On the Parenting Front Line

Reading All Day Long

2011-11-16T20:03:00.003-07:00

I had this fantasy in my head for many years, and it went like this: I would get a job where all I did was read all day long. Eight hours a day, a constantly changing stack of books which in turn entertain and provoke deep thoughts, just me and my La-Z-Girl recliner. That's the life.

Or is it? (Dun, dun, dunnnn!)

I've had the chance to test out my all-reading-all-the-time theory this semester, and wouldn't you know, it's not quite as fun as I expected it to be. By the end of the semester, here's what I will have read:

Writing for Mass Media: about 200 pages
American History Before 1865: about 450 pages (plus a 300 page textbook, the spine of which is perfectly intact and will remain so)
Literature of the Sacred: 1,659

Seriously, one class has over 1600 pages assigned, and that's a conservative estimate. I'm not even including the two 200 page books and many articles suggested as research for the paper due in at the end of the semester. I've done a fair amount of skimming where I could and picked up a couple of audiobook versions of novels so I could squeeze every drop of productivity out of my day. This semester is truly testing my love of reading. I may have to take up a new hobby, like bullying nerds or playing kickball or whatever it is that non-readers do for fun.

I knew when I first saw the syllabus for my lit class that it was going to be a killer, so I have no one but myself to blame for this deluge of paper and ink. No one but myself...and my professor, of course. Not only did he assign an acre's worth of dead trees to be read in 15 short weeks, but he made the class so freaking interesting that I couldn't possibly make myself drop it. This is probably my second-favorite class I've ever taken. It has a lot in common with my #1 favorite class, Ethics and Values. Both are extremely thought-provoking--I lay in bed and churn over what we discussed. Both make me examine what I believe and why. But I don't remember Ethics and Values even requiring a textbook, so it's going to stay the winner. Sometimes practicality trumps quality.

Since misery loves company, and I'm all about the misery this semester, here's a list of the books I've been reading.

History:
The Jesuit Relations: about the French Jesuit missionaries in Canada during the 1600's. They were trying to convert the Native ummm...Canadians? Wait, what do you call them in Canada? I'm going with Indians here, because the book was all about being not politically correct; the Jesuits called them savages and worse. The missionaries were required to send yearly reports back to France, telling about all their baptizing and conquests and such. I couldn't read this without being outraged at the treatment of the Indians and the arrogance and superiority exhibited by the Europeans. Outrage--it's the emotion of the semester.

Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass and Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, by Frederick Douglass and Harriet Jacobs, respectively: More outrage, this time over slavery. I'm not quite finished with Slave Girl, but when I'm done I'm going to write a paper about the role of Christianity in the lives of the slaveholders. The hypocrisy! It's insane. The violence and mental torture is too much for me to read sometimes.

Literature of the Sacred: The Literary History of Adam & Eve

Eve & Adam - this is our main textbook, which has a cartoon picture of a naked Eve on the front, causing much uncomfortableness for my tween-age son. The book is an anthology of documents that show how the Adam and Eve story has been interpreted for the last, oh, 2500 years or so. The fascinating thing about the story in Genesis is that it is basically a blank slate for each culture/society to write their own meaning onto. Does your society value women? Then Eve saved humanity from being stuck in a boring garden. Does your society value men? Then Eve was an evil temptress. Want to keep women subject to men? Stress the superiority of Adam. Reading how people (priests, rabbis, novelists, etc) interpreted Adam and Eve tells more about that culture than it does about Adam and Eve.

Book of Urizen by William Blake: Almost completely incomprehensible. Thank goodness for wikipedia, so I could actually understand what was going on, mostly.

Frankenstein by Mary Shelly: This book was slow to start but picked up speed further in. It's obviously a Creation story and an entertaining one at that. My professor wrote his dissertation on Frankenstein, so we spent a good bit of time talking about it. I read Dracula two years ago for a Brit Lit class, and frankly, I enjoyed Dracula more than Frankenstein. I don't know how that's relevant to this blog post, but there you go.

Cain by Lord Byron: This is a play, I think, and I skimmed it.

Autobiography of Adam and Eve by Mark Twain: The first and only (so far) book in this class that I would read again for fun. Twain writes (in two separate stories) Adam's diary and Eve's diary from the time that they are first created to when they're kicked out of the garden. It's funny and it has that great timelessness--written like 150 years ago and still nailing the stereotypes of men and women. I highly recommend reading this.

Just because I like you, here's a link to the free Kindle version of Eve's Diary and Adam's Diary. Read Adam's Diary first.

Tomorrow's Eve by Villiers de L'Isle-Adam: The other book my professor wrote his dissertation about, but this was deeper than Frankenstein and less entertaining. It was written in the later 1800's and contains the first use of the word "android," to describe the robot a fictional Thomas Edison created to be the girlfriend of a friend of his. If you like science fiction, this might be of interest to you, as it's an early entry into that genre. My prof considers it one of the most important books no one's read. I'm just glad to be done with it.

God's Grace by Bernard Malamud: This one is on tap for Thanksgiving break. Also sci-fi, and maybe post-apocalyptic to boot. The only thing I know is that Prof. Peterson warned the class that there is a scene of human-monkey sex, and the most disturbing part of the scene is that by the time it happens, the idea of human-monkey sex is not disturbing.

Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett: This is also on the syllabus for December. I've read it before, wasn't impressed the first time, but then I tend to read for plot first and this play has basically none. But it's one of those classic things that English majors have to read and pretend to find really, really deep and meaningful. This time I might just rent the video instead.

Women and Authority by Maxine Hanks (editor): Now this is an interesting book. It's a collection of essays written by Mormon (or soon-to-be-former-Mormons) about LDS feminist issues. When I told Prof. Peterson that I wanted to write my final paper on women in the LDS Church, he looked at me carefully and asked, "Are you a practicing Mormon?" I said that I was, and I could see him weighing whether or not to encourage me in this topic. Finally he asked me, "What are you going to do with information you find disturbing?" A good question. The problem is, when you spend ten weeks (so far) studying women's issues in a religious context, questions are going to pop up. It's fine to say, "Oh, so that's why Paul was such a jerk about women two thousand years ago," but the next thought is, "I wonder what my religion teaches about this issue." I told Prof. Peterson that it's too late--I already had disturbing information, and I think the best way to deal with it is just lay it all out on the table and accept the good with the bad. When it comes to information, I have to go all in. He relaxed a little--I think it would have bothered him to have a faithful member leave the church over what we learned in his class. He said, "The important thing is for you to stay in. The church won't change because of what people outside the church say or do--it'll only change from within." And then he gave me this link to the book Women and Authority .

He was right to warn me. Thought-provoking? Oh, yes. Disturbing? Also yes. I don't agree with a lot that the authors in the book say, and in fact several of the authors seem to contradict each other as well. But the ideas in the book--primarily about the equality/inequality of women in the church, the church hierarchy and women's place in it, and women's relationship to the priesthood--several of the ideas reinforced questions I've asked myself. For example, why aren't women ever asked to pray in General Conference? Why does so much time and money go into Cub & Boy Scouts but not Activity Days and Young Women? Why don't sister missionaries get to stay for two whole years, and why do they have to wait two years longer than the boys? I've had wonderful male leaders and I sustain all of them, but sometimes I have to ask myself why men and not women? Fundamentally, why? Women and Authority looks at that question and comes up with a lot of disturbing answers. I don't know exactly what I believe on this topic right now, but I know that the Holy Ghost will confirm the truth of all things, and that's what I'm relying on.

Well, that was a little bit of a diversion, wasn't it? Possibly I'll write more on the topic of women in the LDS church at a future time, after I've written my paper about it and, of course, when I've finally finished reading the 500 pages I've got left this semester. If I ever finish the 500 pages I've got left. In the meantime, if there's an earthquake in Utah, you can find my broken body crushed under the weight of too many books. And here I thought reading all day would be fun.

Today's Very Dumb Thing

2011-10-24T16:53:00.004-06:00

Sometimes I do dumb things. Like not turning the wheel sharply enough when backing Ryan's car out of the garage, causing the passenger mirror to hit the wall of the garage and snap the plastic housing into pieces. That was one dumb thing I did today, but not the dumbest, not by a long shot.

I have this idea in my head that I can do anything if I try hard enough. I don't know if my mother specifically said those words to me once when I was a kid and she was trying to get me to do my 5th grade math homework, or if it was just implied in an effort to "give me wings" or whatever. Anyhow, the idea stuck, and it's served me well, for the most part. But the dark side of that theory is a little bit of hubris, that feeling like I'm invincible and there's nothing I can't do. Arrogance, I think.

Today's Very Dumb Thing started innocently enough. Ryan and I were looking at the latest in a long line of get-thin-quick schemes, and landed on Boot Camps. I found one that was only thirty minutes a day, three days a week and had a Groupon available. Sounds great, right? Never mind that I weigh as much as I did when I was nine months pregnant with Brad. Never mind that my current exercise regimen consists of ab curls to roll myself out of my La-Z-Boy chair when I'm too La-Z to flip down the footrest. Never mind that the treadmill I bought six weeks ago serves as a 6-inch step for reaching things in my closet. I can do anything if I try hard enough!

Then yesterday, the day before my first Boot Camp session, I'm browsing UVU's website and find buried in the Student Health and Wellness section that the school offers free Zumba classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays from noon-1. I know, right?! I love Zumba! So much! And I'm already at school until 11:50 those days! And it's FREE! How lucky am I to find the class I love at the absolute most convenient time ever and for zero dollars?! I tell everyone in the house about the class and I'm so excited that I have to start right away and check it out. That means Monday, today, the same day as my first Boot Camp class.

How come the dumbness is so blatant in hindsight when the original plan seemed so realistic? I mean, Boot Camp is only thirty minutes long, so how hard can it be? How hard can it be, indeed!

I am now going to skip the details of both the Zumba class and the Boot Camp class and sum it up like this: Bad, bad idea. Pick one or the other, but not both. By the time Boot Camp was over, I had all of the normal hard-workout symptoms: shaky legs, sore muscles, headache. But it's worse. My ears are pounding. I've got this cough. My throat is like sandpaper. My back is shaky, which is wiggling all the back fat. The roof of my mouth hurts. Why would the roof of my mouth hurt? I have no idea, but it does.

I stopped at a gas station at the mouth of Provo Canyon on the way home to get some chocolate milk, which is recommended as a "recovery drink" after a workout. I'm hoping that, due to its location, the gas station employees see red-faced, shaking, sweaty, mouth-breathing post-workout victims all the time. I bet I didn't even stand out! Until, that is, my debit card slipped out of my trembling fingers and it took me a full ten seconds to bend all the way down to the ground and pick it up. And then I messed up the swiping/pin entry/button-pushing three separate times because nothing seemed to be making sense in my head. Now I should put in my pin? No, now? Green is for what?

The bottom line is this: technically, I was right. I can do anything I want if I try hard enough, even if it's dumb things like going from sloth-mode to two workouts in one day. But it's really not a good idea. Not only will it hurt really, really badly, but it will make me want to eat ice cream to soothe my exercise-induced sore throat. Or the Halloween candy that I bought a week early. Seriously, I'm on a roll with Very Dumb Things this week.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to super-glue Ryan's passenger mirror housing back together. Somehow, that seems like a much more manageable thing to do.

Growing Up

2011-09-09T21:42:00.003-06:00

I broke down while doing the dishes tonight. There's a limit to how long you can do a thankless job without it affecting your mental health, and for me, that limit is two weeks. Two weeks is how long it's been since Shauna left and I got shunted back into the position of dishwasher. Two weeks and I end up crying in the garage when I take out the recycling.

I came up with three possible explanations for today's waterworks. 1) I feel unappreciated, 2) I am chronically dissatisfied with my role as housewife and crying about kitchen cleanup is a manifestation of that, or 3) I am acting overly emotionally because I am depressed. The solution to these possibilities is 1) Suck it up, 2) Suck it up, and 3) WHO ARE YOU CALLING OVERLY EMOTIONAL?!?!?! Honestly, though, I think 1) or 2) are the most likely scenarios, because I've felt pretty good for a while and it wasn't until I surveyed the kitchen disaster and the overflowing sink that I could feel this rage building inside, hot and clenching and explosive.

As the kids filed down to bed I said, "You know, if you're old enough to cook, you're old enough to do your own dishes." One of my children (who shall remain nameless) replied a little snarkily, "I'll do dishes when I cook." I turned my laser-eyes on this darling offspring of mine and growled, in a voice like Sigourney Weaver when she was possessed by Zuul, "You'll do dishes when you EAT!" Burned to a cinder, said child slowly backed away and closed the door to his room. Okay, so overly emotional probably isn't too far off in describing this reaction.

I tried deep breathing, I turned on some music, I distracted myself by thinking of possible topics for my next school paper, but all I could really think was "i hate doing dishes i hate doing dishes i hate doing dishes i really really hate doing dishes!!" Why am I investing so much venom into such a petty situation? It's not like I'm giving birth every day after dinner--it's dishes, it takes fifteen minutes, afterwards the kitchen looks nice. A clean kitchen always makes me happy, but apparently not happy enough to clean it without massive resentment.

Chronic dissatisfaction with my current life's role is a hard trait to confess to, and even harder to fix. What do I do, hire someone else to wash dishes and scrub the bathtub and create an incentive chart to get a) the four-year-old to stop peeing in her panties and b) the fourteen-year-old to practice his instruments so he won't fail band? Of course not. Even if a service like that existed, it'd probably cost a fortune. 'Cause you know why? A mother's role is really hard. And now we're full circle.

Feeling unappreciated is easily solved--I can either talk to the people whose cereal I'm scraping out of plastic bowls and teach them that when someone cleans up their messes, they need to show gratitude, or I can decide that I'm not rinsing out spit-filled, sunflower-seed-shell-holding cups in order to be thanked. I'm doing it out of love. And service. Charity never faileth, unlike the garbage disposal, which faileth every so often.

I'm reading a book called Screamfree Marriage right now, and the main advice that I took from the book is "Grow up." It's a kick-in-the-pants kind of book, this one, but it's good. Grow up, Emily. Be the adult here. This is the life you want, even if it's not the daily chores you want. An adult does her job, even if her job is running after the garbage man in her bathrobe and her ten-year-old's flip flops. An adult gets satisfaction from a clean kitchen. An adult does not create a Google calendar counting down the days until her youngest child starts first grade. An adult does not sit on the garage steps, crying about how hard her life is. If you want this life, sometimes you've got to do the dishes.

I want this life. I'll do the dishes, tonight at least. Tomorrow, I'm teaching the kids how to load a dishwasher.

Girls Are Different From Boys, A Visual Explanation

2011-09-07T15:15:00.003-06:00

Before I had Darcey, I had three boys. They were typical boys, I suppose, in that they liked cars and balls and peeing outside. Then I had a girl, who is typical also, in that she likes pink and barbies and telling on her brothers. Sometimes the kids break stereotypes, as in when my boys are melodramatic and overly emotional. Sometimes they don't.

As a visual representation of how girls are different from boys, please see Exhibit A: First Day of School Pictures.

Here's Zack, looking excited for the first day of second grade.

Noah. The enthusiasm for first day of school pictures is waning. But he's a good sport.

Zack and Noah. You can't even tell how much they whined about having to stand that close to each other.

Brad. Under extreme duress. Would rather die than have his first day of school picture taken.

Here's Darcey. She's going into preschool with flair! And jazz hands! I don't think my boys could strike a pose like that if they tried--and they would NEVER try!

Are boys and girls different? I say yes.

The Way It's Supposed To Work

2011-08-07T22:51:00.001-06:00

For a long time, Sundays were a day to be feared in our house. The term "day of rest" would garner ironic laughter at best and glowering resentment at worst. The kids, bored by the restrictions meant to make the day special, would harass each other to a degree not seen any other day of the week. Ryan and I would alternately bark at the kids and slump on the couch in companionable misery, longing for the day we could enjoy what the Sabbath was really made for: the Sunday Afternoon Nap.

While we aren't at napping stage yet, recently we've been making great strides in that direction. It's crazy how we get so fixated on something miserable, and when the situation gradually improves, we don't even really notice. Today we had what might be considered an ideal Sunday. I won't use the "p" word (cough *perfect*) but I will say that today we were Ensign-cover-worthy. It was that good.

I was gone most of the morning at YW Presidency meetings, so I'm going to go out on a limb and assume, since the house was still standing and no one was crying when I walked in the door, that the morning went well. The kids got dressed without complaints, even when I had to send Zack back downstairs to change his pants, because the blue slacks did not match the black pinstripe suit coat. Noah discovered that he carries the recessive grilled cheese sandwich gene, which apparently skipped a generation and went from my father straight to his grandson. He toasted some perfectly golden sandwiches for everyone before AND after church. Brad got himself up, showered, dressed, and out the door by 9 to collect fast offerings. He did lay on the couch and moan a lot about how hungry he was, especially while other family members were scarfing grilled cheese, but I only throw that in there to prove that we aren't the "p" word. After church, Noah made my favorite snickerdoodles while Ryan and Shauna went to visit their grandmother in the assisted living facility and the kids watched "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat," the version with Donny Osmond, which makes it practically doctrinal.

When Ryan and Shauna came home, the whole family put on a talent show, organized by Zack. (Okay, I know it sounds like I'm just making stuff up now but I swear to you, we had an honest to goodness TALENT SHOW.) Zack played Heart and Soul on the piano, Darcey danced to Zack's piano accompaniment, Noah fed us cookies, Brad played the trumpet, Ryan drew a picture, I sang "A Hundred and Sixty Acres" by Marty Robbins, Shauna cleaned the family room, and Starbucks barked when Brad rang the doorbell (the dog is very, very good at his talent.) The family adjourned to the kitchen, where some of the kids willingly ate salad for a late dinner and played a game where they had a conversation entirely using questions. ("Do you like salad?" "Did somebody say that I didn't?")

If that wasn't enough family fun, we ended up in the living room with a board game called "Would You Rather." We skipped the board game part and just asked the questions: Would you rather have eyebrows that make a complete circle around your face OR flat eyelashes that stick out 10 inches and cannot be trimmed? Would you rather have an alarm clock that gives you a mild, yet jolting electric shock OR one that completely drenches you with ice-cold water? Would you rather live in a world where you needed a quarter to get into every bathroom (including the one in your home) OR where every bathroom only had one square of tissue? We decided that the eyebrows are a much better option than the eyelashes, we were evenly split with the alarm clock issue, and I'm going to install coin-operated locks on the bathrooms because nobody seems to have a problem with that. (Except me. I'd rather carry around a spare roll than a bag of change.)

At bedtime, we spent a solid five minutes deciding who was going to say the family prayer. In the past, this would have been five minutes of contending, cajoling, threatening, begging, bribing, and eventually praying, although with such a bad attitude that I'm shocked lightning hasn't struck us all dead many times over. Ryan came up with a brilliant system a couple months back: we play a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. This is not some wimpy elimination-round type contest, either. All of us throw at the same time and the goal is for all of us to beat one single person. (If one person beats all the rest of us, say Noah has paper and the rest of us has rock, he's out.) We keep throwing, over and over, until finally all five of us have scissors and Brad has paper and we cheer and yell because after a while we start to lose faith that it will ever end. It always does, though, and the grand loser says the prayer. There has never been a single episode of crying over losing, which in itself is a miracle. The kids went off to bed without complaining or coming up fifteen times to "get a drink" or whatever lame-o excuse they're using, and without even fighting in their room so loudly that a referee needs to interfere (this would be Noah and Zack.)

Honestly, if I read an account like this three years ago, when Sundays made me cry, I would have hated the pretentious Perfect Mother who displays her Perfect Children and who couldn't possibly understand what it was like to be me. Then I would feel a combination of jealousy, resentment, self-pity, and fear: if other people can get do Sundays right, why can't I? So the reason I'm writing this is 1) to have written proof to myself that this day wasn't a figment of my imagination, or possibly a hallucination caused by a head wound incurred when I slipped on those $#!^%$ Legos that coat my floor and 2) to shine a beacon of hope onto those of you who are a few years behind me in child-rearing. It does get easier! For reals! And we don't have to wait for those precious years after our kids are grown and before they move back in with their wives and children! Maybe someday soon we can even (gasp!) take a Sunday Afternoon Nap!

This Is Probably Not Worth Reading. Hooray!

2011-08-07T18:17:00.000-06:00

Well, I've had some good ideas in my day, but apparently moving my blog to a professional-ish website wasn't one of them. I thought that I would take my writing more seriously if I had something a little fancier, the same way I keep promising that if we completely re-landscape the backyard, I'll actually sit outside.

Here's the truth about my attempt at a personal website. My favorite quote is by Ben Franklin: "If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write things worth reading or do things worth writing." So the goal with my new site was to write things worth reading; presumably, doing things worth writing would come later. Seems straight-forward, right? Problem is, it takes an awful lot of self-confidence to say, "This thing that I just wrote is worth reading." I've definitely written a few things that I love, but how can I stare at a blank blog page and tell myself to write something that people will like. That kind of pressure does not produce quality writing, I'll tell you that much. It produces months-long writer's block, is what it produces. Couple that with this lovely bit: the first strangers I told the name of my site to all thought that the site was for book reviews. Having to say, out loud, that I thought my own writing was worth reading...well, I don't have that kind of moxie. Maybe someday. But not now.

So I'm back. I brought over the 40 or so posts I made over the last year--the formatting's kind of funky, especially with photos, but whatever. I want to go back to writing about my life and my kids and my opinions on reality tv shows and my endless deliberations on what major to pick (yeah, I'm not making a compelling case for continued reading here, am I?) Most of all, I want to go back to the pressure-free environment, where everything I write does not have to be worth reading. Strangely, I produce my best stuff that way.

