling young parents, I will say to you that it gets better. When my kids hit about 5 or 6, they suddenly stopped having a pew riot every Sunday. We still had our moments, but I had pretty much won the war.

We made it AWFUL to go to the hall. I mean, AWFUL!!!! Our first line of defense was into the hall and onto our laps. No talking. No reading books. No playing games. They sat on our laps and did NOTHING. If that didn't work (usually because there is a party going on out there), station number two was into an empty classroom on our laps in the same position.

And, if THAT didn't work, we pulled out the BIG GUN! THE CAR SEAT!!! We headed to the car and strapped them in. Usually, that started a melt-down. Well, I don't want to listen to it, so I would stand outside the car with my back to the window enjoying the gentle (HA!) rocking motion caused by the melt-down going on in the car.

Every minute or so, I'd open the door and say, "Are you ready to go back in?" If I got an escalation of the melt-down, I'd just shut the door and turn around again. After a couple of rounds, I would get a sniffling and gasping, "yes".

The bishopric of one ward we were in would snicker when they saw us leave, car keys in hand. They knew what was coming and in a twisted way, it amused them!

As they got older and too big for the car-seat trick, I borrowed a trick from a friend. I take them to an empty classroom or end of the hall (down by your bishop's office is pretty quiet) and I set them on a chair facing the wall. If they are really in hot water, I have been known to make them put their forehead against the wall. Talk about BORING! I mean, their "I Spy a Nephite" book is in the chapel and they are on the hall staring at the wall - a point I usually try to make to them.

So, my tip for you is to be firm, be boring as all get-out in the hall, and be aware that your little darling might be screaming 15 times in an hour in Sacrament meeting because he knows it's better on the other side... Your job is to make sure that when you go through those chapel doors, that it's the worst place they could possibly be.

NEVER Pray for Patience

I'm a firm believe in never praying for patience. I learned the hard way that Heavenly Father has a sense of humor...

Case in point; a few days ago, in our prayer, Mark prayed that I might have patience the next day. Oh, one would think that they next day would be a breeze - me being blessed with patience and all. But, noooooooooooo!!! That's not what happened. And, at the end of that day, I told Mark I would poke my finger in his eye socket DURING the prayer if he EVER did that to me again.

So, what happened that day to try my patience? Well, it was what I call "Tune-up Tuesday". N and D had their annual physicals in the morning and then eye doctor appointments in the afternoon. It was a "getting ready for school" kind of thing.

So, we're at the doctor and everything is going along just fine until the nurse blurts out, "So, I see that they both need their Chicken Pox boosters and their Hep B immunizations. Do you want to go ahead and get those today?" Oh, no, don't make it sound like an option, lady!!!! Under my breath I whispered, "yes", hoping the children hadn't heard a word she said.

Too late! The minute she left the room, N, who is old enough to suck it up and take his shots like a man, started SCREAMING at me hysterically. Here we are sitting in room with the door closed and my child is screaming, "PLEASE MOM, NO!" over and over and over - I can't imagine what everyone in the hall is thinking. In between he's doing what we call his "Moo-cry" where he literally sounds like a distressed moo-ing cow. Oh, and on top of that, just for good measure, he stiffens his limbs out at the top of the cry and jerks his body causing the table he's sitting on to SLAM into the wall. Over and over he's begging me to tell her "Not today". He's willing to make a deal with the Devil if I'll JUST tell her we are going to wait (what, until he's 40?).

So, I'm in his face trying to whisper some reason into his head. I'm telling him he's embarrassing himself and me. He screams, "I DON'T CARE!" I'm telling him he's going to lose Wii for a month and he just jerks and screams louder. It goes on for TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES while we waited for the doctor. Meanwhile, his younger brother is sitting on the other end of the table reading "Green Eggs and Ham" going, "Shots hurt. So what. Whatever..."

The doctor comes in and it CONTINUES all through D's exam. I don't think the doctor could even hear D's heart beat. N is just sitting there blubbering and moo-ing like a dying cow. I was HORRIFIED!

Finally, the doctor gets to him to do his physical and gets him calmed down (give that man a raise!).

