Try, Try Again

My mom always told me I could do whatever I wanted. “Sure you can Kathy,” she would say. Then pat me on the back and leave me with her encouraging words.

I thought I could dance. I tried. I went to dance class. We practiced ballet and tap. I even had the cute little shoes. But my teacher told my mom I wasn’t very good and couldn’t be in the class any more.

I moved on to soccer. Fun sport. I thought I could do it. I was goalie and fielded the ball with my head – by accident. After that, I sat on the side.

Later, I thought I could sew. I tried it. And guess what? I was pretty good at it. Success.

In high school, I tried out for Honor Choir. I was sure the choir teacher would overlook my untrained voice and see right into the soul of the song I was singing. No.

Then I thought I could try out for Pom. I had the confidence of my mother behind me, after all. I practiced. And practiced. And practiced. I was positive that the fluid motions would somehow kick in and make my hips do their thing. That somehow my inability to follow a beat would be swallowed up in my smile. I got to try outs and forgot everything. I stood there, clapping and smiling, for the whole three minutes of song, while the cute girls around me bounced to the rhythm. I failed. Again.

Later, I tried out for a baccalaureate speech. And I made it. Success.

I tried out for plays, choirs, bands, clubs and more, but never made it. Except for the super important times. The times that mattered.

I had no shot in a million at getting into BYU, but I felt I needed to go. So I tried. Success.

Statistics and cynicism stood in the way of all possibility that hubby and I would end up together. Who marries their high school sweetheart anyway? But we tried. And we did it. Success.

We moved into our home, off of a busy street that feeds into an even busier street. I told myself I would get speed humps installed. I tried. And tried. And tried. It wasn’t easy. But guess what? Success.

Four children down the road, I still didn’t have my degree. But I wanted it. So I tried. It took me a while, class by class, but I did it. Success.

My life is not the only one filled with stories of success and failure. It is not the only one where hard lessons were learned during disappointment and confidence gained through triumph.

History is FULL of stories when people went up against the odds. When everything should have made them fail, and yet, somehow, they succeeded.

So, when do we try? Do we try only when we KNOW we will succeed? Or do we take each experience as it comes to us full force. Jumping in with the confidence only a mother could give us and try.

Do we give in before the fight is ever fought? Do we surrender before we ever march?

Absolutely not.

Ours is a life of choice. Of freedom. And we can try all we want. Failure will definitely come and it will be painful. But success will also come. And it will be even more celebrated.

To not try to do something, simply because we think it may not work, or we will not succeed is only giving in to the failure. If I am going to fail, I would like to do it fully. I would like to learn my lessons as I fail, so that when I do succeed, I will have deserved it.

Currently, this is my fight. And it may fail… but it may succeed.

85 and Climbing!

I am not naive to the Arizona heat... I am a native. I knew it was coming. But here, at the end of February, I am not quite ready to blast my A/C all day.

It is time to clean out the pool, dump in the chlorine, and hope the water temperature is swimmable. Last year, we got in at a brisk 65 degrees.

Even with the refuge of cool water, I don't feel ready for another blazing desert summer. It might be worth it if pounds would fall as easily as the droplets of perspiration. But they don’t. They just stay on, reminding you how hot it is with an extra few dozen pounds.

I am not ready to have to ice the car seat before I put B in it. I am not ready for my eyes to burn and my skin to cook when I get in the car. I am not ready for it to be so hot that the kids can't go outside without getting heat exhaustion, red cheeks and dehydration. I am not ready to get a sun burn while driving or burning my feet on the driveway when I take out the trash. I am not ready for the stinky, “baked-in-the-Arizona-sun” smell that EVERYONE gets after spending 3.2 seconds outside. It can’t be avoided. And I am not ready for our pool to turn into a big bathtub by August - making it an unpleasant swim. I am not ready to watch the heat rise off the pavement.

And MOSQUITOES!!!! UGGGH! We are a West Nile Breeding Playground over here. My poor kids look like they have the chicken pox every fall when they go back to school. OOOOHHHH those INFERNAL MOSQUITOES!

To be fair, we have a little spell every year when we bundle up in our windbreakers and pretend it’s cold enough to drink hot chocolate. There are also a couple weeks on either end of the excruciatingly hot summer that we are comfortable leaving our doors open during the day. But overall, it is downright hot. And in the last days of February, we have squirmed under the 85 degree sun.

So, for those of you who enjoy the cooler weather, dip your feet in the snow for me. For those of you who understand this Arizona sun, stock up on the sun screen and put away the crayons. I am afraid we are in for another hot one.

The Warmth of Friendship

I received this blanket a few months ago from a friend in my ward. Even though she is laden down with multiple children, she found time to make an adorable fleece throw for me. When she brought it by, my whole day felt brighter because I knew somebody was thinking of me.

This blanket has been well loved since then. It has warmed little feet during early morning family scriptures. It has helped me quiet a broken hearted two year old. It covered my shoulders when I was ill with infection. It has been a fort, a cape and a comfort.