England-Wednesday

2011-06-08T22:58:00.000-06:00

I've hit my limit of days-in-a-row that I can travel without taking a rest day. I'm totally wiped out. No matter, I'm on vacation and I'm not going to stop until I physically injure myself or fall asleep in a cathedral. (It's a possibility. I'm that tired.)

So on Wednesday, Dan and Mom and I started our morning with an episode of Jeopardy. I used to be much better at Jeopardy than I am now, but it also doesn't help to watch it at 9:30 in the morning when my brain cells aren't all firing yet. Mom was babysitting Anna. Dan asked if I wanted to go for a jog with him and I said no, and he said please? and I said, okay but I'm going to be slow. We ended up walking/jogging for almost 2.5 miles. It was fun, and I was slow.

Kim came to pick up Anna but instead they came with us sightseeing. We went to Ripon Cathedral, which is a gorgeous old building. It has a crypt that was built in 627 - it's the original foundation of the church building. It wasn't the type of crypt that I imagined, with skeletons and coffins and rats and stuff. I guess I shouldn't get all of my archeological knowledge from Indiana Jones. It was a tiny, cramped stairway down to a small room, maybe 8 feet by 6 feet or so, with niches carved into the walls. The niches were empty but in the olden days (like 1300 years ago) the niches would have held relics. The crypt itself was meant to be a place of meditation. It was lit by candlelight back then, but even with the electric lights today it was dim. Regardless of the lack of dead bodies, it was still creepy down there. Dan and I stood there for a couple of minutes, then looked at each other with an all-righty-then expression and went back up the stairs to fresh air and daylight.

Speaking of fresh air, there is a downside to all this green farmland and it's called slurry. Slurry is this toxic-waste-smelling product that farmers spray on their fields. I guess it's liquefied manure; all I know is that I'm trying hard to remember a smell worse that this one and it's a challenge. Most bad smells are random, temporary things - a fellow passenger's b.o., the smell of vomit on a bus, skunks, finding that cup of milk under the car's seat. This is constant and icky and I don't think I could get used to it. If I could put a scratch-n-sniff on my photos so you could smell it, I wouldn't do it, because I like you too much to subject you to this smell.

While we were walking out of Ripon and through the town, Dan remembered a place that we had to go to: an ice cream farm that sells a flavor called Black Cherry Whim Wham. Oh my gosh I have never heard a more gorgeous set of words - an ice cream farm, black cherry whim wham. I can't stand it, it's too great. Dan's the only one that understood my outrageous excitement just hearing the words 'black cherry whim wham.' that's why I wanted to come here and see my family, because they are the few people in the whole world who speak my language. And my language, apparently, now includes the phrases "ice cream farm" and "black cherry whim wham."

After our ice cream endeavour, we stopped by an old abbey, called Jervaulx, and looked at the ruins there. There just isn't anything old like this in America. Okay, maybe there's some native American stuff that's this old--anyone know of anything?

I'm writing this on Thursday morning, as I lounge on the couch, Mom is making a welcome home sign for Tim, Dad and Dan are on the base buying balloons. When Mom and Dad go to the airport to pick up Tim, Dan and I are going to York. I'd really rather take a nap, but I'm on vacation in a country that has thousand-year-old buildings. Maybe I'll sleep on the train.

Pictures.

From England-Wednesday, posted by Emily Simmons on 6/08/2011 (43 items)

: This is Ripon Cathedral.

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: Dan told me about a place we needed to go to: an ice cream farm. AN ICE CREAM FARM. ...

: I have four words for you: Black Cherry Whim Wham. Say it out loud. Again. It's t...

: Eating waffle cones. I had a scoop of lemon twist and one of black cherry whim wham....

: I bet you know what flavor Dan got.

: And for my second cone, I had mandarin and--you guessed it--black cherry whim wham.

: This is Jervaulx Abbey, a Cisterian 12th century monastery. It was in use from 1150 ...

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: It was surprisingly difficult to get up there.

: Look at my mom, isn't she pretty?

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: You know what these look like? Coffins. There were also coffin-shaped stones laid i...

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: We saw a scale model of the abbey and it was enormous. I wish I could have seen it. ...

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: This is the view of the rest of the grounds. It's a huge field full of grazing sheep...

: Sheep. Lots and lots of them.

: That's my niece!

Generated by Facebook Photo Fetcher

England - Tuesday

2011-06-07T11:31:00.000-06:00

This is Oxford, which I really liked. Pictures.

From England-Tuesday, posted by Emily Simmons on 6/07/2011 (36 items)

: I thought I'd be able to remember the different buildings we looked at on our tour of...

: Ooh, I know this one. It's Exeter College. The colleges are where students live, it...

: That's an old, uh, wall or something. It's the oldest wall of Exeter, or something l...

: Sure looks old, don't it?

: Still at Exeter.

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: This is the organ in the Exeter chapel, or more accurately, the pipes of the organ. ...

: That's a cool old tower.

: Oh, I know this one. It's a dome they built for Shelley...or was it Keats? Hold on,...

: Some more lovely old architechture.

: All Soul's College, maybe? I was standing at the back of the tour and the guide was ...

: Yeah, I don't know what this is. But it's great!

: These are grotesques. They're like gargoyles, except they're different in some way t...

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: This is the Bridge of Sighs, copied after a bridge in Venice. The bridge in venice h...

: Apparently I'll take a picture of any old thing.

: Here's the bridge of sighs with some lady's hair in the way.

: Again with the hair! Ugh!

: Forget it. I didn't even want to take this picture anymore.

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: I'm 99% sure this is inside the Divinity School.

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: Yep, Divinity School. Where all sorts of young, brilliant people used to meet to dis...

: Ceilings are the best, aren't they?? Seriously, this is 400 years old. I love that.

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: This is the Convocation House inside the Divinity School. Kings held Parliament ther...

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: That's the view of the chair from the next room over, the court room.

: Someone should really teach me how to hold a camera straight.

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: This might be part of the Bodleian library. The columns are neo-classical roman colu...

: Must be in the neighborhood of the library.

: Back to random old buildings.

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England - Monday

2011-06-07T11:28:00.000-06:00

Mom and I headed out on a whirlwind trip to the almost-South of England. We ended up driving 10 or so hours over two days, or more accurately, Mom drove ten or so hours. We went to Warwick Castle, Stratford-upon-Avon, Avebury, and Stonehenge. And it's almost 12:30 in the morning, and I want to go to sleep, so without further ado, pictures.

"Warwick Castle, Stratford-Upon-Avon, Avebury, Stonehenge"

From England - Monday, posted by Emily Simmons on 6/07/2011 (58 items)

: So this is Warwick Castle. It was originally built in 1068 by William the Conqueror.

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: I think I took five pictures of this part of the castle, called the Mound. I love th...

: We missed the jousting tournament by one day, dang it, but here's a fake knight in sh...

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: You know what I love? Old churches. Love them to bits.

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: The view from the top of the Mound. Quaint, isn't it? Makes you think that life mus...

: I'm slightly blurry, but that's me in front of Warwick. Pronounced warrick, btw. Do...

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: Hey there's that church again.

: The towers are the oldest parts of the castle, dating back to the 1300's.

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: Doesn't this landscape just look right for having a castle? I think so.

: That's my mom!

: That's a nice one.

: Now we're on top of the tower, or one of them at least. Once you started climbing, y...

: I think that's my favorite of the many pictures I took of the mound.

: The problem with Warwick is that it's a little bit Disney-fied. They're trying to ma...

: Ah, that's better. From the top of the towers you can get a better look at this fanc...

: Teensy weensy stairs for my big feet. Going down was more treacherous than going up....

: Or is this my favorite? Hmmmm...

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: The parting shot at Warwick. Can't believe I didn't take more pictures of the towers...

: So this is Anne Hathaway's cottage, or part of it at least. My camera doesn't have a...

: I cannot get enough of the trees. And for my neighbors who wonder why I keep plantin...

: This is Avebury. It's a stone circle that's theoretically a little younger (500 year...

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: This stone circle is so large that part of the town was built inside it, it's 420 met...

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: Part of the circle had a whole flock of sheep grazing. And a whole flock's worth of ...

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: How'd you like to have a piece of a 4000 year old possibly religious monument in your...

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: Hmmm, I'm not sure what I was trying to take a picture of. Maybe that vaguely church...

: And there she is, Stonehenge.

: And there she is, my mom.

: It's so cool to see something that you've only ever seen pictures of. Although now t...

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: I think this one's my favorite. The lighting's a little spooky. No, it's Mysterious...

: That lump over to the left of center is a barrow, a big burial mound.

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: The sun came out at the end of the day.

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England - Sunday

2011-06-05T09:44:00.000-06:00

I'm going to try to be brief on this trip, so as to save myself the aggravation of getting behind. Great flight, love my family, saw some old stuff, the end.

Okay, maybe longer than that.

I flew in on Saturday afternoon and my parents took me to Drew & Kim's house, where I made polite conversation and tried not to fall asleep sitting up on their couch. Actually, I was fairly alert for most of the time, and it's easy to stay awake around my family because we talk about interesting stuff. During yesterday's conversation we talked about dystopian novels, breast-feeding other people's babies, Mark Twain, the guy who invented graphs, doulas, and the gruffalo. I love talking to my family.

So now I've seen the inside of two British houses (Drew's, my parents.) For all that they have an identical function, they are quirkily different. And I'm never quite sure what to do with the new things I find. My parents' sinks have two faucets--one for hot and one for cold water. Great for when you're brushing your teeth, because who wants to brush with warm water, am I right? Washing your hands is a different proposition altogether. You really have to commit--are you going to take your germ-phobia seriously and risk a second-degree burn to wash your hands in hot water, or are you going to weenie out and wash with melted-glacier water? Me, I go for the cold every time. At Drew and Kim's I went to the bathroom and found a cord with a handle hanging from the ceiling. As I went about my business, I wondered--is it a toilet flushing mechanism? Why would it be on the other side of the room? Or maybe a bell-pull, for calling your butler? Or an emergency rip-cord of some sort? Turns out it's the light switch. The Brits don't want you electrocuting yourself by flipping a switch with wet hands, even though the room I was in was a 'toilet' and not a 'bathroom' and as such had no running water and the only way I could have hands wet enough to electrocute myself is if I actually fell into the toilet, so the whole hanging light cord thing was wasted on me.

I went to church with my parents and one woman, who apparently was trying to get on my mom's good side, asked Mom if I was her sister. A couple other people asked how we were related--apparently the mother-daughter connection is not as obvious as it used to be, back before the years had their way with me. Sigh. (Yes, yes, I know that 34 is not that old, but the reminders of being 34 sting a little bit.)

I came home from church and took a nap, which was delightful. Drew and Kim and Anna came over and we all hung out for a while. Dad went up to sleep for a couple of hours before his midnight shift started and the rest of us went to Knaresborough castle. The castle used to be a huge area, but all that's left is the King's tower and some pieces of the wall. Kim is trying desperately to go into labor so we walked down into the moat (cool) and back around the grounds. Anna fell on the path--which I will take absolutely no accountability for--and when she went down a second time, she was pretty much done. (The second time I was nowhere near her, but I don't think it's done much to endear me to her.)

And now I am sitting down to a pint with Mom, she's got Banana Split and I have Phish Food. (Ben and Jerry's. I was hoping for a pint=British pub kind of connection, but I wasn't sure if it was clear.) Tomorrow Mom and I will head south for some sightseeing - Monday is Warwick Castle, Stratford-upon-Avon, Avebury, and Stonehenge. Tuesday is Oxford. Wednesday is (hopefully) York.

Without further ado, pictures. (PS - This is a new photo managing thingy I installed today - it grabs my Facebook photos and automatically puts it in the post, so if you're my FB friend, it's nothing new.)

From England, posted by Emily Simmons on 6/05/2011 (25 items)

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: Knaresborough Castle. The original grounds had a castle in 1100ish but this castle w...

: IMG_3697

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: Viaduct over the River Nidd. There's a prophecy that says if this bridge ever collaps...

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: I don't think this shade of green exists in Utah.

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: This is the ruins of a wall around Knaresborough castle, as seen from the dry moat.

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: This sign is the old market prices for renting a stall in Knaresborough. I don't kno...

: The oldest chemist shoppe in England. Or so they say.

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Cruisin' Wednesday and Thursday

2011-04-21T05:23:00.000-06:00

Wednesday - Cabo San Lucas

Normally when I stop writing on vacation it is either because a) we're having too much fun or b) I'm miserable and don't want to talk about it. Disneyland last year was the latter, fortunately this trip is the former. By the end of the day, I'm too wiped to think creatively and I think, "I'll just write extra tomorrow." Which of course doesn't happen tomorrow either, and thus the snowball rolls. I'm going to try to recap the highlights of the last three days.

Ryan, my dad, and the boys went on an Extreme Canopy Tour, which is kind of a misnomer. A canopy tour is a zipline experience that goes through the jungle treetops (i.e., the canopy.) So it was a little surprising when the "canopy tour" took place in the desert with nary a tree to be found. Plenty of cliffs, though, and some of the ziplines were 1/4 mile long. They loved it. The company they used was Costa Azul and I booked it with www.cabosanlucastours.net, who gave us a much better deal than going through the cruise ship. While the boys were touring the non-existent canopy, my mom and I took Darcey and walked around Cabo. It was basically streets of souvenir shops that sold variations of the same things, over and over again. The street vendors were aggressive but not overly so. I don't like buying things from vendors like this - I feel like they're looking at me like I'm a sucker and there's pretty much no way I can change their opinion of me. I'm the worst barterer ever. Just tell me how much the dang trinket costs and I'll pay it - don't turn my shopping experience into embarrassing proof of my gringo-ness.

My dad won another ship in Super Duper Trivia. I started thinking that my cause was hopeless and I'd be leaving the cruise empty handed. But that was okay - it was mostly fun just answering the questions; I didn't have to win to have fun. (Yeah, that's what all losers tell themselves.)

We went back to the restaurant for dinner that night and our waiter Welly looked genuinely hurt when he asked where we had been for the last two nights. I never understood the idea that people would form relationships with their waiter on a cruise...until we met Welly. He's from the Philippines, he works for six months on the ship and then gets two months off at home. He's got a 1 year old son so he's super attentive to my kids. He cuts Darcey's dinner into bite size pieces at the table for her. At Friday's dinner he spent ten minutes at least making an origami Optimus Prime out of a children's menu for Zack. He remembers where the kids sat once and the kids menus are always waiting on those seats when we get there. He's friendly and you get the feeling that he would do anything to make sure you're happy with your dinner. And he doesn't do it in a fake or condescending way, like he's only doing it to get a good tip. Other than the second Elegant Night on Friday, I think it was the unspoken family decision that we wouldn't miss a dinner in the restaurant again. We wouldn't want to disappoint Welly.

Speaking of food, here's my opinion of the food: it's pretty good. Quantity is of course the food's best selling point - there's the restaurant that's open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, then there's the buffet restaurant that's open from early in the morning until sometime at night. Pizza and ice cream are available 24 hours a day. There's a wide variety of food to choose from - regular buffet, deli, Indian, sushi, and more. There's plenty of options to please the 3300+ cruisers who eat every day. The only bad thing about the food is that because it has to please so many people, they make the food a little on the bland side. No strong flavors - no garlic, few onions, even the french fries can stand a little extra salt. The restaurant food is (I think) better than the buffet food on the Lido deck, but the barbeque sauce I had on the ribs had little more flavor than ketchup, and that's just a shame. The desserts are plentiful and don't suffer from the same problems as the other food - everyone raves (and rightly so) about the chocolate melting cake, but I'm not a huge chocolate fan so my favorite dessert was the bread pudding. Mmmm, it was delicious. The worst part of traveling with kids is my reliance on fast food and familiar places - by the time I get home, I never want to eat another burger again, ever. But this trip isn't like that at all. Yeah, Zack's had pizza for approximately 14 meals this week, but that's okay, because I've had filet mignon (fantastic!) and pasta and prime rib and other wonderful foods that were definitely not McDonalds.

Thursday, Puerto Vallarta

On Thursday we hit Puerto Vallarta. I booked us on a Pirate Ship Adventure excursion where we get off our ship (which Darcey calls the "airplane" ship from the giant wings sprouting on top of it) and got on a pirate ship where swashbuckling mateys entertained us as we sailed to a private island. They served breakfast and lunch, which was mediocre at best, but the entertainment was a lot of fun. Brad was chosen to be in the "pirate show" and the family won a Zack-sized t-shirt for answering trivia questions. What is it about cruising and trivia? My parents insist that they've never been on a cruise that has this many trivia contests (sometimes 6 in a day) but whatever the case is, I like it. The t-shirt is going into the pile of Trivia Loot that we will be photographing at the end of the cruise.

The private beach was, for me, the best part of the day. The water was calm and clear. The boys got boogie boards and played around in the waves and Brad went snorkeling and maybe kayaking too, I can't remember. Ryan played in the beach volleyball game and Zack went on a hunt for buried treasure. I sat in the sand and watched Darcey and Zack digging holes and building sand castles and read my book. My only complaint was that our time on the beach was too short. I could have stayed there all day.

Naturally, in those two hours or so on the beach, the sun found all of the places that the sunscreen didn't quite make it, so I got burned on my scalp and around the edge of my swimsuit top. I even reapplied sunscreen and I still got burned. I don't think I'll ever understand people who can lay out for an entire vacation and come home brown instead of red. Must be something in the genes.

After we got back, there was just enough time for one trivia game before dinner in the restaurant. The theme was Pop Culture and I finally hit my stride on this one. Here are some of the questions (or what I remember of them):
Who invented the term "security blanket"?
What Revlon spokesmodel claimed she was fired because she was too old?
What activity does "five finger discount" refer to?
How much would you get for coming in second place in a beauty contest in the game Monopoly?
What celebrity got her start as a dancer on In Living Color?
How many people does McDonalds serve in one day - 40 thousand, 400 thousand, or 400 million?
What is the first of the seven dwarves, in alphabetical order?
What talk show host has a Top Ten list?
Who is the father of Britney Spears' children?
What tv show was responsible for Ashton Kutcher's rise to fame?
What tv show was the first to pay its actors $1 million per episode?
Who was the first Nike employee of Thai descent to make more than 40 cents an hour?
What vegetable drink claims it is "99.9% Clam-free"?

There were 20 questions total and I ended up with 14 right. The Royal Flush Casino Lounge was unusually packed for this trivia round, so we ended up at a table at the very far end of the room. I had to crane my head towards the stage and sometimes repeat the questions to the rest of the family so we could all hear. Joe, the cruise-guy-in-charge-of-trivia, said "Who has more than ten right?" and a handful of people had our hands raised, but nobody had more than 15 right. So he asked the people near him how many they had right, and the highest number was 11. Which of course led to me running down the aisle waving my paper over my head and announcing loudly, "I have 14! I have 14!" Joe looked at me like he'd never seen me before (which is nuts, because we were basically stalking him for an entire week) and I pointed that I was sitting waaaaay down there. The two people that tied at 11 were denied their ship-on-a-stick glory and Joe handed me my coveted trophy. I finally won!! I had looked at that trophy as my family members paraded them past me and I thought it'd be pretty cool to have one - once I got it, it was actually even better than I thought. I wanted to get a strap for it and hang it around my neck so everyone could see it, like an even more impressive medallion. Cruise ship bling. I might be the most shallow and pitiful person you've ever met, but winning that trophy really made me happy. I took it with us to dinner and sat it next to my plate and could have stared at it all day.

More stuff probably happened that night, but I don't remember any of it. Can you blame me?

Cruisin' Tuesday

2011-04-14T15:46:00.000-06:00

If today had any theme, it'd be Trivia Day. Brad wanted me to call this post "Dipped in Trivia" and that's pretty accurate. It was a great day, though, and it helped keep the family together a little bit better. Yesterday and Sunday afternoon we let Brad and Noah have free reign of the ship, and it was a little bit too much freedom for my taste. I don't think they need to be under constant surveillance, but they tended to wander aimlessly and have no plans, and as a result, they seemed bored. There's enough options of things to do that you can only be bored on a ship if you try really hard. So today I told the boys that they had to either be in their Camp Carnival group, at a scheduled activity, or with the family. It worked out so much better, and even though both of them were irritated by the strictures at first, I think they enjoyed themselves more being together as a family.

It helped that there were half a dozen trivia games sprinkled throughout the day, so we knew that we could always find family members there. Today was our day for winning ship-shaped plastic - while I didn't get one myself, the family walked away with three trophies, and I ended up with two more medallions, also for a total of three. If I don't end up with a piece of ship-on-a-stick, my medallion collection will comfort me. I missed the Trivia: Fun Challenge this morning at 9:30 but we went to Trivia: Food, which I thought was my best chance for a win. We refined our trivia teamwork today: each person fills out their own answer sheet but we collaborate on the answers. Anything one of us knows for sure, we all write down. Anything that no one knows, we each make our own best guess. (Teamwork is totally fine by the trivia game rules, btw.) Well, by guessing that 3 out of 10 plain m&ms are brown and that a sangria is made from pineapple and lime juice, Brad walked away with the coveted prize that round. He was absolutely thrilled to be the first to strike gold. Next we went to Name That "Toon" where, in a surprise upset, my mom beat out Ryan the animator to win trophy #2. She had an amazing score of 19 out of 20, the only question she got wrong was "How many dalmations were captured in 101 Dalmations?" We all said 99, but they claim the answer was 98. Internet access costs $.75 per minute, so I haven't yet looked it up, but I question the veracity of that answer. Mom did know that Riki-Tiki-Tavi was a mongoose and none of the rest of us knew that one, so she definitely earned it. Super-Duper Trivia at noon was too much for most of us, but my dad ended up with 13 right and won it all. Three trivia games in a row, and three ships on sticks. At 2 we met up again in the Spectacular Theater for a trivia game where they gave prizes out to the first person who answered correctly. My dad won an underwater camera (film camera...it was like winning a corded phone) and a snorkel. I answered two questions right and won two more medallions and two bingo cards (bingo is a really big deal, apparently - the cards were worth $10 each, but I would have traded them for a trophy). My questions were: Who was the first President to dance onstage with Ricky Martin? (George Bush) and What are the final words in the movie "Gone With the Wind"? (After all, tomorrow is another day.)