Then he says the same nurse who suggested we get the shots is going to come give them and SHE'S GOOD! So, he leaves and she comes in. She swabs off D's arms with alcohol and pops a needle in each arm while he sits on my lap. He was like, "Did you even give them to me?"

Then it's N's turn. The moo-ing starts ramping up again and he starts to go "animal" on me. The begging starts again - I'm the meanest mom in the world because I said, "Yes". He's trying to get out of the room. I get him on my lap and literally hog-tie his arms with my hands. She pops a needle in each arm and he relaxes, jumps off my lap and says, "Hey, you're right, D, that didn't hurt at all"...

If I could have crawled out the window to get to my car, I would have.

Patience! DO NOT EVER PRAY FOR IT and DON'T LET YOUR HUSBAND DO THAT TO YOU! The price of patience is too high. How about we pray I just get through the day unscathed?

2 Fishies and a Castle - A Love Story

We bought N a fish tank for his birthday a few years ago and immediately killed the fish with Ick. So, I kept making excuses after that as to why it just wasn't the right time to get more fish. The tank essentially sat empty after that until this year. N's teacher wanted a tank in his room and N offered ours. I was thrilled to haul it over to the school where the 5th grade class set it up and filled it with little fish and snails. Well, my evil plan was to GIVE it to the teacher, but he had other plans. He asked N if he wanted to take the fish home with the tank at the end of the school year (drats - foiled!). N has a parakeet he got last year so he decided to let D have the tank with the fish and so I was found carefully wheeling a half-full tank of fish to my van and driving it home the day before school got out this spring.

Well, we had 3 fish and a boat-load of snails. One fish immediately kicked the bucket so I assumed the others would too. But they didn't. And the snails were multiplying at something more than a snail's pace. We had to learn about snail reproduction to answer the question of why more snails kept appearing.

Suddenly, a few weeks ago, the other two fish disappeared. We kept looking for their bodies at the top of the tank. Then I started moving the castle around to see if their bodies were trapped in there. Once in a while they would dart out and swim like crazed, caged beasts before retreating back into the castle. I thought maybe the snails were threatening to beat them up or something as the snails far out-numbered the two small fish.

D was totally distraught that his fish were going to die. It was bizarre that they suddenly wanted to be inside that small red castle night and day.

And then.... one morning I turned on the tank light to look again for the fish and I saw tiny movement in the rocks at the bottom of the tank. Upon further inspection, I saw that it was tiny little fish. Suddenly, I started seeing movement everywhere. And then I understood! The fish were on their Honeymoon in the big red castle. How romantic.... Now, D is the proud new grandpa of about 2 dozen little fishies. He couldn't be happier.

We always have "THE TALK" with our kids when they turn 8 and the fish family gave us another opportunity to talk about that again. I'm not sure HOW the baby fishies happened (especially since these were two different types of fish) , but we had to explain a LITTLE bit about it. Of course it started out with "a girl fish and a boy fish fell in love and got married..."

We assume one of the snails officiated...

Great Parenting Advice

LINK

I feel strongly that consistent rule enforcement and discipline coupled with teaching gospel principles FROM BIRTH gives you the best chance of success as a parent. The older my boys get, the less I have to get on them for things. They are STILL boys (body noises and all), but, they are making good choices with their friends and activities. I hope this will continue and that we have laid a good foundation for them.

Whey our oldest was born, I had an overwhelming sense of "hurry". I only had EIGHT SHORT YEARS to prepare him to be accountable for his own actions. That frightened me. How do you shape a child of God in EIGHT YEARS? If he fails, then we failed. Yes, he has his agency, but I hope both of them will use their agency appropriately as they grow.

Someone in a past ward once mocked me because we had family scripture study every night with our infant son. She implied we were wasting our time. I didn't think so. And, any parent who's tried to have FHE with a 2 year old knows that it's often more frustration than anything else. But, our kids don't remember a time when we DIDN'T do those things. And, I have to believe that our infant sons understood the words we read to them. Afterall, they were so fresh from heaven... They probably understood them better than we did.

Of course, my parenting theory will be most likely heavily tested in the coming years as our sons become teenagers. I know it won't be without bumps, but I hope the bumps are smaller because we thought forward in our parenting and tried to prepare them from birth withstand the world.

We'll be watching anxiously.