Many times,through our brief cold spell, I have looked at this blanket and smiled. Knowing it was given to me by someone who loves me and my family. I believe it is my all time favorite blanket.

It occurred to me that this blanket was only one representation of the many acts of kindness and expressions of love our family receives on a consistent basis.

From scrubbing my floors on hands and knees to dropping off a loaf of Amish Friendship Bread, I am continually reminded of the giving hearts of those around me.

We live in a ward that is so much more like a family than anything else. My children know the houses they can stop at en route to school in case of an emergency. I know if any one of these ward members were to see my child in need, they would stop to help. If someone in the family is having problems, the whole ward combines their faith and works to help.

It has consistently been like this in the almost 8 years we have been here. People reaching out to another. Caring and lifting the hands that hang down.

I love knowing there are people I care about, that care about my family, on every street of my neighborhood. I love knowing I could call on anyone to help at anytime. I love having a ward full of friends that bring a smile to my soul and laughter to my heart.

So as I start to pack up all the warm blankets for the season, I smile to myself as I come to this one. It means so much more to me than I imagine my friend ever thought it would. To me, it represents how abundantly the Good Lord has blessed me with good friends.

Enough already!

Seriously!

Could I please just go to the store one time without seeing Ms. Jolie's face plastered on 3 or 4 checkout stand magazines?

We all know she has exotic eyes and pouty lips. But how much more can we take?

She and Jen might meet. She and Brad are having problems. She is pregnant. She is adopting. Somebody wants to be just like her. She is the vampire parent of the year.

Big Deal!

Getting tired of it folks.

She has been on the forefront of publicity WAY TOO LONG.

I need a some good martian babies or something to look at in line at the grocery store. Maybe a decent political corruption story. Even a pregnant man would do... just change the covers of the silly magazines!!!

Time out for a political message from our sponsor…

OK – I don’t really have a sponsor, but this is a political thing. So any who are not of the conservative persuasion might want to check back on another post.

I got an email from a friend the other day asking to participate in something -- to protest, peacefully, the presidents stand on abortion. Or Voluntary Population Planning, as he puts it.

I believe we should respect the office of president and support him in his difficult job. But I don’t think that means we should sit idly by while things happen we don’t approve of.

So someone had a great idea of the RED ENVELOPE PROJECT. I hadn’t ever heard of it before, but I really like the idea. A simple, peaceful way to send a message.

***PLEASE NOTE: This is NOT my idea... I am only trying to spread the word!***

Here is the email I received:

Get red envelopes or postcards and mail them on March 31st to the White House
When: March 31st, 2009
Get a red envelope. You can buy them at Kinkos, or at party supply stores.

On the front, address it to
President Barack Obama
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW
Washington , D.C. 20500

On the back, write the following message:

“This envelope represents one child who died because of an abortion.It is empty because the life that was taken is now unable to be a part of our world.”

We will mail the envelopes out March 31st, 2009. Put it in the mail, and send it. Then forward this event to every one of your friends who you think would send one too. I wish we could send 50 million red envelopes, one for every child who died [in the U.S.] before having a chance to live. It may seem that those who believe abortion is wrong are in a minority. It may seem like we have no voice and it's shameful to even bring it up. Let us show our President and the world that the voices of those of us who do not believe abortion is acceptable are not silent and must be heard. Together we can change the heart of The President and save the lives of millions of children.

So I want to call on my blogging buddies, friends and family to join this protest. Whether or not it works, I will feel better for trying.

If you need an envelope, email me. I will send you one or two.

*** Please feel free to refer to, link to, copy, paste or otherwise snag this information for your blog!!! Lets spread the word!!!***

Attention Children of the World

The following items do NOT belong in laundry baskets or in the washing machine!

1. Legos
2. Dinosaurs
3. Little People
4. Rocks
5. Sand
6. Sticks
7. Flowers
8. Homework
9. Belts
10. Ties
11. Shoes
12. Video games
13. Watches
14. Cell phones
15. Bandaids
16. Batmobiles
17. K-nex
18. Books
19. DS systems
20. iPods
21. Kleenex
22. Dirty Diapers (that is Dirty with a capital D)
23. Food wrappers
24. Light sabers
25. Crayons
26. Markers
27. Pens
28. Mystery clothes belonging to people outside your home
29. Kettle Corn
30. Blankets that are used only once to warm feet during morning scriptures
31. Tape dispensers
32. Plastic forks
33. Gummy Snacks
34. And anything else that is not made of cloth.
    
    Additionally, under no circumstances are clothes to be dumped back into the laundry baskets simply because you do not want to put them away in your drawers.
    
    Your careful attention to this matter will ease your mother’s burdens and you just might get more cookies. Maybe.

Sunday Reflections

Last week I had a wonderful idea of recounting every Relief Society Lesson for a Sunday post. I thought it would be a great way to remember what I had learned. What I had felt.

Today, I sat with my new calling, in primary.

I am actually thrilled to be in primary. I will miss my Family History calling, and miss Relief Society, but I really love teaching the gospel to little children.