I feel like I'm hitting my groove, cruise-wise. Yesterday I was feeling a little hectic, like there were always three different places I wanted to be and so I wasn't satisfied with wherever I was. Today I played it cool. I was relaxed and I enjoyed myself. I had an hour to myself on the deck in the sun to read my book - if I could do more of anything, it would be this, but with four kids (and six games of trivia!) it's pretty difficult. The next time I cruise with kids, I will definitely get a balcony room - it'd be worth it for those times when the kids need to chill somewhere and not be so stimulated, and I could be sitting on the balcony instead of in the air conditioning. I might have been doing well, but clearly other people are falling apart. I shared an elevator with a guy who was complaining about the cost of his drinks in the casino after he had spent more than $2,000 gambling. He said, "The next person I talk to about this will be the ship's captain, and if he doesn't fix it then when I get off the ship in Cabo I'm flying home and suing their butts!" Seriously, dude? After dropping (I refrain from saying 'wasting' but that's what I'm thinking) $2k on glorified computer Solitaire, you're complaining about your $7 Red Bull? There's something majorly wrong with that story. I also heard an adult daughter fighting with her mother - when the daughter was younger, she wanted a belly button ring, but her mother convinced her to get a tattoo instead, which the daughter now regrets and blames her mother for. A body piercing could have closed up by now, she said, but she's stuck with the tattoo. I so desperately wanted to know what the tattoo was of, but there was no way really to ask without sharing some of the wrath directed at the mother. It was kind of a hysterical insight into family dynamics right there.

We went to a second night of family friendly comedy, and this guy was funnier. Ed Regine, I think his name was, and yesterday's slightly-less-funny guy was Paul Lyons. I missed half of it when I took Darcey to the bathroom. That's what I get for finally (mostly) potty training her. (On Wednesday she had an accident, but it's the first one all trip so I'm feeling pretty lucky.)

I am loving this trip so much.

Cruisin' Monday

2011-04-12T12:15:00.000-06:00

Morning dawns early on the Carnival Splendor, at least it does when you have a three and six year old in your room. They were awake by 6:30 but I managed to keep them in their beds until about 7. Zack's first words to me were, "Can I put my swim suit on now?" He'd been waiting, with all the patience of hyper kid off his meds, since yesterday afternoon, when it was 60 degrees outside and I was trying to keep my brains from lurching around inside my skull. (From the rolling of the ship. I don't know if that was clear or if it was one of those things that made more sense in my head.) I told him yes, then took the two of them up to the Lido Deck for breakfast. The hot chocolate was wonderful, creamy and just the right temperature for the slightly cool morning. The kids had pancakes and croissants, yummy. My stroke of brilliance came after breakfast when, instead of getting into the glacial pool water at 8 a.m., I went upstairs to Deck 10 and plopped the kids in an empty hot tub. I joined them and relaxed - we were probably in there for an hour or so, and the only people that came in were other kids. It was perfect! They could splash around and not bug adults, and Darcey was tall enough to touch the bottom. This was an enjoyable enough situation to make it okay that I got up at such an unreasonable hour of the morning, and I'm almost okay with doing it every morning.

I eventually got Zack and Darcey checked into the Club Carnival with my mom's help, then Ryan and my parents and I claimed some loungers in the sun to read. It was lovely and relaxing, exactly what I wanted this vacation to be. For about 45 minutes. And then Ryan got too hot and went inside and my parents went to do...something. I can't remember. Then I was alone and that was even better! For about 15 minutes. And then it was time to go pick up Zack and Darcey and begin parenting again. Ugh. Parenting takes the fun out of a vacation and turns it into work. We had promised to take Zack to the real pool but even at 2 p.m. the water wasn't any warmer. It was basically torture. I'm going to fast forward through this part of the afternoon because I don't really want to relive it, and you don't really want to read about it. You're welcome.

My quest for trivia gold continues. Today I did the Triviathon: Fun Challenge with my dad where we improved our score to 13 out of 20. I missed Super-Duper Trivia, but mom and dad went and came in second. Noah, Darcey and I hit the Triviathon: Movies where I scored 12 out of 20 all by myself. I'm smart enough to know not to bother attending Triviathon: Sports today, so that was my last chance until tomorrow. This does nothing but whet my appetite for the authentic 24-karat-plastic symbol of my intelligence.

I was writing this at 5 pm on Monday. There are a million places to sit on this ship, and a million reasons why each one is just this far from being the perfect place to sit. The Lido deck is a constant party. Deck 11 has a cold breeze. The lower decks aren't in the sun. Whichever deck is perfect is also the deck that has no chairs left. It goes without saying that the deck preferential rankings change every time the sun shifts positions, which is to say, constantly. I found a perfect deck this afternoon, when Darcey was truant from the Club Carnival play area she's signed up for, and we sat down right next to Brad, who also deemed it perfect. That is until the drunk twenty-somethings decided to see how long one of the guys in the group could stand there with his swimsuit down. You know, the guys who take up a challenge like that are never the ones with a butt that anyone actually wants to look at, and this guy was no exception, his fat, white, dimply butt and hairy legs and ugh. The only good thing was that his back was to us, otherwise I would have had to burn my eyes out with a hot poker. I asked Brad if he wanted to find a new place to sit, and he was off like a shot. Then a guy in a different group yelled at Butt Man to go take his show somewhere else and a war of f-words ensued. I ended up carrying Darcey out of there while she asked, "What was that man saying?" I'm pretty sure this is one of those moments that my kids are going to tell their therapists about someday, when identifying traumatic events from their childhood.

So to make a long story short (too late) I am still in search of the perfect place to sit. Right now I'm in an empty restaurant with my feet up on the windowsill and the sun on my legs. There are more relaxing lounges, to be sure, but I feel guilty being inside. If I was going to sit indoors, I'd have stayed home. The whole point of this place is sunshine and water. I know it sounds a little dumb, considering I'm 10 floors up inside a giant floating hotel, but there's a calming rhythm to the sea that I want to capture. Listening to the band on Deck 9 singing Guns 'N Roses while judging the Hairy Chest contest is not bringing me that nature communion. But sitting inside at the window in the sun and writing by myself is the closest thing to the perfect place to sit all afternoon. I'm feeling really happy right now.

I need to buy a little notebook. I keep having tiny little semi-brilliant insights and then by the time I get back to my laptop the brilliance has faded and I'm left with half a metaphor and some useless dross. I had a unique thought but lost the insight and ended up with: Drunk people sure are obnoxious. True, but lacking a certain finesse. I'm going to have to work on it.

Tonight was Elegant Night at the restaurant, which was too big an effort for any of us to bother with. Walking through the halls were women in prom dresses, evening gowns, and cocktail dresses. The men wore suits or just slacks and dress shirts with ties. I saw no tuxes. The kids wore basically church clothes. Maybe it's an excuse for people to dress to the hilt, but especially with kids, I don't see an attraction to it myself. Most people did, though, because the Lido deck was deserted during dinner...except for the random dressed up couple that we saw eating on the Lido deck - kind of the worst of both worlds.

The family all gathered at 8:30 (after Darcey's late late afternoon nap - poor kids are absolutely wiped out but are refusing to sleep in) in the El Morocco Lounge for the family-friendly comedy show. I wonder how much effort it took to keep it clean, or if the effort comes from making it adult for the 10:30 show. The one thing that I am experiencing but didn't anticipate was the amount of worldliness that my kids are being exposed to. Not that we're on the S.S. Gomorrah or anything, but I'm realizing that my kids are pretty sheltered. In a good way, though - I think I'm trying to protect them from the more negative things. Now I'm aware of all the drunk people, the bad language, the 3/4 naked people everywhere, and I'm wondering what my teen and tween boys are thinking about all of it. It's starting a discussion, and that's a great thing, but the conservative/lazier parent in me would rather avoid the issue altogether. Still, we're having a great time and with the exception of Butt Man, I don't think I'd change much.

Cruisin' Sunday

2011-04-12T12:14:00.000-06:00

I said we were aiming to leave by nine this morning - well, given the fact that we were all awake between 4:30 and 5:30, it was a pretty easy goal to achieve. We didn't want to get to the ship too early, since they didn't start boarding until 12:30, but as it turns out, the earlier the better. We checked in our bags and got in the first line at noon but didn't get on board the ship until 1:30. We stood in a line to get our id card, another line for security, then for our souvenir photos, then our id card photos. At each checkpoint we had to show a random and unpredictable combination of passports and id cards - whichever one I just put away was inevitably the one that was needed next.

When we finally made it on board we checked out the Lido deck cafeteria-style restaurant for lunch, then went down to our rooms. Our room has a window and it's actually reasonably big, or at least, bigger than I expected. Then it was off to the Casino Bar for the Welcome Aboard Trivia Game, where the team with the most correct answers wins a "ship on a stick," a little plastic Carnival ship-shaped trophy. I took one look at that thing and I knew I had to have it. I will not be satisfied in life until I win a ship on a stick.

Alas, it was not to be won on this game. My team - me, my mom, my dad, and for one question, my dad's ipod touch - got a measly 6 questions right out of 15. Brad, who benefited from some of our knowledge but went his own way on other questions, shocked us all with 10 out of 15. (Seriously, who knows what color laser they use to remove a red tattoo??) The team next to us, though, had 11 right and they took home my coveted trophy. No matter. This is just the warm-up round. I've got a whole week to win my ship on a stick. And next time, Brad's going to be on my team.

We had dinner in the Golden Pearl Restaurant. I had the pork spareribs and with it came an insight that has been true through when I am writing this on Monday night: the food's goal is to be non-offensive. The food is decent, but not fantastic. The barbeque sauce was bland. Tuesday's pesto sauce had no garlic. What makes food great (to me, anyhow, I know not everyone agrees) is impressive flavors - bold, spicy, complex, whatever. What I've eaten so far is fine but safe. None of this food would win anything on Top Chef. (That's not going to stop me from eating, and prolifically. And I'm not complaining, just pontificating.)

We put the littles to bed and my dad, Noah, and I headed to the Spectacular lounge for Gameshow Mania. They had three podiums set up with flashing lights and scores and Joe, the entertainment guy, asked for volunteers to be on the game show. I asked Noah if he thought I should do it. Frankly, as much as I enjoy trivia, I know that I'm only average at actually answering the questions. But you don't win a ship on a stick by sitting in the audience, and I'm not going to be seeing any of these people again if I make an idiot of myself, right? What I didn't count on was that my dad would run down to the room and grab his video camera. I can't upload the video right now, but suffice it to say that a) I didn't win, but I came in a respectable second and b) I probably should have expected that the person who answered "Shake Your Bon-Bon" would have to do just that. For my embarrassment and for participating I got a medal with a cruise ship on it. Oh, that wily ship on a stick, staying just out of my reach! I will have you, and I have a whole week to get you.

Pre-Cruise Check In

2011-04-09T16:26:00.000-06:00

We woke up this morning, the first day of spring break, to see the ground covered with snow. Utah weather is a fickle beast and April showers usually are of the white and flaky variety. But for once I'm not joining in the mournful whining - I'm actually laughing. In 36 short hours we are going to be setting sail from Long Beach, California and heading out into the open waters. It's supposed to be in the 90's in Cabo next week. I couldn't be happier.

I told my mom that we were aiming to leave by 9 this morning, and by "aiming" I meant it the way a four year old boy "aims" when he goes to the bathroom, which is to say, not very accurately. We eventually shoved off by 10, and that's about as good as I expected.

We took two cars which made for a fairly quiet, uneventful drive. My parents took Brad and Noah, who they said were "invisible" and Ryan and I had Zack and Darcey, who were also well-behaved. Somehow, though, had all of these well-behaved kids been in one car, they would have riled each other up until we were ready to ditch them in Beaver.

The four "invisible" kids reappeared when we got to the hotel room and discovered that the tv didn't have Nickelodeon or Disney Channel. Zack and Darcey bounced around the room like it was padded (and I was ready for a padded room after just a few minutes). This is the part of a vacation that I always forget about when I'm in the wishful-dreaming-about-vacationing stage: being stuck in a cramped room with kids who were just freed from an even more cramped car while they bang around like balls in a lotto drawing. (There are lots of other things I forget when I'm fantasizing, and they all come rushing back once I'm too far from home to pull the plug on the trip. I really ought to re-read my past travel blogs - it's all in there. Memory is the best reviser of history.)

So tomorrow we'll "aim" to leave by nine, most likely leaving by ten for reals, and drive to Long Beach. We can board the ship, the Carnival Splendor, at noon(ish) and then the ship sets sail at 4:30. Can you say "sets sail" if said ship is completely lacking in sails? With all the engines on board, maybe "drives away" is more accurate. Oh, speaking of engines, this is the same ship that had the engine fire last November and had to be towed back to California. Brad is hoping for a similar catastrophe on our trip - not only would we get an adventure, but we'd get another cruise out of it, for free! I love optimism as much as the next guy, but that's pushing it. Although, it'd sure liven up the blog...

Who Do You Think You Are?

2011-04-06T08:39:00.000-06:00

A couple of months ago Ryan and I were invited to attend a Family History Sunday School class. I don't think that I'm alone when I say that, growing up in the LDS Church, it was easy for me to say "genealogy is something I'll do when I'm older." It was an old-people's hobby, not something young, hip people did. Well, apparently 34 is old, because genealogy is about the coolest thing ever in my mind. And if you are still in the save-it-for-the-nursing-home mindset, here's a story that might change your mind.

I have been working on Ryan's family tree, which has been pretty frustrating. I can get a couple of generations back, but most of the family seems to be Jews that came from Russia. I can find them in America, but they may as well have come from another planet for all the luck I've had in finding people. So Ryan's family tree has borne precious little fruit.

But if I couldn't get quantity, I'd at least get some quality, right? There's a family mystery that seems lifted straight from an episode of "Who Do You Think You Are?" Ryan's grandpa, Bernard Axelrod, was raised by a single mother. Dora Berg was apparently divorced from Burnie's father when he was a kid, and the dad was out of Burnie's life after that. Burnie was so angry at his father that he legally changed his name to Burnie Allen in the 1960's. Jill, Burnie's daughter and my mother-in-law, didn't even know Burnie's dad's name - she only knew that his last name was Axelrod.

So that was my mystery - could I find Burnie's dad? It didn't seem too pressing - the dad had been out of the picture for sixty or seventy years, Burnie's dead, so it was more out of curiosity and the OCD need to fill in all the blank spots on the family tree that drove me to searching. On Monday, I found the 1930 census that listed Dora and Bernard as living with Benjamin Axelrad. Cool! His name's Benjamin! And there must have been a transcription error, Axelrad instead of Axelrod, but whatever - mission accomplished!

If that was the whole story, even I would admit that it was pretty boring. But here's where it gets good. On Tuesday, I was poking around Ancestry.com, trying to figure out who Benjamin's parents were, or the ship he came on, or really anything else about Benjamin. I ended up at the message boards where in 2001 a woman named Beth had asked if anyone knew anything about a Benjamin Axelrad.

Beth's grandmother was Frances Axelrad who had been married to a Benjamin Axelrad. At a family party in 1986, just a few years before her death, Frances was lamenting to Beth that she didn't want people to forget her when she was gone. Beth promised that she wouldn't let that happen. Frances asked how she planned to make sure and Beth replied that she would put together Frances' family tree. At this, Benjamin's sister (who apparently Frances didn't get along with all too well) piped up and said, "If you're going to do a family tree, then make sure you include Benjamin's first wife and son, because that boy deserves to be on this family tree." This was the first time Frances had heard that her husband had been married before, let alone that he had had a son.

Side note: I really wish I had been at that party. The drama! The emotion! It's like watching a soap opera, except it's real people - I love it!

Anyhow, back to the story. Beth searched wherever she could to try to find her new uncle. Her only clues were that his name was Bernard Axelrad and that he moved to California. She didn't know that he had changed his name. So in 2001, she posted several messages on the message boards, looking for any information at all about Benjamin's first wife.

I sent Beth a private message on Tuesday, saying that I knew Bernard and his mother, but I was looking for her husband Benjamin. At first, she thought it must be a joke - but there were too many accurate details for it to be fake. She sent me back a message not ten minutes later, full of excitement and exclamation points. After searching for 20 years, she had finally found her missing uncle! Last night I talked to Beth on the phone, along with her mother Rose, who is Burnie's half-sister. They were so overjoyed to talk to me and to discover this half of the family that they knew nothing about. I called Jill and told her that I had just gotten off the phone with her aunt, and she was shocked to even find out that she had an aunt. The last time I had talked to her, we didn't even know her grandfather's name.

If this were a reality show, we'd be flying to the Bronx to meet our new family, but unless Ancestry.com wants to pay for it (hint, hint), well, this family reunion will have to be brought to us by Facebook instead. Isn't that cool, though? Family history doesn't just involve the long-dead, it's also very current and can impact a person's day-to-day life. Good thing I didn't put this off until I was "old enough."

Food Commie

2011-03-30T17:37:00.000-06:00

In my history classes this week, we've been talking about the 1940's-60's in world politics - it seemed like in that time, you were either a Communist or convinced that everyone else was. Communism was a society where the government decided what was right and wrong for you. In capitalism, every right and wrong thing is presented to you, and it's up to you to have the willpower to ignore the wrong thing and choose the right one. When there are incentives to choosing the right thing, it's an easy choice - Ryan chooses to work so that he can afford to eat and live in an air conditioned house and dress up like a stormtrooper. But when there are incentives for choosing the wrong thing, or the wrong thing's incentives are more immediate, well, it takes someone of great integrity to do the right thing.

Of course, I don't care so much about politics, but about the politics of food. Zack, bless his heart, left the scale in the middle of the bathroom floor and instead of nudging it back under the pile of toilet paper where it belongs, I stepped onto it. Huge mistake. Big, fat, enormous mistake. I would tell you how many pounds worth of a mistake, but it's just not going to happen. Let's just say, in years past this number would mean I was practicing my Lamaze and packing a bag for the hospital. To make matters worse, the fat is showing up in places it never has been before. Darcey spent one Sacrament Meeting waggling my arm flab and giggling, until I made her go sit with Ryan and I put my coat on. No matter how much I weighed when I was pregnant, my arms never waggled like this. Plus, the other night I looked in the mirror and I swear I saw the beginnings of a jowl. You know the kind, where the skin hangs down and you look like one of those dogs with the floppy skin. (Ryan says it was a trick of the lighting but whatever. I know what I saw.)

What I'm getting at here is that things are getting desperate. I know I've said that before, but that was ten or fifteen pounds ago, and I didn't know what I was talking about. Something's gotta change. But I just can't do it. I can't pull the trigger and really commit to dieting. And you know who I blame? Capitalist pigs.

It's all those choices I have that are killing my weight loss dreams before they even materialize. It's knowing that I'm going to drive by the taco place that has the delicious nachos every time I pick Darcey up from dance class. Or the bakery down the street that just started selling cupcakes whose bottoms are dipped in chocolate. (It's like frosting for the bottom of the cupcake! Pure genius!) Or the countless vending machines, fast food restaurants, slow food restaurants, church functions, grocery stores, and gas station quikie marts that line my entire existence, offering me something cheap and tasty RIGHT NOW!

What I want is a food dictator to rule over my life and tell me what to eat and when. I want someone else to have full responsibility for my choices. I want to have four things to choose from, all good, and then I won't have to think of food anymore.

All kidding aside, it was kind of scary to realize that a lot of my resistance to dieting is because I am afraid that I can't say no. I'm afraid of how it will feel to not eat something I want to eat. I'm afraid of deprivation. I'm clinging to food as a way to say, in this one area of life, I have control over how I feel. I can have what I want - that must make me happy! Right? Right?

Weight loss before was always about losing baby weight. Yes, I had to diet, and yes, I did it successfully a few times. This time is different, though - this fat is all mine. The psychological component is making my head spin and I'm not sure what to do with it all. So that's why I'm looking for a commie. I want someone with an ideology to indoctrinate me to the point where I can obey blindly and not question. Free will? Who needs it! It's free will that got me into this mess, free will and a side of nachos. Someone else can take charge of my diet. Someone else can hand me a bowl of cottage cheese, and I'll eat it because they told me to. Someone else can feed my kids, plan the meals and stock the pantry.

Any volunteers, comrades?

The Lure of 100%

2011-03-23T12:36:00.000-06:00

You'll be happy to know that even though I've had a long six month break from blogging, I'm returning just as neurotic as ever. And to prove it, I'm going to show you just how nuts I can get about perfectionism.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that perfection is a dangerous plaything. It's a shiny bauble that the three-year-old in me is always reaching for, tempting me with its beauty and elusiveness, convincing me that once I have it in my greedy hands I'll be well and truly happy. Being aware of the truth of perfection is possibly the only thing that keeps me from diving headlong into the pursuit of perfection with abandon. Reality keeps me grounded, at least to a certain extent.

The problem is those rare occasions when something presents itself in which perfection is attainable. I know I'll never be the perfect mother, the perfect wife, the perfect Mormon or Republican or Whack-a-mole player. All of those things are subjective, and perfection isn't possible. But if achievements can be quantified or measured against an absolute, then maybe a person can be perfect. You know where I see this in my life? School.

School, with its multiple choices, true/false tests, grade point averages and SAT scores, is my perfectionist's nirvana. Every day I have the chance to turn in a piece of homework or take a quiz and get in return a piece of validation. There is nothing that thrills me more than seeing a paper declaring "100%" or, less clinically, "A+." You may as well slap a gold star on my forehead, it makes me that happy.

My adolescent lit professor made the mistake of indulging in my fantasy of getting a 100% not just on one test, but in an entire class. She was an extremely liberal grader - every paper or project we turned in would get 100% if the requirements were met, but any bit of creativity that was above and beyond the requirements would earn extra credit. I figured that a little bit of extra effort would put me on easy street for the class, and it did. By the end, my grade was over 100%. It's no wonder that this was one of my favorite classes ever. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to replicate my feat in any other class, and even though I know I am being completely unreasonable, I still go into every new semester thinking that this class I'll ace.

Yeah, I know, I'm messed up.

I learned that lesson in school, too. My American Lit class was discussing something off-topic, I don't remember what, but I mentioned that I put my A papers on my refrigerator, just like my kids' good grades. The teacher stared at me and said, "You don't really do that, do you?" Well, if backwards bicycling was an Olympic sport, I would have qualified right then for how fast I backpedaled. "Oh, no, I was just joking," I assured her, realizing for the first time that not everybody takes their grades as a measure of self-worth.

Today I'm shaking off the lure of 100%. I'm working on a group project with two other classmates (aside- I am convinced that people in Hell always have to work in groups. Or on committees.) I'm already feeling antsy about the outcome of the project, since I'm not convinced that everyone is on the same page as to what the teacher is asking of us. Then yesterday, I forfeited my assignment, putting together a slideshow of Vietnam War photos (which would take maybe an hour to do, tops), and instead took on the writing assignment, which is definitely the harder part. Why? Because I got a 95 on the midterm paper, and the girl who was originally going to write only got a 91. Now I'm seeing the emailed slideshow that this girl is putting together and I'm tempted to polish it up a little, you know, tweak it here and there to improve it. Why? BECAUSE I AM A CRAZY PERSON. And a control freak. And completely unable to even fathom the idea of getting anything less than an A on a project with my name on it.

Someone needs to help me. Seriously. Maybe I need to take a super hard class and fail utterly so that I learn that failure is not so bad. Maybe I need to quit school and move to a Zen monastery where I can learn how to live in the moment and embrace pain and what not. Although, knowing me, I'd be waiting for the monk in charge to give me a silent nod of approval at my excellent lotus position, which is at least 4% better than my Zen-mate's.

I definitely have a problem.

The Perfect Dress

2011-02-06T13:47:00.000-07:00

I watched eight episodes of "Say Yes To The Dress" recently, a TLC show about women coming into an upscale bridal boutique, shopping for a wedding gown. (I know eight episodes in one sitting is a little extreme. Let's not call it "wasting the entire day watching tv." Instead, let's call it "research for a writing project.")

The show is only average - the "problem" customers are, at the worst, annoyingly picky, and the salespeople helping the women are always polite, even when the brides ought to be kicked in the pants. The store featured on the show is all about the sales, and not about creating compelling reality tv. Who knew actual reality would be so uninteresting? Give me fake reality any day.

Of course, the lack of bridezillas knocking over racks of wedding dresses in a heated, bridal-induced rage didn't stop me from spending many hours watching the show. The one thing I walked away with was the concept of "The Perfect Dress." The Perfect Dress is that elusive object that will transform your average thirty-something woman into The Perfect Bride. Sure, you can get married in any ratty dress you find on the clearance rack at TJ Maxx, but that'll never make you The Perfect Bride. All that will do is make you married, and being married is so rarely the goal of The Perfect Wedding experience.

The way these brides agonize over the selection of their wedding dress, you'd think they were picking the dress they had to wear every single day for the rest of their lives, not a dress they wear once and then stuff into a box, never to be looked at again. All of these women spend thousands of dollars on their dress - one woman paid $10,000 because it was The Perfect Dress. I don't know if it's the old, jaded wife in me writing this, but I wanted to shake some of these women, the ones who have spent months trying on a hundred different dresses and still can't find The Perfect Dress. I want to tell them, Stop looking! If you need this kind of flawless perfection in an item of clothing, then how are you ever going to live with another human for the rest of your life?

There is no such thing as a Perfect Marriage. Even if you have the Perfect Dress, Perfect Cake, Perfect Flowers, Perfect Ratio of Bridesmaids to Groomsmen, there is no guarantee that the resulting marriage will be similarly Perfect. The problem comes with expectations of marital perfection. Even two Perfectly Compatible people will find, somewhere around Year Two (if they're lucky), that their Perfect Spouse is, in fact, imPerfect. No wonder divorce rates are so high - if you've shelled out $50,000 for a Perfect Wedding only to find out that the Perfect Groom is a lemon, well, the right answer is to trade him for a new model, right? And this time, better put in a little more effort on the Perfect Party Favors.

Fortunately for all of us imPerfect people, you don't have to have a Perfect Marriage. You can have a Fabulous, Great, Good, Average, Mediocre, So-So, or even an Iffy Marriage and still make it work. Most likely, a successful marriage is all of those things just on different days. The important thing is to have as a spouse someone who can be Great while you're being So-So, with the understanding that you'll return the favor, and hopefully you can meet up at Good every so often. The best spouse thinks you're Perfect no matter what dress you wear.

Disneyland-Day Two

2010-10-13T16:59:00.000-06:00

Oh. My. Gosh. My feet hurt. My feet hurt so much I can't even come up with an outlandish analogy to make you feel, on a visceral level, just how badly my feet hurt. You would think that a theme park that revolves around having a "magical" experience could come up with a way to make the pavement a little gentler on the joints. Maybe Google's next project can be Google Feet - feet that walk themselves while the rest of the body just hangs out and relaxes. Honestly, do I have to come up with all the good ideas??

I'm too tired to write anything, so I'm just going to caption some of the best photos of the day.

[gallery link="file" columns="2"]

We did a lot more than this, obviously. I think we've pretty much done all the rides now at least once (or four times, if it's the carousel.) I need to hit the hay if I'm going to have any energy at all to do one more day of this. I know I don't sound too positive right now, but I promise we all had a ton of fun today. Fun takes a lot out of a person, right?

Disneyland-Day One

2010-10-12T16:54:00.000-06:00

So once again we find ourselves vacationing at the Happiest Place On Earth. It feels like a cop-out vacation idea; the place my family goes when we can't be bothered to come up with an original vacation plan. "I know - let's go to Uganda and dig wells for impoverished Africans!" "Nah, that's too much work; let's go to Disneyland." But as it happens, we truly love the Disney family of theme parks.

The last time we were at Disneyland was in October of 2006. Zack was two and had to be leashed pretty much the entire time. (It was for his own good, trust me.) I had just found out that I was pregnant with Darcey, and it was on the flight home that I started feeling the morning sickness that pretty much did me in for the next eight weeks. So Disneyland turned out to be the last fun thing I did for a good long time.

In June of 2008 we went to Disneyland Paris. It was one of the highlights of our trip to Europe. Then last year, June of 2009, we did Walt Disney World in Florida. It was hot, and that's all I'm going to say on the subject. And now 2010, back to good old Disneyland in Anaheim. This is starting to be a fun tradition. I'm already trying to figure out how to get our family to Hong Kong or Tokyo to try out those parks.

This trip is turning out to be something different, and that is mostly due to Darcey. The two times she's gone to Disney parks in her life, she was too young to really understand what was going on. Last year our trip was about three months before she truly discovered Disney Princesses. This time she is all about the pink. She's got her Sleeping Beauty costume in her suitcase, a Tinkerbell backpack, a Minnie Mouse doll, a Snow White autograph book...the list goes on and on. While the boys are all about the thrills that Disneyland offers, Darcey is the first of my children to be completely sucked in by the magic.

We drove ten hours straight from Orem to Anaheim on Monday afternoon. The kids were perfect the entire time. No, honestly - perfect. I know, I couldn't believe it either. Darcey whined once or twice and Noah got a little testy on occasion, but it was actually less whining and testiness than if we were at home. Granted, at home I don't let them watch tv for seven solid hours, breaking it up with ice cream breaks and fast food dinners. How did we survive all those childhood road trips with our siblings in the back of the station wagon, with nothing more than the radio to keep us entertained? How did we not kill each other with all that family togetherness and nary a DVD in sight? I'm putting my parents up there with the pioneers, with what they had to endure.

I'm sure the pressing question on your mind is, "Did you decide to bring the laptop or your new iPad?" When I got the iPad, I thought, surely it would be most convenient to use when traveling, so I didn't have to lug around the big ol' laptop. But then I realized, there's no way to use my iPad to take photos from my camera and upload them to the internet. So I decided it will be up to some other philosopher to answer the age old riddle, "If you own a gadget and don't take it on vacation, does the gadget still exist?" I brought both.

This morning we got to the park around 9:20. Ryan took the boys to hit all the big roller coasters. Darcey and I did a couple of turns around the carousel, joined Pinocchio on his Daring Adventure (Darcey's verdict: scary. She wants to do it again tomorrow.) then went over to California Adventure to get our Fastpasses for World of Color and do the Bug's Life kiddie rides. My cousin Jenny met us then for a few hours, where we watched our kids play while we commiserated about how old we are getting.

After lunch, we joined Ryan and the boys for the rest of the day. We did Buzz Lightyear's Astro Blasters and Finding Nemo Submarine then crossed back to CA Adventure for Soarin Over California. I was worried about Darcey on Soarin' - she hadn't done anything really adventurous yet (Pinocchio notwithstanding) and I didn't want her freaking out when we lifted off the ground and our legs dangled in the air. I shouldn't have worried, though. We lifted off and she said, "We're flying!" She loved it. Plus I forgot that she's so short, her feet barely make it off the edge of the seat - there's no dangle action there. Soarin is on my list of rides to do again before we leave.

Later we watched Aladdin: The Musical, which was not only entertaining, it was also a good 45 minutes of sitting down. Frankly, I would have endured 45 minutes of Congress: The Musical if it meant sitting down the whole time. Dinner was next, and while we were eating I realized that even though it was only 6:30 and we had tickets to the 8:00 World of Color show, I was done and so were Zack and Darcey. This was the triumphant moment of the day - there was still great stuff to be done, but I restrained myself and took the kids home instead. No Vacation Nazi for me, no sir. This is about as low-key as I get on vacation, and boy am I proud of myself. (Tomorrow we'll watch World of Color if I have to strap my kids to the pavement and duct tape their eyes open. I can only let laid-back go so far.)

Tomorrow's plan: Darcey is dressing up as Sleeping Beauty and we are going to hit Fantasyland so hard, there's gonna be princesses crying. Yeah, I'm excited.

[caption id="attachment_1419" align="aligncenter" width="200" caption="In front of Sleeping Beauty's Castle."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1420" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="She thought these were the same horses as in Mary Poppins. Fortunately they stayed in place."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1421" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="On the carousel. "][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1422" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="This was on Flik's Flyers, a ride in Bug's Land. Darcey thought it was great. I should have bought a wide-angle lens before we left so we could have some background in these pictures."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1423" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="At the Disney Playhouse live show, the girls chased bubbles."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1424" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Darcey and her cousin Anna. Or first cousin, or something like that. Anyhow, Darcey and Anna."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1425" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="The boys, climbing on something that they shouldn't have been. "][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1426" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="We took the double-decker bus from the castle to the park entrance, just to save our aching feet."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1427" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="3:00 Ice Cream, my family's new favorite vacation tradition (thanks, Dad!)"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1428" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Darcey and Zack, "posing" long after they have gotten tired of getting their picture taken."][/caption]

Moments

2010-10-06T15:02:00.000-06:00

When I was a kid, I didn't spend a lot of time daydreaming about being a mother. In fact, even when I was a teenager and later when I was married I didn't have a picture in my mind of what motherhood would be like. To say that my day-to-day life as a mother was surprising is an understatement. "Surprising" is for when Debbie Fisher pops out of a gigantic cake - my introduction to motherhood's foibles was more along the lines of "rude awakening with a side order of shock and awe." Or something like that.

Nevertheless, I have discovered that even though I had no preconceived notions about raising children, there is something tucked way back in my brain, in the instinct region, that lights up with recognition. My kids will do something and my primordial brain goes, "Aha! This is what parenting is all about!" It doesn't happen often, so when it does, I try to take notice.

Today Brad came upstairs and asked, "Mom, do you have any good books?" This, this is the moment that crystallizes what I love about being a mother. It's more than him asking my advice; it's more than us sharing a bond over my favorite hobby. It's the summation of all the years he and I have spent together up to this point. It's him asking me a question as a peer and not as a parent. I don't know if I'm even making sense anymore - maybe this is an indescribable feeling. It wasn't momentous, per se - it was just a quick question, I handed him a book, and he was on his way. But it was a moment, and one that feels deeper than it seems.

(I am choosing to end this post on a positive note, instead of allowing myself to ruin the "moment" with a contrasting view of my moments with Darcey lately, which quite frequently involve poop that is neither in a diaper nor in the potty. In fact, that's part of the reason I haven't blogged much lately - if I don't have something nice to say, I don't say anything at all. One day we'll look back at the months of potty training and laugh...but not yet. And probably not for a good long time.)

A Success Story

2010-08-23T08:18:00.000-06:00

In 41-and-a-half hours, I will have three kids in school for seven hours a day. They'll all shuffle out the door at (roughly) 7:30 and come home at (roughly) 2:30. While they are gone, I'll have one fairly docile child at home, at least until she starts preschool in September.

Can you smell that? It's the sweet scent of freedom. It smells like oranges and happiness.

Now, I don't normally spout long, self-congratulatory harangues on this blog (at least, I don't think I do - but it's been a long time since I posted and I might have forgotten my self-congratulatory tendencies, in which case I apologize.) I am proud of myself for my behavior this summer. Until today, I never once mentally calculated the days remaining until school started. I tried very hard not to complain about the heat. I stayed busy, mostly by attaching myself to my friend Luisa's schedule and doing all the fun things she did. I tried to enjoy the summer.

That's not to say I was the perfect summer-loving mom. I didn't complain about the heat because I stayed in my air conditioned house a lot. I didn't calculate the days remaining because I knew it would depress me. I stayed busy because every time Luisa called to invite me somewhere, I heaved a big sigh and said, "I don't want to, but I ought to." So basically, I can attribute my good summer to Luisa and air conditioning.

Whatever. In the end, though, I did have a good summer, and that's all that matters. It feels like a successful summer. I'm happy about the way summer went, a stark contrast to last summer's three-month-long torture session. I love it. I'm happy.

That being said, summer's almost finished and I can start fantasizing about the beautiful, glorious school year that lies ahead. Everything I'm looking forward to falls into two categories:

- Peace. I think the kids want to go back to school as much as we want them to, if only to escape the constant companionship of their siblings. We all need some absence to make the heart grow fonder. And absence doesn't bruise the way a brother's "accidental" full-body slam does.

- Quiet. The noise level in this house approaches that of a turbine engine. Ryan wishes the "hard of hearing" years happened in your thirties and forties, when a person desperately wants to be able to just turn off the hearing aid for a while. And then your hearing magically comes back when the kids are teenagers, so you can hear them sneaking in the house past curfew.

That's it. That's all I want out of the next nine months, peace and quiet. Cliched, I know, but still true. I want to appreciate the peace and quiet of having only one (relatively benign) child at home. I vow to enjoy the weather in the fall, the crystalline snow in the winter, and not to whine too much about the horrid, miserable, wet and cold and entirely-too-long spring. I will attempt to get Zack to turn in his homework at least 80% of the time. I may, at some point, most likely, be at least semi-successful at potty-training Darcey, although I'm not getting my hopes up.

I'm afraid to say this too loud, for fear that I'll jinx myself, so I'll whisper:

I think I'm going to have a very good year.

Education Week: Friday

2010-08-23T08:03:00.000-06:00

I took a day off to fulfill various obligations and to prove, by my behavior, that I still need more Ed Week before I become a perfect parent. That could be the most disappointing part of the whole week - my spiritual well is overflowing, and yet I still find myself getting short-tempered with my kids and irritated when things don't go the way I want. I feel like I shouldn't be bothered when Darcey smears a brand-new chapstick all over her face, or when the boys spend their free time sniping at each other. I've spent a week learning about how wonderful and important families are, but you'd never be able to tell. Hmph.

Here's my list of the day's classes:

Increasing Personal Effectiveness: Living a Balanced Life - My favorite of the day

The Art of Communication: Resolving Conflict - Also excellent. I'll take any class by this teacher.

Making Marriages Better the Lord's Way - What do happily married people actually do? - Not bad at all, and less list-y than I thought.

How to Be A Better Wife: Be a Fun Living Wife - It was okay.

Isaiah: Prophet, Seer, and Poet - Snoozefest. Could have been due to my headache, but this is the one I'd skip if I went back.

The Anatomy of High-Trust Relationships: Listening With Love - Still very good.

Here goes, my third and last day of Ed Week.

Increasing Personal Effectiveness: Living a Balanced Life - Kevin Miller

The future does not belong to the learned and the wise - it belongs to those who can learn, unlearn, and relearn.
Learning keeps you young.
Bumper sticker: "life is hard. it's harder when you're stupid."

The Whole Soul/Person
Everyone is physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual beings.
The body needs to live. We need to have food, money, safety.
The mind needs to learn.
The heart needs to love.
The spirit needs to leave a legacy. My life is doing something meaningful. (The 8th Habit - Steven Covey)
When you do those things in balance, we're happy. Stress, sin, and contention disintegrates us - splits up the four things.
D&C 38:27 - I say unto you, be one; and if ye are not one ye are not mine. - Be one in your self.

If you spend hours a day exercising, or if you are all about family history, you are one note, not a chord. The spirit can tell you what your chord is supposed to sound like. We are not all the same. Members should not judge each other based on behavior. "Why judge me when I've chosen a different type of sin than you've chosen."

The lord called his people zion, because they are of one heart and one mind. "Create Zion" as a family mission statement.

Mark 12:30-31Christ talks about the importance of balance.

When we are physically ill, our spirits hurt. When we are suffering mentally, it effects the rest of us. When one part of us is stuck, the rest of us is stuck too. It's all connected.

The Lord's promise is peace, not stress, pain, misery. Why do we have long-faced saints, when we have the joy of the gospel? - Maxwell. John 14:27 - Peace I leave with you...

"Urgent to Marilyn" - by Carol Lynn Pearson (Poem about running faster than we have strength.)

If the Lord were here at Ed Week, he'd tell us Peace, be still. Don't try to do it all, everything we've learned. Pick one or two things, and change them.

If we start with Christ as our foundation, he promises us abundance
John 10:10
2 N 9:51 - let your soul delight in fatness
Helaman 5:12

The eagle that chases two rabbits catches neither - Arab proverb. What rabbit should you be working on right now?

Jesus The Perfect Leader - talk by Pres. Kimball
"Jesus saw sin as wrong but also was able to see all sin as springing from deep and unmet needs on the part of the sinner...We need to be able to look deeply enough into the lives of others to see the basic reasons for their failures and shortcomings."

A Victory Plan: Filling my unmet needs
Physical - my body needs
-sleep
-good nutrition
-water 8cups/day
- stress management
-exercise - 30 min3x
-Arise well on time

Mental
- Uplifting reading
-stimulating learning
-ondering time daily
-manage plan time and organize my day

Emotional
-Friendship and belongs
-someone to listen to me

(this was a handout he showed but I didn't have time to write it all down. I emailed him to get a copy, so hopefully I can get that if anyone else wants it.)

Many times we give the wrong counsel because we assume all the problems are spiritual. We can't solve our problems with more service if our body is ravaged.

SMART goals;
Specific
Measurable
Ambitious
Realistic
Time-bound

Think of the three biggest obstacles you face in achieving a peaceful, balanced life.
Almost always start with physical - our body is the bag that holds our emotions, spirit, and mentality. The church tends to start with spiritual answers, which is nice, but it could just make your life more out of balanced, more stressful and make us more guilt-ridden. Start with physical, then move to spiritual answers. From there, emotional stuff might take care of itself.

Three pronged attack:
Reality check our expectations
Obtain more energy
Transfer energy within us. Sometimes we can have more mental energy and we can distribute it to our physical

Reality check: most putts don't drop. LIfe is like an old time rail journey..
There must needs be opposition in all things. ALL things - even in sunday school. that is what life is, and if we expect that it's not, that leads to unhappiness. A conflict in our marriage doesn't mean we have a marriage problem...it just means we have opposition in all things.
Life is not a straight line, we set ourselves wrong if we say "if you join the church, or get married in the temple, or keep the commandments, life will be wonderful."
At best, life is ups and downs. It's okay to have a bad hair day, just try not to have a bad hair life.

Try not to make major decisions and commitments at the high or low points. Keep a long view at your overall goals.

We have self-inflicted wounds. In the church we have culturally-inflicted wounds. Are you comparing yourself to a composite person that doesn't even exist? (Picture of a cow jumping through the ocean - "I know I'm not a very good swimmer, but maybe if I just keep trying...")
Don't make yourself feel bad if you're not Julia Child.

Justification and Sanctification - Our long term goal is to become sanctified, but our for right now all we can hope for is to be justified. In your life right now, you are okay and the Lord is happy with you. He is happier wih you than you are with yourself. HE knows what you're dealing with, what struggles you have, the way you were raised. You don't have to be perfect, you just have to be justified.