That being said, I really wanted to hear today’s lesson. It was from the talk given by Quentin L. Cook, “Hope ya know, we had a hard time.” So, tonight I spent some time reading the talk. I loved it when he gave it, but reading through it helps me realize the tender message our Heavenly Father wants us to hear.

I am always amazed, when I see what other people go through, at the strength that seems to emulate from within. People really struggle. Have hard times.

Heaven knows that in my little happily-padded world, I have had difficulty, but nothing like what I see others go through.

And sometimes, it just breaks my heart.

I want to make things better for them. Take the sickness away. Take the pain away. Take the heartache away. In this talk, Harold B Lee is quoted as saying,

“Sometimes the things that are best for us and the things that bring eternal rewards seem at the moment to be the most bitter, and the things forbidden are ofttimes the things which seem to be the more desirable”

Sometimes life does seem downright bitter. Hard. And how are we supposed to face it day after day. Over and over? And why when we are trying to do what is right, are things just so, so hard?

I am reminded of the last month of my mom’s life. I know I talk a lot about my mom. But her passing was one of the most significant events in my life… I learned a lot during that time. She was sick. Very sick. She was in the hospital for two weeks. She had no insurance. No Medicaid. No retirement. Nothing. Her social security checks were enough, barely, to buy groceries. And she needed to be in an assisted living facility – which isn’t exactly cheap. Not too many people were willing or able to help us in this situation. I was on the phone for hours a day. Visiting her for hours a day. Waiting for doctors for hours a day. Making serious health care decisions. I was trying to co-ordinate benefits and living arrangements. I would call my out of town siblings and received a lot of advice and verbal support. But there was very little they could do from other states.

My mom was suffering, physically and mentally, and I couldn’t seem to help her. She would call late at night crying. She was in pain. She was scared. And she was still grieving the passing of my dad. It was a very hard, emotional time for our family. For me. I remember feeling like I couldn’t take another step. I couldn’t make another call. Yet, somehow, the Lord carried me. I don’t know how it happened. But it did. I was able to do what needed to be done. Somehow my children were taken care of. My husband was amazing during this time. So supportive. His tender love and helpfulness enabled me to move on to the next day. It sustained me. And when I just couldn’t do one more thing, the Lord sent my neighbor to me to buoy me up. She was by my side during some of the major decisions I had to make.

Through a few miracles, things fell into place. I was able to find a place that could help my mom rehabilitate. Someone who cared more about her than the system. And it truly was a miracle.

But the greater miracle to me, the one that I will never forget, was how the Lord carried me. Oh, it was SO hard. One of the hardest things I have ever had to deal with. Probably harder than actually losing my mom. But, He made me able to bear it. He gave me strength.

We are taught in this talk that is no grief, no pain, no sickness so great that the Atonement of Christ and the love of Christ cannot heal. I believe that with all my heart.

Jesus Christ can heal us. He can take away our grief. And while we suffer in the moment, He lends us His strength and comfort. He knows us. He loves us. And knowing that is what helps me get through another day. We ARE safe in HIS loving arms.

So, if you have a few minutes, read this talk… it really is worth it. And for those of you who love this painting... it is one done by Greg Olsen called "Be Not Afriad"

The Man of the Hour

Hubby is the oldest of 7 children. And they are all close. It is a wonderful blessing to the family as our children grow up. They have cousins, cousins and more cousins.

We are lucky enough to live directly behind hubby’s younger brother, Uncle C, his wife Aunty E, and their four children. It is very common to see my children perched on top of the swing set talking to their cousins who are sitting on their trampoline.

We have actually thought about putting a gate between our two yards to make it easier for the kiddos to connect.

This weekend, Uncle C and Aunty E, took a much deserved trip to the Golden Coast. In their place came Uncle D and Aunty A, with their three children in tow, to hold down the fort.

Now, every one of my children’s uncles is WAY cool. So cool that the world really has to stop if there is ever a chance to hang out with one of them. Every uncle has their own area of expertise. Uncle D’s just happens to be finding a less dangerous way to do those things mom would never let them do ordinarily.

When they are with Uncle D my children have launched rockets, built smoke bombs, cruised in a go-kart, learned the ins and outs of hang gliding, studied electricity – and pretty much anything else that makes a mother’s instincts gulp with anxiety.

Yeah – he is pretty cool.

All weekend R & T have been asking to go over to their cousin’s house because Uncle D is there.
Please. Please. Please.

But R was “grounded” and the last thing my preggy sister-in-law needed was to add my children to the seven she was already taking care of. However, after a while I gave in… how long are they going to WANT to hang out with family anyway? And this really was a treat.

After a few minutes, Aunty A told me over the phone to go look outside. Once I did, I knew I had to grab my camera.

True to Uncle D’s nature, there he was with 10 kids on the trampoline. We will discuss safety on another day.

Oh, the GIGGLES!

It was so fun to snap photos of this… They say it all. Check out the faces on the children.

Just AWESOME!!!

Hiding in my room

Hubby and I have gotten into a little habit over the last couple months. Not a good habit. Not one you would expect from two people who earned degrees in Family Science and Human Development.

You see, when B out grew her crib, and of course I mean out grew as in climbing out of, we had to move her to a toddler bed. That threw off her “easy-to-put-to-bed” routine we had going.

So, we came up with a system. One of us sits in the room until she falls asleep. I know. I know.

All the books say don’t do that. But the problem we are running into is that it is a nice little reprieve for whoever gets to be in there. Hubby can catch up on work, or one of the multitudes of tasks he juggles. And I can catch up on my blogging – because it too is important.

Fast forward to today. Hubby is away on a campout with the young men (brrr, even in AZ) and I am the one that gets the chair of wonder in B’s room.

Once she had fallen asleep, I switched to the younger boys rooms. T, thankfully, was sound asleep. YES! But R was nowhere to be found. A quick glance in J’s room told me he was missing too. Grrr. They need to be in bed.

But before I could chastise them appropriately for not going to bed… I found them doing LAUNDRY!!!!

Yup. And CLEANING!

Evidently, at the primary activity today, my children listened when they talked about doing service for family members. YAY for me!! I quickly retreated to my room so I wouldn’t spoil any more surprises.

So, do I let them stay up as late as they want as long as they are cleaning the house? Or do I make them go to bed and extinguish this rare flame of domestic bliss?

Well, I don’t care what the books say; I am totally letting them stay up while I hide in my room. They can “surprise” me until dawn if they want.

Out of Curiosity...

Less than a year ago, I reluctantly began blogging upon my sister's request. Since then, I have seriously grown into blogging and LOVE it.

Maybe it is getting to release my thoughts into cyberspace, maybe it is just a cheap form of therapy. Maybe there is a closet author down inside waiting to break free.

Whatever the reason, it has been a great way for me to remember things I normally wouldn't even write down. A way for me to connect to old friends and make new ones. And a way for me to express my creativity -- or lack thereof.

But I am amazed when stumbling upon other's blogs how much time and effort people must spend on their blogs -- or others. Then there is the occasional plug for a product that makes me wonder how much of blogging is done to earn money. And, is it really profitable?

So the question is:

Is your blog for love or money? Do you blog because it is just something fun to do? Or do you blog to earn a buck?

I am interested in what you all have to say. Fill out my survey and/or post below. I know there are at least 38 people who read this blog, so I should get at least 38 responses right?

Daddy makes it better

When I was younger, Strawberry Shortcake was my girl. She was the reason I got up in the morning. She and her “berry-licious” friends were just plain awesome.

Until one night.

I had a horrible dream. Strawberry Shortcake aliens were invading earth in their cupcake spaceships. It was serious stuff for a 10 year old and I remember being so scared. I ran to my parents room and jumped into the safety of my parents bed.

Mom was out of town but there was my dad. Warm. Safe. He didn’t laugh at my scary dream. He just let me cuddle into his arms and soon I was sound asleep.

Dad made it all better. He always did. When I was with my dad, the world couldn’t touch me. I was as beautiful as he thought and as important as he made me feel.

I love watching my little girl with her daddy. I love to watch her face light up when she sees him. If only for a moment, I am shuttled back in time, remembering my time with my daddy. I watch her eyes smile as she dances with her dad and I savor the memories of my daddy/daughter dances.

Today is my dad’s birthday. He was such a wonderful dad! Such a great example. And I feel so blessed that my little girl gets to have what I had with my daddy. So thankful that I could grow up with such a wonderful dad!

Happy Birthday Daddy! Miss you! Love you!

A Gallon of Milk, Baby!!!

I have been packing around some extra weight... In fact, if I were to translate it into gallons of milk... here is what I have extra!

That's FIVE and a HALF gallons of milk -- Am I nuts? I wouldn't strap this to my belt on any sane day so what is my problem?

Well, as an added bonus of my sugar strike, I have dropped this:

That's a GALLON of Milk, BABY!!! In just over a month.

Gives you a little insight to how much junk I was eating. Gross!

Anyway, Here's your challenge! How many gallons can the blogging world drop this year? At least 5 here!

Post your extra gallons on your blog (really, it will help me feel better) and join with me in marking down your weight loss.

Now, for those of you who don't have extra gallons -- well, just go eat a twinkie!

Wish me luck!! And let me know if you are going to drop your extra gallons.

BTW, you can track my progress at the VERY bottom of this page...

***UPDATE*** A gallon of milk weighs about 8.5 pounds!

Lessons from Relief Society

When hubby and I were first married, we lived in a wonderful ward. There were many people willing to accept the young newlyweds and become our mentors. Of course, we were renting and not really permanent in the ward. But we felt accepted nonetheless. We loved the bishop of the ward. Warm, friendly, humorous.

Our rose colored glasses were shattered on the Sunday he was released with a statement on his choice to apostatize from the church.

Apostasy is referred to formal religious disaffiliation or abandonment or renunciation of one's religion. Well, this man had certainly done that. While we weren’t close enough to ever keep in touch rumors swirled here and there about the why and how. It didn’t really matter. The only thing that mattered was that we stay true to what we believe.