If we are trying, if we can ask for his help, then we are on the straight and narrow path.
Grant - gospel standards 184-185
Mosiah 4:27 - be diligent but do not run faster than you have strength

Ed Week can be a whole boatload of guilt on you. Stay peaceful.

Second prong: Increase our energy any way we can

Exercise gives you more energy than it requires, unless you go overboard.
Diet and Water - Book - "your body's many cries for water" Eat well, drink water, exercise
Emotional - Associate with uplifting people and not depressing people. Don't spend your time with eeyores, and don't be an eyesore - be a tigger. Humor helps emotional energy.
Mental - ed week
Spiritual: go out in nature, read the scriptures etc

Acitivity in the gospel - it's possible to be active in the church without being active in the gospel - the gospel is a relationship with the savior, a deep love and peace.
When we are drained its because we are too busy with our church activity and not our gospel activity.

Thes. 4:1

The church is supposed to bring people to Christ - not everything in the church is of equal value. Much of what we do is fluff. Simplify it, and your'll feel the spirit more. The temple is not fluff. Scouting is fluff.

Plug the holes that are draining our energy
Book - Clutter's Last STand - Don Aslett
The more junk you have, the less energy you have for relationships, the less energy we have for the meaningful things.

You are not required to abuse yourself with things that drain you, even in the name of service.

Third Prong
We are a house with four rooms: physical, mental, emotional, spiritual - spend time in each room every day. Men especially are emotionally constipated - they need to learn to talk about their emotions
Watch your feelings -you don't want to be "high" or "low" you want to be centered.
When his son was out of whack emotionally, it was because he wasn't sleeping enough. If our kids are behaving badly, maybe he needs more sleep - it does no good to harp on his behavior if he is lacking physically.

Oaks Ensign, 94 - My social conscience should no cause me to coerce others to use thier time or eans to fulfill my objectives. We are commanded to love our neighbors, not manipulate them, even for righteous purposes.
- an EQ pres who spends the whole lesson guilt-tripping about home teaching

D&C 124:120 - "more or less" scripture - it is possible to exceed orthodoxy, Oaks Oct 94 Ensign p. 11

We sometimes feel like we have this thing that we love so much that we preach it, making other people feel like they have to do that too. Instead, ask yourself if you should be doing this, or doing it right now.

Nothing about Jesus allows us to imagine Jesus as a sad, gloomy, fatigued, depressed, and overburdened. Or robes flying as he rushes helper-skelter, trying to accomplish 20 things at once. He walked where he went, stopping to pick figs and to talk to the people he saw. - "The Perfect Leader"

Mosiah 4:10 - If ye believe these things, see that ye do them.

The Art of Effective Communication: Resolving Conflict

When we have conflict with someone, it's because they have a need to be met and they choose to meet it in a way that maybe we disagree with.

Ghandi - You must be the change you wish to see in the world. Instead of fixing everyone with all the things we learned at education week, change yourself.

What is your style of conflict?

A hammer - my way or the highway. i'm the mom, that's why. If the only tool you have is a hammer, you look at everything as a nail.

Doormat - let people walk all over her, never expressed herself. if you ask what they want, they say, It doesn't matter what I want. They stuff their feelings, it gets unhealthy (and the hammer person gets away with treating the doormat badly.)

The avoider - would rather avoid conflict. "I see nothing, I know nothing." He knows it exists, j

The denier - I don't even want to know about it. Denies there is any problem at all, isnt' willing to see it.

The Pollyanna - Everything is so wonderful in our family - we get along so beautifully! Our ward is so perfect!

The compromiser - "Let's make a deal" - I'll give up some, you'll give up some and we'll make a deal out of it.

The boxer - they like arguing. If things get too peaceful, they rile things up a little.

A lot of where we get our style is from our parents, some is cultural. New York is filled with hammers, Utah is filled with doormats. Utah Valley is the passive-aggressive capital.

Your style is situational. As a boss, you might be a hammer, but at home I'm a doormat. There are times when each style is appropriate. Make sure you make a choice because you feel it is the right style for the situation. Don't react just because you lose it - make a conscious choice. Each style has consequences.

When someone treats you with a hammer, you feel powerless and take it out on someone else. If you kick your employee, your employee will kick your customers just as hard.

Being a doormat can disturb your physical body. "Feelings Buried Alive Never Die" - has a list of different ailments and what kind of feeling has created the hurt.

When you think of conflict - you think of fight, anger, disagreement etc
Conflict is not the same as contention. Conflict carries negative connotations. We need to see conflict as a positive things. This land was founded in conflict, the gospel was born in conflict.

If there is no conflict, I cannot gain a victory; if there is no victory, I cannot gain a crown of reward. - Joseph Smith

New definition of conflict:
The consequences of difference that exist and need to be managed.

What good can come of this conflict. In each conflict, there is an opportunity to turn the situation for good.
The Lord never warns us against conflict, just contention. Contention has a negative effect on relationships. 3 Nephi 11:29
Mosiah 4:14-15 - teach children to love and serve one another, teach them to deal with conflict in a positive way. When kids have a problem, reply "Good! You see it differently" I'm glad you're thinking on your own.

Second Key - act on conflict in a positive way, not react negatively.
Leaders see conflict as an opportunity. Once everyone sees it that way, they won't feel threatened. When they don't feel threatened, they see it as a challenge.
Isaiah 50:8

Conflict resolution model:
1. Recognize person's feelings - right brain, emotional - don't try to problem solve during emotional, men tend to use meat cleaver to cut through emotions and get right to facts but it's not time. Book: "I don't have to make everything all better" - Lundberg
2. Define problem
3. Clarify expectations
4. Explore alternatives
5. Assist with action plans

At the same time, build constructive relationships, Focus on the problem, and maintain self-esteem for all. As soon as someone doesn't feel of worth, you need to stop and rebuild that relationship/self-esteem/self-worth.

Passive people either avoid or deny - out of concern for themselves. Accommodators are passive but are more concerned for others than himself. Compromisers are in the middle. The better option is to be a collaborator.
A compromise is a low form of win-win - both people leave something behind to get there. Neither person will be completely happy.
Collaboration gets a perfect answer for both people. Listening is the key to collaboration, hearing each others feelings.

The Spirit defines the style. The spirit can tell you to use a hammer, or to let something go.

Have the spirit with you and wear the lenses of charity.
Seek first to understand, and then to be understood. - being a great listener is the most important key to building relationships. If you don't listen long enough, you'll keep working on the wrong problem. You need to find the deeper issues so you can work on solving the right problem.
Men uni-task - when their wife comes up to him with a problem, he needs to stop what he's doing - Stop, Look, Listen
Women also need to stop, look, and listen to their husbands - it's too easy to try to keep multi-tasking when you should be listening.

Book: "You Just Don't Understand"

How to be an empathic listener.
-A wound heals quicker when it's exposed to air.

James 1:19 - let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath

Frequently we listen for what's important to you - instead listen for what's important to the other person and validate that.

Why do we find it easier to be a better listener with total strangers than with those closest to us? Because you aren't part of the problem. You aren't emotionally involved. You are my child/spouse and I know exactly what you're going to say. Learn to listen even though we know what they are going to say.

When you have a discussion, are you a:
mind-reader
rehearser
filterer
dreamer
identifier
comparer
derailed
sparrer
placater

You need the spirit because people will test your sincerity.
You can listen intently for a few minutes, while you are listening for the gist of it. Then your attention drops to zero because you are preparing your response. Then your attention goes back up because you are listening for a place to interrupt - a period, comma, semicolon, breath.

Because they sense we weren't listening they aren't receptive to what you have to say. Plus you might be on the wrong issue because you weren't listening.

I hate school!
Oh, you hate school?
No, I like school, I just hate math.
Oh you hate math?
etc
No, I hate having three hours of homework on the weekend.
It's frustrating to have so much homework. Why don't you get started now?
- validates feelings. If you jumped on "i hate school" and attacked - school is important,etc - you would have missed the whole thing.

The thought -speech differential
I can think 10x faster than you can speak. You have to stop that and slow down your thinking.

Validation is being able to listen to a person without having to change their point of view.

I'll bet that's hard
That must be frustrating
I think I might have felt the same way (You have NEVER felt the exact same way)
What a difficult position to be in.
What a good way to handle that situation.
Oh, no! I know how much that meant to you.
That's got to be a real challenge.
I'll bet you miss her.
What an awkward situation to be in.
I'm so sorry that happened to you.

Making Marriages Better the Lord's Way - What do happily married people actually do? - Brinley

I went to Brinley's other class on Tuesday, but skipped it in favor of Miller's personal effectiveness classes. Which, btw, is a totally good choice. I'm expecting this class to be another very long list, which isn't my favorite kind of class, but whatever. I'm at least hoping it's not "happily married people go on dates, pray together, etc. - stuff I already know."

(I should mention that he's quite amusing, so whatever happens it won't be a waste. He says his wife has as many pillows on his bed as all the tribes of israel)

wearing the temple garment is symbolic, similar to jewish phylacteries - it would be nice if we remember as we put them on that we are grateful for and will remember to keep the covenants we made in the temple.

Bro. Brinley's schedule is to wake up

A barometer for your marriage. Are you:
1. Kneeling to pray as a couple 2x per day?
2. Reading scriptures/Ensign/good books?
3. Temple attendance?
4. Intimacy? Frequency? Enjoyment?
5. FHE - with dad taking responsibility to teach the kids the doctrines of the church?

If a person you baptized on your mission ends up inactive, you know they probably stopped reading their scriptures, praying etc

The first element of a great marriage is to have an eternal perspective - understand our origins/purpose of mortality.
1. we came to earth to marry and experience family life - not possible in premortal life; to experience parenthood. Moses 1:39 We don't want to disappoint Them.
2. Your spouse was your choice to help you gain exaltation; you learn how to be a spouse from him/her. What kind of teacher/student are you?
3. Your spouse has never been a spouse before. Be gentle, patient, kind, charity.
4. Your husband or wife is not just your spouse for this life; not just the parent of a few children in mortality.
5. This life - apprentice in marriage and family stewardships. We find out what kind of husband/father/wife/mother we are.

1st solution - almost without exception, the divorced couples haven't been living the gospel. FHE, family prayer, attending sacrament meetings and Sunday School - Pres. Benson 1974
Get the saints to live the gospel - get troubled couples to live the gospel. First thing troubled couples do is stop praying together, also stop reading together, going to temple etc. Marriage counselors are trained in the doctrine of the world, not the doctrine of the gospel.
2nd - opposite of love is not hate, it's apathy. for them to feel that we are not interesting in their lives, expressing our love and showing our affection in countless ways. We need to be loved and to give love - Teachings of Harold B. Lee 241.

Shaping - comment when spouse does something good/they like. all women have a list of something their husbands should be doing, so they don't compliment/thank husbands - they don't want their husbands to think they are off the hook, that there's no list for them to live up to. You can invite the behavior you want by appreciating the good things they do.

Apathy - you can't shape this. This makes roommates out of what should be loving spouses.

3rd - A happy marriage is not so much a matter of romance as it is an anxious concern for comfort and well-being of your spouse.

Sarcasm - so destructive of a person's worth and value. Avoid it.

Eliminate selfishness, Pride, Apathy

Proclamation on the family - 9 suggestions
1. Faith. Marriage requires faith - faith in oneself, faith in one's marriage partner, and faith in the Lord. - Faust, leadership training Jan 2004.
2. Prayer - 3 kinds - personal, couple, family
3. Repentance - "I'm sorry. I can/will do better. I'm learning." A genuine apology can encourage the other person to recognize their fault as well - a couple that can both apologize to each other improves marriage. Selfish, proud people won't apologize or take responsibility (selfishness and pride lead to divorce.)
what is something I'm doing that is causing frustration in the marriage? do I apologize? what is an example of something I'm not perfect in in our marriage? What is one thing I could do to improve this marriage?
4. Forgiveness - I forgive you. I could have been more helpful. I could/should have done better myself.
5. Respect - Males and females are different - hallelujah! Respect each other's opinions/feelings/thoughts/ideas. Most decisions in the family will be joint decisions you make together - a priesthood holder should not dominate.
6. Love - affection and intimacy. Intimacy drops off when upset - who wants to go to bed when someone's been rude, ornery, angry, upset? Men don't mind, but women do. Intimacy improves marriage.
7. Compassion - understand spouse's response; "I make mistakes too." he/she tried their best. Hate to see their spouse cry - do your best
8. Work - income, money management, finances.
9. Wholesome recreational activities - play/recreate together to build healthy relationships

Notice that communication isn't on the list. This isn't an omission-communication without changing your heart or understanding the doctrine,you just make clever fighters. It's a heart issue, not a skill issue. When we're in love, it's easy to communicate. When we don't like each other, we don't want to talk.

1. Enjoy talking/being together - personal and validating levels of communication. both are comfortable risking personal feelings and ideas.

2. Touch, embrace, physical contact, hugs, kisses, non-sexual

3. Mutual therapists - each one of us marries his therapist. its the person who helps you resolve issues. therapy comes through exchange of personal ideas and sharing emotions. What does a good therapist do?
listen
provide new eyes
encourage different couches
complimens on success (shaping)
is patient, kind, non-judgmental (encourages talking)
helps you ink things through

4. Date frequently - a babysitter is cheaper than a divorce. the kids need a break, too! Both of you need renewal to maintain love. New perspectives come from time off.

5. Frequent intimacy - Sexual relations were designed by the lord.
- therapy - not to be used or abused by offering amere pittance, nor on demand. this is your spouse, companion, confidant, lover, and therapist. Pornography makes men want to do what they see, be demanding.
- sex is not to punish or reward
Elder Holland - intimacy is a sacrament
Self-control required
Kindness - an anxious concern
Intimacy - therapeutic dimensions of marriage: men - love=sex

6. Time with children/grandchildren. Work together. Be gentle and kind. You were young once too.
*Hard for wife to love husband when he mistreats "her"/their children. Husband must be a good father for wife to love him.*

Husband claims they are "not compatible" - asks if he should divorce now while they have time to find someone else, or is this something that will be fixed in the millennium? Bro. Brinley gives man list of 12 suggestions, but says "I don't know if you are humble enough to do them."

TEachings of Harold b. Lee - 249 - if a couple os tiring of each other, it is an evidence that either one or both are not true to their temple covenants.

7. Women want husband who love children; husbands want wives who enjoy motherhood.
1st principle of good parenting -

8. Seek feedback and help each other - being right is not as improtant as bing united. Seek and take counsel from each other. too many of use get defensive too easily.

9. Eliminate temper/anger - great destroyer of families. Penaty of anger is that they won't risk feelings and personal thoughts with you. superficial relationships.

10. sensitive to each otters stress level
dads, get involved in the family enterprise - be the family ceo. Don't be a grouch. Make homecoming a fun experience for kids.

11. Husbands - willingly and cheerfully help with housework, help with children, don't come home grumpy
Wives - greet husband, stop what you are doing, embrace, be more excited to see him than the dog

12. Money management system
- one in charge of paying bills
- both need money to manage
- know where the records are

Kimball - marriage partners must be quick to forgive, cleanse souls of sin bitterness, forgive all real and fancied offenses before asking for forgiveness for our own sins.

How to Be A Better Wife: Be a Fun Living Wife - Merrilee Boyack

Book: "Stand for the Family" - Sharon Slater
We are here to defend the family. Do not be weak and quiet - we need to be fearless. Our children need to see strong women, train your children to be that way. They need to be so strong that they can lead the forces for good.

Quiz: Top Ten Clues That You're A Boring Wife
10. The last treat you bought for your husband is a big roll of garbage bags.
9. You don't have any girlfriends, really, unless you count your visiting teacher.
8. Your bathing suit is at least a decade old and the elastic is shot.
7. You tell your husband you love him once a year on New Year's Eve
6. Your idea of a good time is to clip coupons.
5. Your idea of a fun date with your husband is to cruise the aisles at Wal-Mart.
4. You quit flirting cuz you already got your man.
3. The last time you went on a date with your husband was in the millennium.
2. The last time you went on an overnight with your husband was to attend a funeral.
1. The only reason you're sitting in the class is because you're too tired to move from the last one.

A fun-loving wife sits on the beach, watching the family play while she hides under her towel. A fun-living wife is splashing in the waves with her kids.

A fun-loving woman sits in the house while the family goes on a bike ride
A fun-living woman is on the bike too.

1. Date night - the key to having fun - the #1 thing to do to improve your marriage

Lame excuses -
-No time -your #1 eternal relationship is not important to you - I choose not to devote my time to this. You are training your children to see that this is not important.
-He won't go
-No money - the best dates are when you are broke. With money, you do dinner and a movie. With no money, you take walks, you get Frosty and go to the park. Check some of the creative dates books meant for youth. Babysitting costs are cheaper than marriage therapy.
Groupon.com has great deals for things you can do on a date.

It's preventative medicine, the way to fall in love every week.
How can you expect your marriage to run on no gas?
No more than half the conversation about the children. You don't want to stay in mommy mode.
Ideas:
-go dancing - chaperone youth dances
-take a random road-trip
-do local community event
-visit your local tourist stuff
-ski, snorkel, swim, skate, hike, bike
-take computer to the park and watch dvd
-go to high school musical or concert
-serve at a soup kitchen
-go on a picnic, play board games
-go to the mall & play hide and seek
-go to a public place and say "what's their story?"
-watch sunset and kiss
-shop at the dollar store
-put ideas in a bowl and pull out random date ideas

It is not enough to do an adequate job of being a father and mother. Don't just celebrate children's birthdays, don't just give children Christmas presents. Neither spouse should feel (or act) like one of the children. We need to take care of each other.

2. The couple that Plays together, Stays together
-write down three things you do together
-what did you do when you were courting?
-have you established connections that have nothing to do with your children? what have you established in your marriage that is unique to the two of you?
-what's wrong with football? i.e. what's wrong with doing something that your spouse likes? A parallel marriage can develop if you fail to develop connections to each other.
-do you do something together that is physical? you don't want to be the fun-loving wife that stays home while he does physical activities.
-what interests do you share? history, travel, tom clancy novels - if you don't have any, it's okay to start now.
-when the kids are gone, what will you talk about? What will you do together?
The couple that doesn't not play together, does not often stay together.

3. Take responsibility for your own fun - it's not his job to entertain you.
-Do you expect your husband to meet all your emotional needs?
We have put our family's needs so far in front of our own that we think it's fun to go to Target by ourselves. We need to know what we find fun, what interests do we want to develop.

4. Keep being alluring.
Practice the Elizabeth Taylor method - be mysterious, be unpredictable, be spontaneous.
Occasionally say, "I want to go to the football game with you" or "
Stop-drop-and-roll - stop what you're doing, drop (um, something I can't remember), and roll with whatever your husband suggests. Be spontaneous even if you have to plan it out. Flirt shamelessly.

5. Go on a Honeymoon - again! Who says you only get one?
At least once a year, go away for at least 24 hours. Don't be one of those people that never goes on a vacation without the kids.

6. Be a fun-living wife every day.
Have the awareness - are we having fun in our marriage? Is it stale? Add spice.
Be silly. Wear a silly hat/outfit, make funny body part noises. Kids want a silly mother, stop taking yourself so seriously. Wear a funky costume, feather boa, tiara for no reason.
Treats. We buy them for our kids but not our husbands. Try a new pen, a gadget, card, etc.
Do something sweet. Make breakfast in bed, brownies and ice cream,
Surprises. Meet him for lunch. Have all the kids gone when he comes home. Surprise party.

7. Shared "codes" - what connections have you developed?
What's your code for "i love you?" What are the rituals around arrivals and departures, how do you say it's time to go, I'm bored, you're embarrassing me.
Parable of the see-saw - intensity goes up an down - just stay on the seesaw and enjoy the ride. Sometimes you'll be up, sometimes down, and that's okay. If your butt is on the ground for too long, stand up and give it a push. Put in some effort.

Isaiah: Prophet, Seer, and Poet - Victor Ludlow

Ch. 19:5-10 After 1970, Aswan Dam changed life below the dam changed in drastic ways
16-17 - Fear of Judah in the land of Egypt. Egypt was never afraid of the Jewish people - Jews were always more afraid of Egypt - until June 1967, 6 Day War, Oct 1973, Yom Kippur War. Israel and Egypt are very close to each other. From Jerusalem to Cairo is about the same distance as Salt Lake to St. George. Israel is so small that it is very vulnerable to today's warfare. A given jet could complete a mission and be ready for the next in 3 hours (turnabout time) - can fly 8 missions a day. In the 6 Day War, Israel had so many more jets than Egypt that Egypt complained to the U.N. that the U.s. and France must really be the ones attacking Egypt. In fact, Israel had taken their U.s. and French planes they had bought and altered them to change the turnabout time to only 57 minutes and made 25 missions a day instead of 8.

19 - "In that day" = the last days. An altar to the Lord in the midst of the Land of Egypt. Jewish temples in Egypt - in ancient times there were two Jewish temples in Elephantine and Alexandria. When the Book of Mormon came out in 1830, Jewish and Christian scholars said that Joe Smith must not have known his Jewish history. There was supposed to be only one place for a temple to be built - only in Jerusalem. They said Jews wouldn't build temples anywhere other than Jerusalem, and here are the people of Lehi building a jewish temple in the Americas.
During the Babylonian conquest, some Jews ended up in southern Egypt (elephantine - now called Aswan, by the Dam.) One of the communities built a temple there. Other temples were found in other locations in the Holy Land, built with the same pattern as the temple in Jerusalem. "Canaanite temples built in a period of Jewish occupation" was how some people described it, but now some scholars will say any group of Jews far from their home who wanted obey the law of moses, they would build a temple.
Egypt is today where Mexico was 50 years ago - they are looking for something, not liking the radical Islam, alliance with Moscow and communism didn't work - they want something to help their families and know not where to find them. Egypt is not nearly as fanatical as other areas. The Lord is preparing those people and softening their hearts to receive the gospel.