Today in Relief Society we discussed the lesson “Beware the bitter fruits of Apostasy” This seemed to be a lesson close to home for many in the room. When you love something so much, as people do with their religion, it is painful to watch someone refuse it. Fight against it.

For us, leaving the church symbolizes leaving the Lord. Turning your back on His teachings. When what you believe is the core of who you are, it is painful to observe.

Since that Sunday many years ago, I have watched many others leave our church. People I love, people I barely know. I have watched others tread on thin ice so to speak, becoming dangerously close to leaving the church.

I believe that when we turn our back on the Gospel of Jesus Christ, we are turning our backs on the very God we promised to serve.

So, personally, it is very painful for me to watch those I love and care about refuse and denounce a religion that means so much to me.

Does it mean I don’t love that person? Of course I still love them. Does it mean I conjure up images of them doing wrong? Does it mean I agree with that person? I never sit around and think up all the “evil” someone may be participating in and I don’t have to agree with them.

While I would never hope or choose for someone of my faith to leave the church, I would never condemn them. Their relationship with their Savior is between them. Not me.

But I hope, for those who are of my faith, that they will stay strong. That they will sustain the leaders of the church and follow the counsel of our Prophet. That their hearts and testimonies will not falter. Because, for me, this gospel is the greatest thing ever. And I want so much for others to enjoy it as I do.

I want them to have the peace of knowing the Savior can heal all wounds. I want them to have to have the comfort of knowing we can be together with our loved ones again after death. I want them to feel the joy that comes from knowing that a Prophet of God DOES speak to us today. I want those who are ill to know that the power of God exists in worthy men as His Priesthood. It can, and does, heal. Miracles are not dead and truth does prevail.

It is a beautiful lesson. If you haven’t had the chance to read the lesson, take a minute here.

Because a Sunday at my house isn't complete without...

I didn't know how much I wanted a little girl until one came along. And this poor baby has been a casualty in the "mom-seriously-needs-to-get-a-life" dilemma.

I mean, can I really help it if, after four boys, I am blessed with a little angelic creature with blond curls? Who wouldn't want to dress her up, make her a princess and fix that beautiful hair?

Evidently, her brother was even enticed by those curls...

I decided to bathe B this morning because she really seemed to have a bad case of "bed-head." A little shampoo should fix it. It took a while, but I finally realized the awful truth.

This is how her "normal" side looked when combed wet...

This is the side her brother "attended" to...

Now, anyone with curls knows that once the hair dries, it gets WAY shorter, so these images can be deceiving.

Apparently, while hubby and I were away on our Valentines Day Date, T decided B needed a haircut...

Of course, since I was just happy she was asleep when we got home, I didn't think to inspect her HEAD!

So, this morning, before church. I got to try my hand at fixing the mess instead of preparing my lesson like I should have done days ago. I am not sure I didn't make it worse.

Here she is... a short time later, sporting her new look.
**GULP**SNIFF**SIGH**

You know, I am not asking much. I am a patient and nice mom. I let my children have cookies for breakfast every once and a while. I don't freak out when things get torn, stained, broken or smashed. I can laugh off a little grape juice on the carpet.

But seriously....

This took everything in me to maintain composure. I gently, fighting back the tears, told T NEVER to do that again. I bravely, gulping away the sobs, told B we were going to give her a new haircut. I didn't raise my voice, maybe because it was shaky with emotion.

I know it will grow back... I am just not sure I will ever be the same again...

**SNIFF**

Valentine's Day

Valentine’s Day this year was a little different in our family. Mostly because EVERYONE was sick… It’s a little difficult to cuddle someone who is spewing mucus from various parts of their body…

That being said, we aren’t a heavy into the celebrations anyway. Yes, Valentine’s day is one more opportunity to say how much we love each other. An opportunity to spoil someone you love, but here is the truth…

My sweetheart doesn’t wait for Valentine’s Day. He does things the year through that let me know he loves me.

There are the occasional, unexpected flowers. He will do the dishes & laundry when he isn’t busy saving the mental health world. He watches over our little ones with tenderness. He calls me when I am driving on a trip to make sure I am aware of the road conditions. He kisses me goodbye when he leaves to his early morning bishopric meetings, even though he thinks I am asleep. He doesn’t get bent out of shape when (and it always is) the house is messy. He provides for our family without complaint. He is a stable, emotional safety net when I need it. He takes me out on a date – every week! Hubby shows me in so many ways all the time that Valentine’s Day is just like frosting on the cake.

So Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetie – thank you for a wonderful life!

Now, as I was browsing some of my favorite blogs, I found this “perfect-for-Valentine’s-Day” post by The Misplaced Americans. I love this blog – very upbeat. Her last post was perfect for V-Day... take a minute and read it here. We can all learn a thing or two.