Ch. 18 - What is the strange land? bulrushes = hollow tubes
April 1844 - last conference were Joseph and Hyrum spoke, theme was missionary work. Hyrum was patriarch and in 1st presidency, said North and South america are the lands in the shadow of the wings. The Lebanese/Phonecians had people as early as 800 BC in the Americas, also the Vikings had people in the Americas. Isaiah didn't need to have contact with the Phoenicians that had contacted the lands beyond the waters of Africa, because of the Lord's revelations.

Style of Isaiah - oral, repeated, poetry

Most delivered orally originally. The written copies were not something the regular Israelites would have been able to own. Scriptures were transmitted orally, memorized through repetition. We could sing many hymns without the book because of repetition. The structure is poetry. Average poem takes up less space than an average essay. Format is parallelism - a pattern of ideas instead of a pattern of sounds, rhyme schemes, stressed and unstressed syllables.

Chapter 1 verse 2 - hear, heavens - ear, earth synonymous parallelism
antithetic parallelism verse 3- (dumb, stubborn) domestic animals know who takes care of them, but Israel doesn't not know the Lord.
Synthetic parallelism - where the first line and the second line are not the same, brought together with a connection. A question and an answer, an idea and a conclusion. 2nd half of verse 2 - nourished and brought up children - what about it? - and they have rebelled against me.
verse 8 - emblematic parallelism - "like" or "as" - this is compared to that
verse 18 - how do we reason with the Lord? faith and the companionship of the Holy Ghost. sins are red as scarlet - symbolic poetry. color red is more gospel symbolic than black (the normal opposite of white) - represents blood, is the color we need to purge from ourself by turning to the SAvior and his accompanying sacrifice.

The Anatomy of High-Trust Relationships: Listening With Love

To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved. - David O. McKay

The amount of contention is an indicator of low trust, being willing to be vulnerable is an indicator of high-trust.

Television teaches our children that most problems can be solved in 30 minutes.
If you see something going negative (in FHE for example) the goal should not be to teach that particular lesson or to have the perfect FHE with no fighting - the goal is to build trust, so switch what you're doing to something positive.
Our goal should not be to have perfect children (or as close to perfect as they can get).

High-risk activities:
Critical feedback
Lasting change/reform
Progress
Eternal Love

One family had a special time when a child could say anything they want without the parent getting mad. They might have still had consequences for what they did, but it was a safe time to talk with trust.

Being positive is not an attitude, it's a fruit of patience. Of saying what's my real goal, what am I really after

Being consistent in living the gospel. Never ask your kid to tell someone on the phone that you're not home. You're teaching them to lie. How would they trust you?

The way you treat the worst child is the trust level of the whole group. If you talk about someone when they're not there, every child knows that you will talk about them when they aren't there.

Be a Listener
Unconditional trust emerges when people move beyond a simple willingness to deal with each other (provided each behaves appropriately) and comes to identify with each other. There is empathy with the other people's desires and intentions to such an extent that you can effectively act in each other's place.

How do you understand someone's desires and intentions to such an extent that you can act in their place?

To Lead - to show by going in front, to direct
To Guide - To model and supervise
To Walk Beside -

Story about a man trying to teach a colt to be led with a rope. He pulls, the colt resisted, he pulls, the colt resisted, until he pulled the colt over. They did this again until he trained the colt to fall over every time they put the rope on. (M. Russell Ballard - One More)

The best way to lead a teenager isn't to pull, but to walk beside him through frequent, positive, personal interaction.

Levels of Listening
5. Does not register. You might notice they are talking to you, but you didn't hear any of it.
4. Ignoring. You have to hear someone, but you're ignoring them. You have to hear so you know when to stop ignoring.
3. Casual listening. Lots of "uh-huh" , you could repeat back what they said.
2. Active listening. Giving feedback, asking questions - this is great listening. Paying close attention, nodding, positive body language.
1. Compassionate listening. John 11:32-36 Lazarus died, Mary was come weeping, fell down at his feet, Jesus saw her weeping and wept himself. Why would he cry if he knew lazarus was coming back to life shortly? Jesus was crying because Mary was crying. The Savior was able to put away what he knew and understood and was able to become what she knew and understood. He felt what she felt. Imagine how that would go between a dad and her teenage son. What if Jesus had said, "You just wait right here, I'm going to fix it! You don't even have to cry or talk about it, I'm going to fix it!" What if you could put yourself if the body of your 4 year old who got pushed by his older sister? That's when you could communicate.

Ask yourself, If that was me, how would I feel?

What air is to the lungs, listening is to the soul.

No other success can compensate for failure in the home. McKay April 1935 -
Did he mean it to be thrown at church members in guilt? No.
Failure - not all of my children went on missions or married in the temple, so I'm a failure
That is the wrong definition of failure. The right definition of failure is - to fail to listen, to not care enough to listen.

No other success can compensate for a failure to care enough to listen to those in your home.

Dismiss the destructive, and keep dismissing it until the beauty of the Atonement has revealed to your bright future and the bright future of your family.
- BYU jan 13, 2009 - "remember lot's wife" (I've heard this is an excellent talk)

Joshua 1:8 - make thy way prosperous and and then thou shalt have good success. All success is good. Is there such a thing as bad success? When success comes at the expense of trust or the feelings of your child is bad success. The Lord wants us to have good success.

Education Week - Wednesday

2010-08-18T16:23:00.000-06:00

This is the second in a series of lecture notes from Education Week at BYU. Hope you like it. :)

Today's classes:

Increasing Personal Effectiveness: Living Happier, More Productive Lives - Kevin Miller

The Art of Communication - Kevin Miller (*has possibly taken over as my favorite class)

The Divine Gift of Righteous Influence - Sheri Dew

How to Be A Better Wife in 4 Easy Lessons: How to Combine "He" and "She" and Not Lose the "Real Me" - Merrilee Boyack (*an excellent class again today)

Isaiah: Prophet, Seer, and Poet- Victor Ludlow (possibly the least interesting class of the day, but that could have been because of my headache)

The Anatomy of a High-Trust Relationship: The Power of Being Positive - Hank Smith (*I particularly loved this class today)

Increasing Personal Effectiveness: Living Happier, More Productive Lives by Kevin Miller

I decided to jettison the first class that I took yesterday (Resolving Marital Issues in Practical Ways) in favor of a class on feeling joy by the same teacher of the communication class that I enjoyed so much. My dad calls this "calling an audible" which I guess is a football term? I think it means (or at least, I've cobbled together from the various times he's used the phrase) that I changed my play spontaneously; I abandoned the playbook and went out on my own. It was a good call; the teacher is Kevin Miller and I really like his energy and enthusiasm.

That We Might Have Joy - Kevin R. Miller

Gospel of Jesus Christ is a source of joy. Men are that they might have joy, not stress, etc. Joy is a fundamental purpose of life. We are hardwired to experience joy.

Study of joy since the 1950's - as affluence increases, our joy decreases. You can never get enough of what you don't need, because it will never satisfy you.
Joy is decreasing because we spend more time/effort accumulating stuff.
We have access to so much information that we feel the weight of the world on our shoulders.
We have become too dependent on technology that we forget that we can be dependent on ourselves. (Youtube - stuck on an escalator video)

Happiness is the object and design of our existence if we pursue the path that leads to it - virtue, uprightness, faithfulness, holiness, keeping the commandments.
He sees more joy, contentment, peace in non-members than in members sometimes. With our increased joy sometimes we focus on our increased responsibilities, focusing more on what we're not doing (that we should) instead of focusing on the things that bring us joy.

Richard G. Scott april 96 - Sadness, disappointment, severe challenges are events in life, not life itself - they should not be the confining center of everything you do.
Peace of mind is temporary. Peace of conscience can be permanent, a general feeling in life that life's okay.

Alma 26:17-18 - Joy of Ammon was so great
Alma 29:16 - soul separated from body (as it were) because of joy

People choose sin because they are making the best choice to meet their need, it was the best option that they could think of. All sin springs from deep unmet needs on the part of the sinner - physical, emotional, spiritual - that's how you can love the sinner and not the sin. Meet the unmet need and sin no more.

Pleasure and happiness are superficial, a deeper joy is always possible.
Have a a higher J.Q. (joy quotient) than I.Q. Teaching Children Joy by the Eyres.

The answer to joy is not to run faster. If I just get up earlier, work harder I can be more perfect, I'll get everything done and be happier. The Lord says, Peace, be still - feel, be. The greatest tool we have for achieving joy is the gospel of Jesus Christ.

We feel genuine joy when our value and worth is affirmed or when we affirm he value and worth of others, through our behaviors, choices and words. Every contact with another person should cause them to feel that they are of worth.

The world shall perish not for lack of wonders, but for lack of wonder. - JBS Haldane
We suffer for lack of woodier, and not a lack of wonderful people. - Emerson
Our capacity for joy is inwardly driven, not outwardly provided.

Close your eyes and think of a recent joyful moment: a moment where you experienced pure contentment, delight and joy.

Joy comes from relationships, not from things. Not from buying a CD or a new dress - that is pleasure. Joy comes from people. Being in nature also brings deep contentment - you can't speed it up or slow it down, we step into nature's world.

"The Molecules of Emotion"
Emotions are molecular/chemical. The chemical triggers the thought. You can't talk someone out of an emotion - you should not invalidate someone because of their emotion. Some chemicals can take 3 days to leave, so even when the situation changes you can still be feeling the emotion for a long time.

There is a physical place in the brain that is designed solely for experiencing joy.

Andehonia - difficulty in finding pleasure in activities that should be pleasurable

Wanting More - the challenge of enjoyment in the age of addiction by Mark Chamberlain

Phenylethylamine (PEA) When we are infatuated, PEA is released into our body giving us a high, which doesn't last, so we seek the pleasure again, thinking that we must have chosen wrong in the first place.
The more we seek intensity, the less we are able to enjoy the more natural doses. We cannot enjoy life by accruing more goods. Our expectations seem to float upon our rising prosperity and shut down our pleasure with each step we take. - Chamberlain

Things can present new opportunities for experiencing joy, but it is up to us to choose to feel joy.

Harvard - the ideal income level for maximum happiness in life is $40,000 - enough to meet needs without the temptation to accumulate stuff.

Affluent children have lower ratings of happiness than children at the lowest economic levels. 2nd generation wealthy, as they grow older, fail to enjoy their abundance, driven by fear of losing their wealth and the desire to maintain the status-quo. - The Millionaire Next Door

Realtors say people buy dream homes and sell them within 4 years because it doesn't satisfy. Utah leads nation in personal bankruptcies, loan defaults,

Joy is not a destination, but a reward for the journey.

Begin each day with joy in mind.
-joy is a mindset. There are two ways to live life. One is as if nothing were a miracle. The other is that eveything is a miracle. - Albert Einstein
Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees -confuscious
write it in your heart that every day is the best day of the year - Emerson

I slept and dreamed tha life way joy, I awoke and saw that life was duty, I acted and beheld duty was joy. - Tagore

Make a joy list of things that bring you joy. things you could do any day, any time of day to bring you joy. (Less than $2)
- Laugh with my family
- Hug my kids
- sit outside in the shade
- unplug and appreciate where I am, what I'm doing, who I'm with

- deep breathing
- hug someone until they let go
- take a walk

Do five every day.

The Joy of:
spontaneity
relaxining
chocolate
laughing
dancing
music
intimacy
breathing
creativity
conversations
sleep
accomplishment
snow
cool water
reading
breathing
taste
relaxing
being touched
the sky
waking up in the morning
trees
pets
smell
learning - stop and drink what is there, enjoy being in the chair where you are.
being childlike - matthew 18:2-3
enjoying what you have
dejunking
postponing, denying, fulfilling a desire
repairing and reusing
feeling boredom
not judging someone
forgiving someone
waiting patiently
tv-free times
spending time in nature

14,000 things to be happy about - Kipfer

People dependent upon their eyes and ears seldom understand the wealth of life that is tangible. - Helen Keller

We can more fully appreciate the simple experience isn life by appreciating them more often. Stop gobbling down food on the run.

2. Choose relationships over things. Don't use people and have things. Use things and have people. Things will never bring you the joy we're talking about.
A joyful heart is the result of a heart burning with love. - Mother Teresa
Marketing and advertising makes us feel like what we have isn't enough and that what they're selling will make us happy. Joy is not in having what you want, but wanting what you have. Enjoy what you have?

Are you wealthy?
1. In addition to walking, another mode of transportation
2. more than one pair of shoes
variety in your diet
more than one set of underwear
Better than 90% of people who have ever lived.

3. Watching our expectations.
Anyone who imagines bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed. The fact is most putts don't drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just ordinary people. Most marriages require a high degree of tolerance. Life is like an old-time rail journey - delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting us have the ride.
Jenkins Lloyd Jones

4. Don't take life too seriously.
Laugh every day, make other people laugh every day.
5. Keep balanced

True joy seems to have a deeply spiritual component - our capacity for joy grows as we increase our spiritual nature.

There is a god-shaped vacuum in the heart of every person that cannot be satisfied by any created thing, but only by god the creator - blaise pascal
let us remain in as empty as possible so that god can fill us up - mother teresa

6. Model and teach joy. Let people see us as a tigger, not an eeyore. Validate their life, let them feel more joy from meeting us.

The Art of Communication: Between Brothers and Sisters-Tips and Tools for Communicating with the Other Gender by Clueing in to Physical, Mental, Spiritual and Cultural Differences

Book:
Feelings Buried Alive Never Die - (I want to get this one)
If you stuff a feeling, it erupts in other ways in your life. Passive communicators have more physical ailments than aggressive communicators.

The Savior used Aggressive, Passive and Assertive communication styles.
Aggressive - John 2:15-16 - he didn't lose it, he sat down, made a whip, tried it out a few times, then took care of business. Made the choice to be aggressive. Matthew 23:27-28
Passive - 3 N. 12:25, John 19:9 - he wasn't afraid, but passive is how he needed to be
Assertive - Ether 2:23 - allowed Bro. of Jared to figure it out on his own, respected him and invited respect
Alma 38:12

Use "you" messages and not "I" messages. When you label someone, they get defensive.
Instead say, "I feel...when...because" messages. You can say "I feel...when you...because..."
"I feel discouraged, sad, or used when the counter is left so messy after snack time because it makes more work for me."
Then ask "How do you feel about it?" and "What can we do to solve it?"
Allows the other person to be involved, to make their own choices.

No one is "never" or "always"
If you continue to do what you've always done, you'll continue to get what you've always got.

Understanding One Another - Communicating With The "Other" Gender

Genesis 2:24 - cleave unto his wife - adhere, cling, or stick fast, be faithful to.

What we are tallking about today are generalizations - they may be completely opposite in your relationships.

What are the common stereotypes of how the other gender communicates?
Men do "report" talking - so, how's the boat, etc?
Women do "rapport" talking - creating bonds, doesn't want to fix anything

Men have a goal in a conversation, they want bottom-line up front - they want to fix things. By nature, if you bring a problem up to a man, they want to fix it. It's the way they say "I love you." Men don't need to make eye contact in order to listen. They grow up playing baseball, football, where the person they are making eye contact with is the opponent.
Men can compartmentalize - they can have all the problems in the world and can go to sleep, knowing that the problems will still be there. Women can't go to sleep until the problems are talked out.

Men love facts and want to be factually understood, women want to be emotionally understood. Men need to listen to women not just to understand but to make the woman feel understood. Even if it takes only a minute to understand the problem, a man should listen to a woman until the woman feels understood (even if it takes an hour.) Once a woman feels understood, they are incredibly capable of solving their own problems. THIS IS SO IMPORTANT, just as much for women as for men. Men fall in love deeper than women, they feel deeper than women, but they are denied their feelings. If a topic has an emotional component at all, you need to listen until the other person feels understood.

Women gossip, chit-chat, relationship-building talk. They are subtle and indirect.
If a woman needs to use the bathroom, don't say "Do we need to stop for gas soon?" Just say, "I need to use the bathroom, can we stop at the soonest place?" Give the man a loving problem to solve.

A woman speaks 5,000-20,000 more words a day, they are more

"Men are Like Waffles, Women are LIke Spaghetti" by Farrels. Waffles are little compartments, each in its own place. Spaghetti is all mixed up in one bowl and needs to talk in order to figure it out.

You know, I don't think I do a lot of the requiring Ryan to read my mind. I think I'm fairly straight-forward, mostly.

Why gender differences?
Gender is spiritual, and essential characteristic of eternal identity and purpose. There are male and female spirits, not uni-sex.
Mena dn women are given different roles, and are given different gifts to help.
Men tend to be more process oriented, relationship oriented
men tend to be more of a problem solver, always work with a goal in mind

Physiological differences - no human organ is more sexually different than the brain. Male and female sex organs are more similar than male and female brains. Women have more cross-lateral connections in the brain, able to use both sides of the brain better. A woman's brain is like a swiss army knife - given a problem, they look at all the different blades to look at the problem and approach it. A man's brain is like a meat cleaver - bring him a problem, and he just chops, even if it creates more problems. Women want to solve things in the best way, men are not afraid of collateral damage. Solving the problem (with a meat cleaver) makes them feel manly.
Women want to talk about a problem because they aren't always sure if the screwdriver or the can opener is the right tool - they don't need it to be solved, they need to be listened to.

Tomorrow's topic - testosterone and estrogen.

The Divine Gift of Righteous Influence - Sheri Dew

D&C 33:3 - it is the last time to call laborers v.6 - will gather mine elect, reap with might, mind, strength, open your mouth and it will be filled

The elect cannot ignore truth when they hear it.
We have so much information, guidance, knowledge of the Lord
We underestimate our potential to have a righteous influence.

Having righteous influence is a gift of the Spirit and is something we should seek. D&C 46:8-9 Seek earnestly the best gifts.
Desire to do what we are sent here to this world to do.

Pres. Monson - the sweetest experience in mortality is to know that our Heavenly Father has worked through us.

A lot of things prevent us from having righteous influence - apathy, sin, etc

May 2009 Christofferson - we need strong christians who can preserver against hardship...who can defend the truth of Jesus Christ against moral relativism and militant atheism.

The principle of the trim tab - the rudder on a cruise ship is pretty small, relatively speaking, but the rudder is guided by a tiny piece called the trim tab. Often with influence you can't see how important such a small thing is. By small and simple things are great things brought to pass - Alma 37:6

Unique Influence of Women
Women are leaders of leaders
Who has more influence on a man than his wife? Or a child than his mother?
Mother is a word that describes leadership or influence.
Women are gifted with an innate spirituality.
The church provides unusual leadership opportunity for women. In the world there are more than 40,000 female leaders of auxiliaries.
LDS women ought to have more influence than any other women in the world.
It is not for you to be led by the women of the world, it is for you to lead the women of the world...Joseph F. Smith

Pres. Kimball November 1978 - The righteous woman's strength and influence today can be tenfold than what it might be in more tranquil times.

Unique Influence of Men
The priesthood makes a man a leader of leaders.
Father best describes the influential role of a man.

Monson - we have been entrusted to act in the name of god, we are the erecipients of a sacred trust.

Truths of Influence
1. We all have more influence than we think we do.
2. Righteous influence is a gift of the spirit
3. Influence is often exerted in small ways.
4. It is not possible not to have influence , the question si what kind of influence you will have
5. No one can replace your influence.

Satan has diverted the view of womanhood and manhood. We have to pass on the legacy of what it means to be men and women of covenant to the next generation.

Maxwell - the highest compliment I can pay you is that god has placed you ere and now at this time to serve in his kingdom, so much isa gout to happen in which you will be involved, which you will have some great influence.

What does a leader actually do?
As leaders we:
Mentor (teach)
Model
Make decisions (judgment)
Motivate
Mobilize

With each principle ask what have I learned, and how can I apply it?

1. Influence depends upon trust. Without trust you can't have influence, only strategy.
If you can't be trusted, you can't lead.
Trust has three critical elements:
-judgment - trust that they had fairly good (not perfect) judgment
-motives - trust their motives are pure
-telling the truth (to yourself and others)

We will not follow someone we do not trust!
D&C 6:18 - admonish him and receive admonition - only can be done with trust

2. Leaders must communicate, but they must do more than talk.
Leaders speak the language of those they lead. For example, in dealing with teenagers, send texts because that is their language. Speaking their language shows love. It is not insignificant that Moroni spoke to Joseph in english.
Talk isn't enough!
If a leader relies solely on talking, his/her relationship will have limited results.
Personal experience is the most persuasive teacher.
Great leaders create experiences.
Experiences are the key to changing beliefs.

We believe in order to get results, we need to change some actions. This doesn't work in the long-term. We need to have experiences that create beliefs which influence our actions and create results.

For example, to get girls excited about going to temple to do baptisms, the ward changed the baptism experience. Changed time to make it convenient, prepared them to make it more meaningful, that experience changed their beliefs about baptism, led to the results they wanted.

Listen to how many times "experience" is used in the temple. Experiences are how the Lord teaches us, how he leads us to beliefs and actions. Attending the temple, experiencing the temple, can help us learn about doctrine and power of the kingdom, designed to help us create beliefs.

An experience that can help us feel the Spirit will change us.
Pres. Lee promised that your testimony will grow if you have a spiritual experience every day. The Spirit will testify to you that Jesus is the Christ.

How to Be A Better Wife in Four Easy Lessons

I'm halfway through the second day, and my brain is on the verge of exploding. Is there a limit to the amount of new information that a brain can take in in one sitting? Because I think I'm at my mental threshold. Maybe that's why, during any mental downtime during the day, my brain kicks into endless repetitions of "Copacabana," the words of which I don't actually know, which makes an already annoying song about a thousand times worse.

How To Combine "He" and "She" and Not Lose "The Real Me" - Merrilee Boyack

Book: Satan's War on Free Agency - Greg Wright, excellent book about choices and includes some about parenting

Things we can do as an individual to make our lives better.

Marriage is like being assimilated by the Borg. We get married and have to deal with the pressure of the expectations of yourself, your husband, your parents, in-laws, neighbors, etc.
We need to learn how to stay "me" and not be assimilated.

Will the Real Me please stand up?

We spend so much time feeding and taking care of everyone else, that we forget to take care of ourselves.
Marion Hanks - Every girl, every woman is a somebody, apart and aside from anyone else, husband, or family, or otherwise.
Self-respect and self-esteem are the products of good self-image.

Do you think Jesus Christ had self-esteem problems? No, because he knew who he was. That he was a son of God. Do you know who you are? Who you really are? You are a valiant, incredible, amazing daughter of God. Never say "I have self-esteem problems." We understand that we are divine, powerful women - don't ever lose sight of that.

Hinckley - We are too prone to be satisfied with mediocre performance. We are capable of doing so much better.

Nourish Your Body
1. keep active, build a strong base of good and vibrant health, to work hard and conditioning and developing a healthy and attractive body - Hanks
Never lose sight of the importance of your body.
-Physical activity is essential to good health-find your own way and mix it up.
-Goal is movement every day. It has to be a conscious choice to move every day, even if it doesn't come naturally.
- Applaud yourself when you're done and you'll be more likely to do it again.

2. Watch what you eat
- Brain first - attitude is the most important part of watching what you eat and the way your body is behaving, wait until your head is in order
- Pick your strategies. Compare your diets to the word of wisdom. The Lord created us, he might know what he's talking about. Incorporate strategies into healthy living.
for example - drink a glass of water every morning, go organic, eat fruits and veggies, etc. - pick top three and focus on those
- Structure a supportive environment - if it's not in your house, you won't eat it. Have supportive people
- Pick your motivation. This needs to be a lifestyle change - why are you changing? Pair of jeans, picture of yourself, motivational CDs or talks, make a promise to the Lord that you will eat well that day then report back

3. SLEEP! #1 key to healing is sleep. To stay cancer-free, sleep is critically important. Fight for your eight hours a day

4. Take a break. Every hour, take a break. 30 seconds of deep breathing, 10 seconds of looking out the backyard, etc.

5. Keep clean. Meticulous care of ourself and our living place and possessions is a hallmark of self-respect and wisdom. You will feel better about yourself if you keep yourself clean.
Consider detoxing your homes.
ewg.org - environmental working group - evaluates items for toxic levels, cosmetics etc. also
Be aware of the chemicals we're surrounding ourselves and our family with.

6. Smile. Cheerful attitude. A smile brings more joy and beauty and attractiveness than anything else.

7. Head and hands. The two things that are almost always visible. Take care of the way your hands look. Take care of your hair and face.

8. Clothes.
-Repaired - don't wear clothes with holes, etc.
-Modest is hottest - even if clothes cover what they're supposed to cover, it might still not be modest. Be careful of "oversharing"
-Attractive for your body style
-Color and style - just because it's in fashion doesn't mean it looks right on you. Dress your age, don't wear clothes your teenager would wear.
-Ask an expert

9. Nourish Your Mind
- Rule for your sons: No dumb chicks. Some women feel that when they finish their education or get married, that's it. At that point, their brains began to shrink. Excuses like "I don't have time, I have kids, what am I supposed to do, read a text book?" What you're really saying is "I am refusing to learn."
- What is our greatest potential? Is it not to achieve godhood ourselves? And what are the qualities we must delevop for greatness? - KImball

Gain intelligence, light and knowledge
Read - ask if it's virtuous, do you want this garbage in your head? Read 5 classics a year, or 4 gospel books a year, whatever - even if it takes you an entire year to finish a book. Carry a book with you. www.TED.com - major speeches available online.
Take a Class
study an interesting topic
Education is never a waste and it's NOT just for our kids!
D&C 25 (?) - our time should be given to writing and to learning much

10. To develop leadership. Hinkcley 5/01 pg. 93 - The whole gamut of leadership is available to women.
11. Extend, exemplify, and teach in compassion and love.
Our gift and our strength is to bring our nurturing abilities to the world. We don't lead like men.
Teach with confidence. It is mothers that are teaching children to be effective leaders. Our experiences are to teach our children how to lead, so teach them with confidence.

12. Nourish your spirit
D&C 25:110 - lay aside the things of the world an see for the things of a better
Without the devotion and testimony of the living god in the hearts of our mothers, this church would die.

Quiz: Scale of 1-10
1. my relationship with the savior is growing. My love is deepening, my understanding of the atonement is growing.
2. I have regular prayer habits - deep communication. Sometimes it's hard to have prayers that aren't "bouncers" i.e. bouncing off the ceiling. It takes time and solitude to have meaningful prayer - search for those two things so that your prayers are truly talking to and with Heavenly Father and not just repeating the same things every day.
3. I study my scriptures regularly. I go beyond just reading and study and ponder. I read the Book of Mormon every year.
4. I ponder my covenants. Temple, baptismal or both - I try to gain a deeper understanding of them and live them.
5. I attend the temple frequently, beyond what is easy.

Work on internal spirituality and not external spirituality. Be humble, repentant, faithful follower o the SAvior who is filled with love for others. There are saints who can check off lots of boxes but are critical and obsessive.

Remember the greatest way to gain the respect and love of your husband is to respect and love yourself. We are too important to starve ourselves any longer. We are somebody. We are worth time and effort.

Isaiah: Prophet, Seer, and Poet

King Manasseh destroyed the temple, the scriptures, gave one of his sons as a human sacrifice to the god Molech (the Canaanite god of war), expected his subjects to do the same. He ordered Isaiah put inside an old, rotten hollow tree trunk then sawed through it with a hard wooden saw to kill Isaiah.

His message wasn't just for his contemporary audience. Isaiah was quoted more than any other O.T. prophet by Jesus and Paul (under "quotations" in Bible Dictionary to see what O.T. scriptures were quoted in the N.T.) Isaiah was referred to as "the prophet." The Dead Sea Scrolls has more Isaiah than any other O.T. prophet, including the earliest known record of the book of Isaiah, on one entire scroll. During the medieval period the books were put into chapter/verse order. The Essene's reader read a scroll while 8-10 scribes hand wrote the text. The hebrew language is consonantal, usually just the consonants were written, leaving a lot of room to make mistakes about what each word was. 150-200 BC is the earliest written book of Isaiah.

As far as we know, there are no original biblical documents anywhere, not even a little piece. All we have of anything of the bible (even N.T.) is copies of copies of copies etc. The Dead Sea Scrolls are among the earliest.

The complexity and diversity of Isaiah's language means that people don't always know if they're being offended or not, so it was left more or less intact.

Isaiah addressed five major topics:
1. To Israel, the northern kingdom of his time. Israel was about to be destroyed and scattered by the Assyrians
2. To his own kingdom of Judah.
3. To other nations. Egypt, Babylon, Syria, the Ammonites, other groups in his time and in other ages. Isaiah the Seer - read chapter 19, dealing with Egypt and realize that this was written by Isaiah 2700 years ago, a few of which had not been fulfilled as of 50 years ago. In 1960 these things still had not happened, two of the three and part of the third have happened in the last fifty years.
4. Messianic prophecies - the Savior's first and second coming, his service in the Atonement.
5. His most dominant topic was the last days. He saw things in the last days that even though we are living it, we aren't seeing it as clearly as he did.

Context and Application
Eastern, Oriental, Semitic, Rural society
Chapter 1 of Isaiah - Expresses first principles of the gospel
-Trust in the Lord = Faith
-Turn, turn back, return = Repentance - the world will take us away from the Lord, we need to turn back - stop doing evil, start doing good
-Cleansing, washing, purifying = Baptism - before becoming an Orthodox Jew one would participate in a washing, in a mikvah watched by 3 witnesses, one of whom is a cohen/a priest, they witness that you go completely under the water. This is closer to what we identify as a baptism than what other Christian religions perform. Baptism is the form, washing is the purpose.
-Spirit, Holy Spirit, gifts of the Spirit, manifestations of the Spirit = Gift of Holy Ghost

Doctrines
1. First principles and ordinances of the gospel - the same as what Adam, Moses, Enoch taught is what Isaiah is teaching.

Covenants
Bible was Old Covenant and New Covenant
Book of Mormon is written that they may know the covenants of the Lord and not be cast off
Covenant appears 150 times in Book of Mormon, most between God and us - located in 3 books - 1st, 2nd, 3rd Nephi. 1/3 of Isaiah is quoted in Book of Mormon, in 1st, 2nd, 3rd Nephi. The book fo mormon writers are quoting Isaiah to teach covenants, in order to help us understand covenants

Prophecies - (Thursday's class)

The Anatomy of a High-Trust Relationship: The Power of Being Positive

Trust - a willingness to become vulnerable (in the short term) in order to reduce vulnerability (in the long term)

Why does the Lord want us to study the creation?
The Lord is telling us that things with meaning take time. There are certain steps involved that must be done in order. Can't skip to Day 6. We try to skip steps in relationships all the time - pretend to be a Day 6 family in church, when we're really a Day 1 family at home. But we really can't skip ahead. Some people only care that it looks like they have a high-trust relationship than if they really have a high-trust relationship.

Very few people can show you your blind spots. Only you can come to those realizations of what you do wrong.

Being Positive

A stake patriarch said that in 998 blessings he's given, they've all been positive. Look at what the Lord could say (to a 15, 16, 17 year old) versus what he could say. How likely wold you go back to the blessing if it said, It doesn't look good, or to the parent who says, Why can't you be more like your sister?

Joseph F. Smith - If you wish your children to love the truth and understand it...love them. Prove to them with every word or act...don't speak in anger - you can't force them to heaven, but you may force them to hell.
Improvement Era, Jan 1910, 276-79

Joseph Fielding Smith - No friendship was ever gained by attack upon principle or upon man, but by calm reason and the lowly spirit of truth. If you have built for a man a better house than his own, and he is willing to accept yours and forsake his, then, and not till then, should you proceed to tear down the old structure. Rotten though it may be, it will require some time for it to lose all its charms and fond memories...therefore let him, not you, proceed to tear it away.

Let someone tear down his own house.

A seminary teacher tearing down the tv show "friends" ended up with the kids defending the show to the death. Create for them a better house and let them tear down the old one on their own.

The same works for children - "Why are you watching so much tv?"

Joseph Smith - a human relations master - Nothing is so much calculated to lead people to forsake sin as to take them by the hand, and watch over them with tenderness. When persons manifest the lest kindness and love to me, O what power it has over my mind, while the opposite course has a tendency to harrow up all the harsh feelings and depress the human mind.

this is why the church doesn't defend itself with harshness against it's enemies
If a therapist denigrates an abuser, it puts the victim in the role of defending the abuser.

Ceaseless pinpricking can deflate almost any marriage...Generally each of us is painfully aware of our weaknesses, and we don't need frequent reminders. Few people have ever changed for the better as a result of constant criticism or nagging. - Spencer W. Kimball

A low-trust relationship does not allow for criticism. If criticism is taken defensively, it's a sign that you might be in a low-trust relationship.

A positive attitude is not always the answer. Running a marathon in shoes that are too small, having a positive attitude isn't going to help. To be positive includes a patience factor.

If you want something done by your children (i.e. clean your toys) , that's your goal - to achieve your goal we usually start with patience, then start threatening, then get scary.
What if your goal changes to a trust-building interaction - you are less likely to get frustrated and upset. The toys still need to be picked up but changing your goal in the interaction will keep the relationship intact.

Proverbs 16;32 There is need of much discipline in marriage, not of one's companion but of one's self. Cultivate the art of the soft answer. It will bless your homes, it will bless your lives, it will bless your companionships, it will bless your children.
We seldom get into trouble when we speak softly. It is only wen we raise our voices that the sparks fly and tiny molehills become great mountains of contention....The voice of heaven is a still, small voice; likewise, the voice of domestic peace is a quiet voice. - Pres. Hinckley

Boyd K. Packer story - son stole and wrecked the family car. At the police station he said, I want to talk to my dad. Clearly there was a high-trust relationship in place before the crisis.
In high-trust relationships we share information, in low-trust relationships we protect ourselves. In high-trust nurses group, the more high performing group had more mistakes reported - not that they had more mistakes, but because they felt comfortable reporting their mistakes. Do we want our kids to tell us when they screw up? Then we need to create a safe relationship.

Education Week - Tuesday

2010-08-17T15:51:00.000-06:00

Normal college students, when they have a mere ten days between the end of the summer semester and the start of fall classes, they go on vacation. A trip to Disneyland, or camping with their friends maybe. Not me. In my ten day break, I'm spending four of them...at college.

It's a different college, if that makes it better at all. I'm attending Education Week at BYU, something I've done a couple of times before. Every day (well, Tuesday through Friday anyhow) there are hundreds of classes to choose from, and I try to cram as many in as my brain can possibly allow. I usually hit mental meltdown after the 5 pm session, and I always regret not making it through the last three or four sessions in the day. Crazy, yes, absolutely.

This year I vowed to take more religious and doctrinal classes instead of the psychology and self-help I usually take. You know, the "how to be a better mother/wife/teacher/friend/religious person/etc in just four easy lessons!" type of class. I figure if it's a topic a therapist would normally charge $90 an hour to coach me on, I ought to take advantage of the lesson for free. This year, I told myself, I was going to focus on the spiritual side of my life. I was feeling disconnected spiritually, and I wanted to aim for a more spiritually-intensive week.

Which is how I ended up in "Resolving Marital Issues in Practical Ways." Sigh. This old dog isn't learning any new tricks, apparently.

Even though my classes might have the same tenor as all the other years, something has changed - technology. The last time I was here was 2008, I typed my notes on a Palm with a separate keyboard. It was pretty cool, and enabled me to take some killer notes. This year, though, I have abandoned the Palm in favor of my new iPad. It has a built-in keyboard on the screen but typing with it is a challenge. It's slick and you can't feel the edge of one button versus the next. I took notes in the first two classes this way, and I got used to it, mostly. But you know my dad, if there's a cool gadget available, it's got his name on it, especially if it means he gets better-quality notes from Ed Week classes. So at lunch I apprehended his new iPad keyboard, and the last four classes, the notes were substantially better. So everyone say, Thanks Dad! :)

Here's a list of the classes I attended, plus my opinions of them:

Resolving Marital Issues in Practical Ways - okay, lots of lists of problems and not many solutions.

Effective Communication - really interesting, I liked it a lot

Burying Our Personal Weapons of Rebellion - meh. Won't go back tomorrow.

How To Be A Better Wife In Four Easy Lessons (I told you that's the kind of class I go to, right?) - *Favorite Class of the Day*

Isaiah: Prophet, Seer, and Poet - lots of history, easy to understand.

The Anatomy of High-Trust Relationships - pretty good.

Without further ado, here are my notes for Tuesday's classes.

Brinley - resolving marital issues in practical ways (this one is lots of lists)
15-17 percent divorce rate in temple marriage, 25 in non-temple lds marriage

Problems in marriage:
Pride
Unwilling to apologize or repent
Hard hearted
Lack of self discipline-pornography is killing us. If not for that problem, I wouldn't
have a job (he's a therapist, I think.)
1/3 use porn, 10percent addicted in utah valley
Lack of positive communication, validation
Role expectations
Tempermental, angry, easily offended
Meanspirited, ornery
Don't handle stress well
Immature
Differences in beliefs
Money management
Use of leisure time
Physical limitations, depression, illness
Differences in child rearing
Domination, smothering, overpowering major factor in divorce
Sexual incompatiblity/frequency
Slobs, sloppy housekeeping
In-laws
Gender, personality differences
Decision making, power issues

To enrich marriage, solve those problems.

Why do lds couples get divorced? Is it...
Ignorance of communication, social skills?
Easy soft life, not tough enough, willing to quit?
Marry too young, need more maturity?
attitude about marriage in culture, we glorify marriage, yet people are unprepared
Unwilling to forgive faults, harping on mistakes?

A small measure of repentance and forgiveness would heal many wounds
Know how to lift and bless each other
Selfishness is the root cause of problems in marriage.
Should have Anxious concern for the comfort and well being of spouse
Selfishness causes adultery, money problems, is the antithesis of love

Too many that come to marriage have been coddled, spoiled, expect everything to be right all the time, that life is a series of entertainments, Appetites to be sated.

Divorce is not a cure, merely an escape. Every divorce is the result of selfishness on the part of one or both parties.
The acceptance of divorce as a cure is a serious sin of this generation. Marriage never was easy, it never will be, it demands great selflessness.
The lord does not condone abuse, adultery, etc - there are justifications for divorce.

True doctrine will change behavior faster than psychology, pres. Packer

You can always see pride in someone else, but it's hard to see in yourself.
Every time people get riches, leisure time, easy life, it leads to pride.

Maxwell: selfishness activates all the cardinal sins, it's the detonator in breaking the ten commandments.

D&C 116:11. Be ashamed of littleness of soul.

Examples of selfish/unconscious behavior
Flaky people do not make good marriage partners

(this is a sampling of some selfish behavior, not all apply to everyone, obviously.)
will not home teach, visit teach monthly
Unviersity faculty-teach what they want, phd egos
Husband complains meals are not ready when he gets home
Cut across lawn instead of sidewalk
Litter
Watch too much tv
Overweight not due to genetics 1/2 of Utah are overweight. There are no heavy old people, don't leave your spouse a widow
Boys won't serve missions - 1/3 of ym are serving missions. If more men served missions, it would solve a lot of the marriage problems - maturity, activity in church, learn to be selfless in service.
Brings books to sacrament meeting
Don't want more children when age, health ok, or anxious to delay family
Leaves clothes on dressing room floor
Monopolize remote control
Children won't go to mutual, scouts, or only go when treats, fun
Sleeping in church meetings, temple
Gossip
Opinionated beyond good sense
Keep walking during national anthem ( byu students)
Driving habits
Talks during movie
Sucks joy out of life on a daily basis
Hold grudges
Defensive behavior when confronted
Not "into" family history, but really into tv
Humble only during crisis
Won't share gospel with nonmembers
Wont accept/fulfill church callings, doesn't show up for primary/ss, no call to leaders
Pornography
Wants sex on demand, but not kind in non-sexual ways
Anger, temper displays
Wife won't participate in intimacy after menopause. intimacy is to strengthen marital bond, not just for procreation
Public image inconsistent with private behavior
Moody, irritable, hostile
Watches R rated movies, despite leaders' counsel
Won't vote
Go into debt for items to impress others

Selfishness and pride are killing marriages. These small indicators of selfishness can be warning signs of larger pride problems.

Love is one of chief characteristics of deity, ought to be manifested by those who aspire to be sons of god
HC 4:227

If you want to improve marriage:

Sensitive to neighbors, new converts, inactive
Sensitive to singles, single parents in ward
Compliments sacrament speakers genuinely youth speakers
Shovel sidewalk
Make tentative comments in class - leave room for new ideas, thoughts.
Attend evening sessions of stake conference
Pick up litter
Never criticize
Turn off tv, spend time with family
Spend time one on one with children, correct them in private
Speak highly of spouse and children in public
Thank people for service
Listen to what others say, write things down
Anonymous gifts, generous with money
Pray
Help children with reverence
Be on time for meetings

Selfishness in husband
Critical of wife's appearance
Critical of wife's driving
Critical of wife leaving lights on, on phone too long
Fussy about everything
Is sloppy
Seldom expresses appreciation, gratitude but demands intimacy
Tirades against kids when they spill something, but wouldn't treat neighbor that way
Hoards money
Wife has to exchange sex when wants money
Criticizes children to wife, she is expected go fix it
Teaching kids though ger
Irritable when doesn't get his own way
Not a companion to wife.
Critical of church leaders
Wife has to arrange spiritual activities-does not ask wife or children to pray with him
Critical of wife's weigh etc. after pregnancies
Publicly interrupts wife, criticizes etc
Treats other women better than own wife.

Can you imagine our heavenly parents not speaking to each other for three days?
Prosperity is as much a test as poverty is.

Effective communication - what is your style

To live with saints in heaven is glory, to live with them on earth is another story - brigham young

We're all striving to understand or to be understood

What was Christ saying when he said let all your speech be yea yea, nay nay - be clear, simple. Silent treatment doesn't work. Say what is bothering you instead of guilt trips, grouchiness, resentment.

Men are driven by objectives, they tune out metamessges.
Speech should be:
1 Peter 3:10
Moses 7:18
Colossians 4:6

Nothing you do or know takes away your worth
Our communication should always support the worth of a human soul
Believe that people are making the best choices they can make in that moment. Don't tie people's behaviors to their worth. We can talk about their behavior and leave their worth intact. No one has more or less worth than anyone else.

All communication should build unity and trust. Even correcting behavior should be done by building unity and trust. Communication gets us from understanding to unity and trust.

Seek first to understand and then to be understood.

Three parts of the brain:

The "lizard brain" only asks three questions. Can I eat it? Can it eat me? Can I mate with it?
The "monkey brain" feels emotion. Read When Elephants Weep about how animals feel emotion. Monkey brain communicates through emotion.
The "angel brain" - the neocortex - invites us to think with our values. Rational decsion-making.