Mr. Heinrick

There has been a kindergarten teacher at our school, almost since it opened in 1986. Before that, she taught kindergarten at another school. She is so loved and so sought after for a teacher. Everyone loves her. She is cheerful, loving and helps each child excel in their own area. Even though this was her year for retiring, she is very youthful and healthy. Just such a cute personality, you can’t help loving her. Mrs. Heinrick could be considered the heart of the school.

Part of her charm, was her husband. He was as much a part of her class as she was. His career was a fireman. His hobby was substitute teaching for many of the classes at our school. He knew the children as well as his wife and participated in everything from class activities to school wide events. As you can imagine the life of a firefighter helped him stay fit and youthful as well. Mr. Heinrick also became part of the soul of the school.

These two together were amazing. They were obviously in love, but not so sticky sweet that it made you throw up… they would tease each other and give each other a loving eye roll. They would interact with the children together and separately. I really believe that for some of these children, this was a new thing, to see a loving marital relationship. He was a father figure for many of the students and always had a loud belly laugh that would make you smile.

Last night, Mr. Heinrick passed away suddenly.

Everyone at the school was in shock. I happened to walk in this morning to pick something up and found the teachers in a prayer meeting in Mrs. Heinrick’s behalf. I saw the meeting break up.

Teachers left the media center with puffy eyes, some I am sure had been crying all night. They wiped their eyes, found a smile, and carried on. They took my children and other’s children and taught them. When all they must have wanted to do was run to their friend's house and give her a hug. Cry with her.

My love for teachers and the job they do grew so much today as I watched that.

We will miss Mr. Hienrick. It is such a sad day for their family. For our school. And for our community -- whom they both affected greatly.

Speaking for my family, our prayers are with you Mrs. Heinrick. God bless you and your family. Thank you for all you and your husband have done for my children. Mr. Heinrick will be sorely missed.

Loving 'W'

Ok – so my bloggy friend S’mee is playing this game… started by her bloggy friend… who got started from her bloggy friend. So it really is quite a bloggy friendly game.
Basically, you get a randomly assigned letter. Then you have to list 10 things you love that begin with that letter.

I got ‘W’ – here we go!!! (this was hard, by the way… thanks S’mee ;-))

1. Wonderful World of Disney! This is totally the first W word(s) that came to mind. And really? Can you beat it?
2. Washington. Only lived there for a few months, but entirely beautiful
3. Waking up to giggling children.
4. Water! Water! Water! Not necessarily drinking it, just being in it. I think I might have mermaid ancestors.
5. Warm feet. My feet are always cold and when they finally warm up, I am so happy.
6. Webbs. Hey, "Webb" is my maiden name (should I put that on a public blog?) And I totally love all Webbs. We are good folk!
7. Wet baby kisses. The kind when they are so little and they don’t have teeth and they just open up their mouth really wide and put their slobbery mouth on your cheek… so cute… Of course then you have to deal with baby spit, but totally worth it.
8. Winding down the day – ok kind of lame. But I do enjoy the end of the day when everyone is asleep and it is quiet.
9. Wobbly legs on new walkers. You know, the little toddlers that are trying to learn to walk. So adorable.
10. Waves. Decidedly a new love (thanks to our Hawaii trip) waves are (or can be) such a peaceful sound.

If you want to play along, leave me a comment and I will randomly assign you a letter!

Digestive what?

So I am out with the girls -- having a little girl only time. Quite fun.

There were actually quite a few highlights to the trip.

But only one gets blogged now.

We were eating at a buffet and enjoying a varity of yummy foods. Among them was this cookie my sister-in-law and sister pointed out.

Yup -- you read that right.

SWEETMEAL DIGESTIVE BISCUTS.

So tell me, exactly what goes through a persons mind when he (because it couldn't be girl that created this) decides to market this cookie?

And what exactly IS a digestive biscut? And WHY is it on a buffet?

That's all I have to say.

Weird!

Great Story by Gordon B Hinkley

My Bloggy friend S'mee posted this video on her blog... it was so touching to me.

I had to copy her and post it here. If you haven't read S'mee's blog, you should check it out. It is way cute!

Spilling Syrup

When I was in college, I was a hostess at a Shoney’s Restaurant. I loved it. Greet the customer, seat the customer, ring up the customer. Then do it all again. It wasn’t the most mentally stimulating job ever, but I got paid for smiling and it was fun.

Then, I thought I would try my hand at serving. Looked easy enough. Take the order, deliver the food. How hard could it be? Well, let’s just say multi-tasking took on a whole new meaning.

I started slow, with only a few tables. I think about four or five. Suddenly, taking orders, remembering drinks, delivering food (hot), cleaning up the plates, going back to check in. It was all VERY overwhelming. And while I could get a couple things done rather well, I didn’t seem to be able to handle it well with ALL the tables. I may have been able to take the orders just fine, but going back to check on drinks or other needs would fall by the wayside. Or maybe I was able to check in, but had a problem remembering where the food was supposed to go. And then there was the whole issue of balance. I quickly learned that spilling hot pancake syrup on a suede jacket doesn’t add up to a happy boss.

It was tough. I just couldn’t get it all right. Some of it – yes. But not all of it; not all the time.

I have had many days as a mom when I feel like I am back at Shoney’s trying to learn how to be a server. With 5 children, sometimes (more often than not) things fall by the wayside. I may be doing awesome at feeding them breakfast in the morning, but their backpacks sit untouched by maternal hands for weeks. I might get matching shoes on their feet, but socks are another matter. Most of the time they are mismatched. Or I might do well at giving hugs, but stink at following through with discipline.

So often, I feel like multitasking is not my forte. How am I supposed to get child A to finish an assignment, child C to pass off stuff in cub scouts, make dinner, do laundry, patch a scraped elbow, help child B with a friend problem, teach child D to ride his bike, make my bed and get all their teeth brushed at night?

AND (this is key) stay sane through it all?

That is tough for me. I have to accept that not everything is going to be done right all the time. There are going to be times when I spill syrup on a suede jacket – or completely flop as a mom. There are going to be times when I overlook one thing to accomplish another. How do I maintain the balance? How do I push myself to do better and give myself a break at the same time?

So, at the end of a week when I have been too sick to accomplish anything, I find myself battling these little demons of discouragement. All I really want to do is raise happy healthy children, who don’t end up in therapy because of me. Hopefully, they know how much I do love them and see beyond my inability to multitask.

One Man

Like many members of my church, I have been encouraged to read from the Book of Mormon daily. It is a book we regard as Holy Scripture and use hand in hand with the Holy Bible. It is a book that is precious to me.

Lately, I have been reading about the prophet Abinidi. Can I just say I love this guy? I never get tired of reading this story. He is really quite amazing; albeit not great at disguises…

I always get a kick out of the part of the story where, after he fled for his life from the city who wanted to kill him, goes back among the city in disguise. Then announces that he is Abinidi… I always wonder what part of the story I am missing. It seems if I were trying to get past someone, I wouldn’t tell them who I was. Maybe he was just trying to get INTO the city.

Anyhow, he is captured and taken to the king. The same one who he had been condemning for his sins. He is standing in the court of the king – with all his wicked priests – and begins teaching them. Calling them to repentance.

Well, as you can imagine, the wicked king doesn’t like it so much and tells his guards to seize Abinidi and kill him. Instead of shrinking in fear, Abinidi stands his ground. In the power of the Lord, he commands that nobody touch him because he is not done. The guards cower in the presence of this authority. Then Abinidi, instead of using this opportunity to run, teaches. Bears his testimony. Calls them to repentance.

When he is finished, he is restrained by the guards, his life in jeopardy. One of the king’s priests, Alma, believes Abinidi. He tries to stop the martyrdom of this prophet, but his own life is threatened, so he escapes to safety and records the words which Abinidi taught. It doesn’t say, and I always wonder, if Abinidi knew that someone believed him. If he knew that his stand for the truth mattered to someone. In the end, he seals his testimony with his blood as he is burned at the stake by the king and his wicked priests.

Alma goes on to teach the words of God, as taught by Abinidi, bringing many people to the knowledge of Christ. He raises a son who ends up being one of the greatest missionaries in the Book of Mormon, along with his friends. Thousands are affected. Thousands are brought to the knowledge of the word of God through the testimony of one man.

Through one man’s stand for truth.

It is an inspirational story of how standing up for what you believe can really make a difference. I love this picture by Arnold Friberg of the aging Abinidi standing his ground. I love the frightened guards. They, who are clothed with armor and weapons, cower in the presence of an older man. A prophet of God.

What's your opinion?

My son is learning about the Holocaust in 8th grade. I am glad. I really feel like this is an important lesson for the kids to learn. It was an awful chapter in our world’s history. We owe it to those affected to learn about it. I admire the Jewish people as a race and religion so much! I want my children to learn about their struggles and history.

That being said… I just don’t know what to think. My son brought home his folder the other day with the Star of David on it. He is required to “wear” this star on his folder or he has to be sent to a different room to work.

I like the idea – sort of. I have two concerns. First, isn’t the Star of David a sacred symbol for the Jewish people? Is it dishonoring their religion to display it and use it in this way? Second, there is a small part of me that is a little uncomfortable with my very Christian son carrying a symbol that declares the opposite of his beliefs. My beliefs.

I am curious what you all think. On one hand it is a fabulous lesson. History is smattered with people being exiled for their beliefs. What a poignant way to bring it home to an 8th grader.
On the other… well I just don’t know. I guess I am just a little uncomfortable.

Let me know what you think.

*** I LOVED reading everyone's opinion! There were such good points made. Thanks everyone who commented and got my brain turning. I love to see everyone's opinions here!***

Heart Attack! (The good kind)

We live in a great neighborhood where the children feel welcome at any of the neighbors homes. It isn’t unusual for me to walk outside and find a neighbor child or two in my yard or on my porch swing – without MY children.

So last night I was making dinner. All the kids were either at lessons or friends houses so it was pretty quiet. I began to hear giggling and talking. I was trying to figure out which child was home early with a friend -- or 7. The noise didn’t go away. In fact it began to sound a little like a party. And girls.

I decided I would step outside and crash the party. Give the kiddos a hard time. But when I opened the door I heard things like, “Oh crap, you were too loud” and “Hurry up” and “What do we do now?”

It was then I noticed the big van my friend drives. She is Achievement Day leader. Suddenly, I realized I had crashed a surprise. There were probably 20 different Achievement Day girls sticking little handmade hearts into our yard.

I quickly muttered something about not seeing anything and slinked back inside. (Then spied on the girls from a window while they finished their job.) And, even though they knew I had caught them, they still sent a very stealthy runner to ring the door bell and run. I laughed as I heard, “Hurry go, go” “Run faster!” Maybe, just maybe, they had believed me when I said I hadn’t seen them.

Turns out the heart attack was for my sweet hubby as a “thank you” for being in the bishopric. It came with adorable love notes and a thank you note. I don’t know what was better, listening to the giggles while the girls did their deed or seeing the smile on my husband’s face… I really think his heart just melted.

It was a fun day for our family.

Things I have learned as a mom.

When a child doesn’t want his picture taken, there is nothing you can do. But most importantly, don’t tell any of them they lost the bribe, in public. If you do, make sure the tables in the studio are bolted down and nobody minds screaming children. Result? 0 pictures.

When you purchase new carpet, you should know who the Queen of Clean is. Result? A few hours of patiently removing BLACK SHOE POLISH from our week old carpet.

When a child kicks a nurse in the head, locks himself in a bathroom and bolts to the exit, that child does not want a shot. Result? Shots.

If you leave your kids home alone, expect damage. Result? Goose egg on one boys head. Broken door to the room of the boy that caused the goose egg. (yes, they are supposed to be old enough to stay home alone)

When you are at a T-ball game and your son tells you he needs to go to the bathroom, find out “what kind” before you send him behind a bush. And don’t hesitate to throw out the underwear! Result? We tried to clean it up, but some things are better left untouched. Poor grounds crew.

When you give a child a real tool set, expect him to use it. Result? Hole in our stucco the size of a basketball.

When inviting guests over, warn them about flying boxes, balls and toys. Injury waivers are also a good idea. Result? New neighbor with a gash across her cheek.

If you don’t feed your children enough yummy treats, they will find their own. Result? Cockroach legs stuck between my sons teeth.

When your child throws up in public, don’t try to run to the bathroom with said child… it leaves a trail. Also important, don’t try to cover his mouth or catch it in your hands. Messy. Result? Never going to that Drug Store again!

When someone calls you “Ma’am” it is not meant to be an insult. Result? Chocolate!

When you tell your son to put the keys in the car, make sure he knows you mean on the seat… not IN the ignition. Result? Car and frightened child on the other side of the street!

When you take your stubborn child, who refuses to get dressed, to church in his underwear, hide some extra clothing in the car to save yourself a lot of explaining. Result? Son got dressed quickly before I could carry him inside.

When you have to carry your crying little boy into school because he doesn’t want to go, don’t let him see you cry. Result? Never had to do it again.

If something is too heavy, don’t try to carry it. Result? Falling over on my hiney with two boxes of paper reams tossed all over the hall. Teachers had to leave the classroom to see what all the commotion was.

If your child’s pants are wet after the Sun Wheel at California Adventure, the ride was probably too scary for him. Result? I don’t know, we never met the person who sat down after us.

When giving Sharing Time in primary, make sure your slip is securely fastened. Result? A slip around my ankles and no way to remove it gracefully.

When you are pregnant, never sneeze more than 12 feet away from the toilet. Result? The fastest running I ever did as a pregnant woman.

If you let your daughter brush your hair, expect pain! Result? See my sisters blog!

When a sticky handed, gooey faced toddler reaches for you, scoop him/her up. Result? The best hug you will ever get.

*** Yes ALL of these things happened to me... except for the hairbrush thing... that belongs to my sis! ***

Medieval Castles in Suburbia

Every sixth grade student at my children's school gets to make an accurate medieval castle. It has to be just like the ones we would find in Robin Hood. Historically accurate.

Of course with it being due on Monday, we got to work Saturday afternoon. We had some "issues" earlier that left J unable to build the castle with his buddy.

That went over like a lead brick.

Let's just say, I wasn't the most popular mom in the world. But we got to work. Nine hours later, just before the Sabbath, this is what J came up with. Amazing if you ask me. It was actually a fun part of my day to create this with him... even if I am not as much fun as his friend.

This castle is complete with rocky ledges, murder holes, moat, barbican, even a stable... J was very creative in how he wanted to build the castle.

He made sure everything was in the right spot, the right size and then labeled everything for the teacher. He was SO PROUD. He kept asking when I would blog about his castle.

So here it is... with the creative addition of a fictional dragon flying over the castle.

Notice the catapult in the "outer bailey" -- J loaded it with a rock and aimed it at the dragon.

Here is my VERY proud and VERY tired 6th grader. He had no trouble falling asleep tonight. Wish him luck on a good grade!