When the mind goes blank, remember to turn off the sound.

Books:
Crucical conversations
You just don't understand
Men are from mars
I don't have to make everything all better.
When Elephants Weep
The Art of Giving and Receiving Criticism

We must become the change we seek in others - ghandi. If you want more love in the family, be more loving. Be a better listener. If you want your spouse to listen to you, spend a month being a great listener, then your spouse will be more able to listen.

All men listen to fix things, even when the person doesn't want to be fixed.

Five Basic Needs of Every Person
1. I am of worth. Intrinsic and unconditional, unconnected to their behavior. If you can communicate with that in mind, they will accept what you have to say. Otherwise, they will feel rejected or of less worth, it will not help them change their behavior. If you want your child to do better, why would you make them feel worse? Don't make them feel chastised or diminished.

2. My ideas, feelings, thoughts, and perceptions matter and have been considered.
3. Someone really cares about me.

4. What I do is making a difference in the world. A negative difference if not a postive one. I would rather be wanted for murder than not be wanted at all. (um, that's not me, it's just something the teacher said.)

5.My agency has been honored. I am not being forced, I am free to choose.

Communication is any connection between human beings.
Nonverbal speech is half of what we say. People will believe a nonverbal over a verbal any time.

Parkinsons third law
The void created by the failure to communicate is soon filled with poison, drivel and misrepresentation.

If I don't talk it out, I'll act it out. Talking behind someones back is acting it out, they should be talking it out. The other person can feel when you're acting it out.

Step out of your autobiography when you're listening to someone else. Listen to the other person instead of preparing your autobiographical response.

Have the spirit with you. Wear the lenses of charity. It never faileth.

A sender sends a message, encoded through the nders experiences, emotions, culture, attitudes, language. The receiver has to decode message thought the receivers own experiences, etc.

Covey. You don't see things as they are. You see things as you are.

Dc 50:21-23

If our communication does not edifying, it is not of god.

The spirit is the common communicator. It takes the message from the sender to the receiver. Pray before an important conversation.

Hebrew 13:16

Four types of communication
Aggressive - aims to invade, control, take advantage of another
Passive - aims to allow others to invade, take advantage, and control withnspeakers consent
Passive-aggressive- aims to manipulate others with indirect, dishonest messages. Silent treatment, guilt trips, sarcasm. Utah is capital of passive aggressive communication, smiling on the outside with other feelings on the inside.
Assertive - aims to express thoughts, feelings, beliefs, open, honestly, directly and appropriately.

Burying Our Personal Weapons of Rebellion
Tuesday: Recognizing our weapons of rebellion and raising shields of faith - lessons from Alma 24

d&c 84:45 the word is truth, what is truth is light, what is light is the Spirit of Jesus Christ.

Pres. Monson - is there a goliath in your life? does he stand between you and your desired happiness? he might not be ten feet tall, but it will be just as formidable. laziness, fear, lust, selfishness, discouragement.

- why liken the scriptures unto us?
1 Nephi 19:23 For our profit and learning.
Mormon 9:31 that we may learn to be more wise
Moroni 10:3 - To remember how merciful the Lord has been.
Read, ponder, pray - to receive the spirit of the lord

Anti-Nephi-Lehies valued their bright, clean swords more than their lives. Instead of staining their swords with the blood of their wicked brothers, they buried their swords in the ground, then made a covenant (Alma 24) that instead of killing to defend themselves, they would rather die.

In the attack, 1,005 faithful are killed, but the hearts of their attackers are touched. That day, more repent and join the gospel than those who are killed.

What swords/weapons are used in our personal battles today? Not the physical kinds of swords, but the weapons that come from being a carnal, natural man.

A weapon is any tool, device, attitude, or characteristic designed to do harm, injury, destruction
Wielded with malice, anger, violence, with selfish intent
These are negative in our lives
not necessarily physical - words can also sting (Proverbs 18:21)

Jeffery R. Holland, April 07 - A woman's words can be more piercing than any dagger ever forged. (Read whole talk about bridling the tongue. If you can handle it. I can't.)

Identifying the weapons we use
*by recognizing them, we can bury them and raise shields of protection
What is in your sword closet?

1. Weapons of social warfare - those we use against our neighbors, children, friends, in social situations, relationships.
Impatience - the inability to wait
Anger, unkindness - let go of our emotions and lash out
Judgment, prejudice, gossip - jumping to hasty conclusions, based on inadequate information
Dishonesty & deceit - withholding information, distort and twist, white lies to deceive

I the lord would forgive whom I would forgive, but you must forgive all men.
Ephesians 4:26
D&C 101 - in patience possess your souls

The weapon of anger
road rage - anger unraveled
No one makes you angry - it is you who are in control of your emotions. We don't need to focus on the wrongs around us. Instead, focus on the positives.

Shields against social interaction weapons:
Lifting and building others
thinking of someone else
follow the Savior's example - What would Jesus do?

2. Weapons of internal conflict - when we beat up ourselves. They are not always easily seen, but very deadly, and come in all shapes and sizes.
Apathy - I just don't care. Loss of ambition, that which prevents us from doing something. leaves us stuck in a rut.
Procrastination - So often the things we procrastinate are the most important to be done now.
Habits/Traditions - the ingrained actions that pull us down, pull us further away from Heavenly Father.
Fears - what we dread or try to avoid
Addictions - traps we can't escape, the worst forms of habits.

Many of our conflicts have to do with relationships and how we perceive ourselves.

Self-Defeating Behaviors - (for example) requiring the house to be perfectly clean for visitors is self-defeating behavior, causes more stress than necessary, a little dirt is okay

Shielding from internal damage:
Self-esteem
self-confidence
personal values and congruency - do what we say, be the same on the inside as on the outside
focus and face them - seek for outside help
seek peace which passeth all understanding - Phil. 4:7

3. Weapons of enmity - "hatred toward, hostility to, or a state of opposition" - Benson
the weapons of - comparing, contrasting, and competing

Pride - the universal sin
Selfishness - excessive concern with self
Unrighteous dominion - dictatorship
"Me" versus the world - how can I get ahead of you? How can I knock you down, or get in your way? I know more than you, I am better than you, I can direct you better than anyone else.

Pride - when everyone else is wrong and I am right.
(*side note - how often do I hear lessons like this and evaluate everyone I know, instead of looking at myself?)

Benson's talk on pride:
Pride is the spirit of "my will and not thine be done"
the proud aren't interest in changing their opinions to agree with god's
From CS Lewis - pride gets no pleasure of out having something, only out of having more of it than the next man.
Pride from the bottom looking up: hating the fact that someone is above you.

Shields for the weapons of enmity:
Apply gospel patterns in every day living. Set aside the natural man, become a person of Christ
Humility is the antidote
serve others with love and charity

Raise shield of faith
Be submissive to God
Be thankful for the truth
Allow a higher power to protect us (the essence of faith)
See things in an eternal perspective - the big picture.
Actively raise our shields.

Shields are protective measures. They are the positives that bring the Spirit into our lives
The single most important thing you can do on a dily basis, is feel the influence of the holy Ghost.

As in overcoming addictions, remember
1. you cannot do it alone
2. you must have a higher power's help
3. The Savior completely understands you (Alma 7:11-12)
4. Daily you must build patterns of heavier to become more like the Savior - obedience and devotion are linked to this
- daily devotions - prayer, scriptures, humility
- listen for His voice (D&C 18:34-36, 68:4)
- Serve others (Mosiah 2:17)

Raising our shields centers around understanding Jesus. As we become more like him, we raise more shields and choose not to use our weapons.

Put on the whole armor of God to stand against the devil, the adversary. Ephesians 6:11-18

Loins girt with truth
Breastplate of righteousness - guarding the heart, the heartfelt feelings
Feet shod with gospel of peace - walk down the straight and narrow path (*walk gently in the world)
Shield of faith - a belief, knowledge, trust that there is someone who knows more than I know, who can guide me because I don't know all things, but He does.
Helmet of salvation -covers the head where we have intellect and understanding. Care about what goes inside our brains, bring in only knowledge and wisdom that comes from God and not from the adversary.
Pray always

We all have weapons that must be laid down. Replace them with shields of faith.

Merrilee Boyack - How To Be a Better Wife in Four Easy Lessons!
Tuesday: Ten Do's and Don't of Wifehood

I saw my dad in the hallway as I waited in line for this class to start. We joked that this class couldn't be held in a room on the second floor, because the combined weight of wifely guilt would crush the people below.

Okay, disclaimer before the class starts. It takes a lot of guts to come to a class like this and then to publicly announce the Do's and Don'ts where my husband might read it. After all, I certainly don't want HIM to know exactly what standard I should be held to, right? I want him thinking that he's got it good - the last thing I should do is let the cat out of the bag that I am merely a sub-par wife, and hand him the list of things he needs to start grading me on. To that end, if I find that this class is too unrealistic (read: that I am unlikely to ever do all of the things on the list) I intend to write my own list of Wifely Do's and Don'ts. And I don't intend to tell anyone if this is the real list or my made up list. (Of course, it'd be a dead giveaway if #3 is "Keep up-to-date on technology, specifically hand-held gadgets made by Apple." In that case, I'm just going to hope that Ryan doesn't bother reading this far into the post.)

"I know you're just here to take notes for your daughters-in-law." Also, she made the men in the room take a no-poke pledge - they can't poke their wives and say, "Pay attention to this part!"

Ask yourself, If you were dead and gone, would your husband pick you again?

1. Thou shalt have no other gods before your spouse. Don't have any intimate partner other than your spouse. Not sex (although, that too) but emotional and mental intimacies should not be confided to other people. Not your parents, not your best friends, not your children.
Pres. Kimball - "Oneness in Marriage" 9/76 - People continue to cleave unto their mothers and fathers and friends. To cleave does not mean merely to occupy the same home; it means to adhere closely, to stick together.

Security comes when a child knows that her father loves her mother.
D&C 25 - how to be a glorious wife. Let thy soul delight in they husband.
Sometimes we don't make husbands our top priorities.
www.johnroseman.com - marriage preceeds children and is meant to succeed them. When a child is the center of his paretns attention, their relationship is in jeopardy.

Quiz: Are you married to your husband or your children?
1. Do your children stay up past 9 or 9:30 in the main family area?
The importance of putting a child to bed is so daddies and mommies can become husbands and wives again. Bedtime is an exercise in separating the child from the marriage. When the children are around, you are a mom.

2. Do you go out with your husband and without your children at least three times per month?
This is the most critical thing you can do.

3. Have you gone on an overnight without your children in the last year?

4. Compare the last time you bought the kids a treat, versus when you bought your spouse a treat?

5. Analyze the conversation when you are with your spouse. Is your conversation about the children greater than 50% of the time?

Sometimes we let our wifeness get consumed in motherness. How much time in a week are you just a wife? The Lord asks us for 3 hours a week - your husband should get at least that much. This all is so important because once the kids leave, you will be staring at this man and realize you have no marriage.

2. No graven images. Do not put money, house, job, stuff before spouse or replace spouse. D&C 25:10 - lay aside the things of this world, and seek for the things of a better.
Thank your husband. Don't fixate on bigger, better things (house) that tells your husband he isn't doing good enough. You don't need a fancy house, clothes, car - a great gift we can give our spouse is contentment. We already live in opulence.

3. Don't take his name in vain.
Respect spouse and privacy. Don't gossip about spouse, don't participate in husband-bashing. Allow them the privacy that they deserve, and the time to change. How would you feel if your husband talked to his friends about you the way women talk about their husbands?
Have the integrity to be able to say to your spouse, "Your name is safe in our marriage."

"I have to talk to my friends, because my husband doesn't talk to me."
"Does your husband know what you're saying about him?"
"Yes."
"Then he'll never talk to you."

You don't build feminine causes by tearing down masculine roles. Let every mother understand that if she does anything to diminish their father, it will do irreparable damage to her children and their sense of security. Women are so superior that you demean yourselves when you tear down your husbands. (Pres. Kimball?)

4. Don't burn out - rest from labor
Schedule cave time - for each of you! It is critical for each of you to have time to yourself
Respect his rhythms and don't fight your own. Give them 15 minutes after work to transition. If you're a morning person and he's a night owl, respect the differences instead of fighting against them.
Have healthy friendships - so we can talk about things that we don't neccessarily have to talk to our spouses about.
Take fieldtrips. Take trips on your own, individually. Support your spouse in taking a trip, he'll come home happy and loving.

5. Don't kill what worked at beginning of marriage.
You looked good - a lot! No one wants to come home to sweats and ponytail. Take care of yourself, be attractive. He is surrounded by attractive women all day, make sure he comes home to one.
You talked to each other. Now we talk AT each other. When you were dating, you talked to and listened to each other. Talk with him and listen.
You did things together.
You complimented him. Call your husband and tell him "You're a stud!" How would he walk around after you say that? Great outfit, nice hair, have you been working out? Men are like a parched desert - one tiny compliment will work wonders.
Flirt - shamelessly.
Spent time together.
Continually fall in love.
"There must be continued courting and expressions of affection, kindness, and consideration to keep love alive and growing." Pres. Kimball

Date Night - #1 Marriage Saver

I know of no couples who had weekly date nights who ended up divorced - not one.
How can you expect a marriage to run on no gas?
Rules - less than 50% of conversation about children.

Five Do's

1. Honor Parents
Keep them out of your marriage intimacy
You love them more thanever, you cherish their counsel, but live your own lives.
Emulate what worked well
honor him as father of your kids/honor her as mother of your kids - tell your kids they have the best dad on the planet.

2. Do value your spouse - don't covet another
Are you still pining for what you didn't get?
If we are wishing for something else, our husbands feel it.
When we wish we had something/somebody else, they feel like they never measure up. He knows it.
Treat your spouse at the level of divine nature. See him as a beloved son of God. It will change your interactions with him.
Pres. Hinckley said, "When you are married, be fiercely loyal to one another."
What do you want to end up with? Focus on who he is at the end, focus on your end goal, see the progress instead of the distance to where you want to be.

3. Do value yourself.
Equal partners working together, you get oneness. 1x1= 1 1x0=0 You must be an individual - husbands do not want weak wives. If your spouse is controlling, be strong with him. If we respect ourselves, he will respect us. I am a wife, I deserve respect. The children do not always come first, and that's important for our children to know.

Choose to be a partner.

You will have repsect when you take care of yourself and respect yourself.

Develop your self.
Best spouse is a true person
one of the great mistakes spouses make is to stop growing.

Being a wife - Ann Reese, Ensign 9/84 - it is the duty of each woman ot come to know and accept and enjoy being herself. she must respect her own inner strengths.

4. Do Gain an understanding of what a man/woman is
Our perspectives are different. You can't see clearly through someone else's prescription glasses.
Our brains are different.
One of the biggest insights gained in my marriage is that he is a guy.

5. Do Value your commitment - gain a testimony of your marriage.
This may take time.
Pray for your spouse specifically and daily. Show me the things I can do to bless him. Pray for his calling, work, fatherhood.
Ask your Father in Heaven for this testimony.
Go do sealings and listen to your promises and blessings.

Victor Ludlow - Isaiah: Prophet, Seer, and Poet

Words of Wisdom D&C 88:118
Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Job - the wisdom literature books of the Old Testament
They talk about "wisdom and understanding"
Job asked, What is wisdom and where can it be found? Sometimes we'll need to put in the same kind of effort as when searching for precious gems.

Job 28:28 - The fear of the Lord-that is wisdom. (not college degree, or test score, or mastery of a subject.)
"Fear" in Bible Dictionary - has to do with reverence, worship, awe, respect, veneration - to respect the Lord, to worship the Lord, that is wisdom

What is "wisdom" to Latter-Day Saints?
D&C 76:5 - I, the Lord, am merciful and gracious unto those who fear me.

"Understanding" is to depart from evil, to choose to do good. Wisdom and understanding is a belief and a practice.

Ten rings to unlocking Isaiah
1. Appreciate the historical setting and context.
Isaiah was born about 775 BC, 100 years after Elijah and Elisha. He was born in upper-middle class or upper class Judean Jerusalem society. Extremely well educated, brilliant in his mastery of the hebrew tongue. As a teenager or young adult, a prophet was called to go to Ninevah to call Assyrians to repentance. Babylon and Assyria were striving for domination of Mesopotamia. Assyrians had stronger imperialistic desires; they used propaganda, fear, and intimidation. If Assyrians wanted to conquer Utah Valley, they would give communities ultimatum - we're the big power, we're going to take over - if you submit peacefully to our rule and keep paying taxes (to Ninevah instead of IRS) then everything would be just fine. If you don't, there will be terrible consequences - slavery, destruction, etc. If lands banded together against Assyrians, Assyrians would pick one city and destroy it. Women would become prostate slaves, children sold as slaves, men would be kept alive as a lesson - torture, seriously gross torture. Decapitated heads would be piled in a major public area as a warning to those who might rebel. That's what Jonah faced when he was called to bring Assyria to repentance.

There was usually more than one prophet at a time. Perhaps Job, definitely Hosea, Micah, Amos, Jonah. Usually one of them tends to be the "head prophet" - Amos and Isaiah held that role.

Isaiah was raised in the time of Uzziah, a teen who became king and ruled for 50 years. Wealth power and influence put on a teenager usually does not turn out well. Uzziah wanted to be more than a king, wanted to burn incense in the temple. He was told no, then when he did it anyhow, he was struck with leprosy. Great political power, but was considered the least of the least of the people. Everyone kept their distance - a mere touch of a leper would make you unclean. Uzziah ushered in Silver Age of Israelite history. (David and Solomon 300 years before was Golden Age.) Uzziah ruled in Southern Kingdom of Judah. Egypt, other countries were dealing with internal conflict and basically left Israel alone. Avergae people were doing badly morally, economically and the prophets addressed that.

2. Isaiah was a prophet, seer, and poet.
95% of Isaiah's writing is in poetry, mostly parallelism. Looking at two things side by side, natural tendency is to see things that are similar or things that are different.

Most of the words of ancient prophets were transmitted orally, much more frequently than in writing. Writing materials were too expensive, each sheet of paper was handmade. It helps if a speaker in an oral society packages the information easier. If you're not trained to listen you might miss the nuances. We need to be disciplined to learn how to listen.

929 chapters in O.T., 66 in Isaiah. To memorize a chapter, it needs to be repeated, over and over. A mathematical formula takes between 100-200 repetitions before it is memorized. Most of what we hear in the church is familiar to most of us, but repetition is the key to learning. A lot of things are repeated in Isaiah. If we hear it once, it might be interesting, if we hear it 2 or 22 times, we know it must be really important.

Often messages are short and structured. Our conference talks are much longer than a typical "talk" by Isaiah.

3. Philosophy.
Pay attention to Isaiah 6 and 1 Nephi 16. Isaiah has a vision in the year king Uzziah dies. He saw the lord, hears seraphim, is struck with fact that he's in the presence of the divine. He feels impure, unworthy, imperfect - no unclean thing can enter the presence of God. Seraphim touches a coal to his lips (why his lips? I don't know) and cleanses him. Then he hears the voice of the Lord asking for someone to volunteer for something. Isaiah immediately says Here am I, send me. The Lord gives him the charge to go out and teach these people what I'm telling you, they're not going to listen to you so make it difficult for them. That way they can listen but not hear, see but not see. Similar to Jesus starting to teach in parables. The Savior used simple parables, Isaiah used symbolic poetry. In both, you can hear but not understand the message. Isaiah is to hebrew like Shakespeare is to English, like Goethe is to German, a genius of his time. What if both Apostles and anti-mormons were listening to this talk? What if it was also being broadcast to 18 million? It would be terrifying. Isaiah taught prophets and haters, the enemies to God were in the audience. Highly diverse people (for 3000 years) have been reading this.

4. Witness.
Isaiah is writing what he was told to write. 98.6% of the gold plates was written by 4 people - Nephi, Jacob, Mormon, Moroni. Mormon was the editor, but Jesus was editor-in-chief - all four men saw Jesus Christ personally, and they wrote that which they were commanded to write. This wasn't their personal agenda, it was given to them by the Lord and they wrote it as a witness. Isaiah was also a witness - even though it was originally oral, it was commanded to be written to be a witness to the House of Israel.

Read Chapter 1 of Isaiah, it 's the preface to Isaiah, verses 2-20. Read it as homework, see if you can find the first four principles and ordinances of the gospel. Won't be in the same vocabulary. How did Isaiah in a Semitic hebrew environment teach teh exact same principles and ordinances of the gospel?

The Anatomy of High-Trust Relationships - Healing With Humility

To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved. David O. McKay
Sin attacks trust, one of the most damaging effects of sin. pornography, adultery, dishonesty destroys trust.

If a car is a relationship, trust is the oil. Without it, nothing works. The relationship will go nowhere. Trust is the lubricant in relationships.

People naturally seek to reduce vulnerability and uncertainty. Uncertaintly and vulnerability increases stress. Trust reduces vulnerability and uncertainty. Women are not allowed to attend this class and then judge their past, how much better you should have been. It's not right to judge yesterday's mistakes with today's knowledge. Elder Holland - It's not right to go back and open up an ancient wound that the Son of God died trying to heal.

Teenagers need predictability - they need the certainty of what mom and dad are going to say every time.

5 facets of trust:
Benevolence - the person who wants me to trust them cares about me, not just about themselves
Competence - you can trust someone who is skilled (i.e. surgeon)
Honesty
Openness - how much I am going to share with you
Reliability - predictability, I can count on you every single time

Building trust in a low trust relationship:
1 on 1 & Group Interaction
Frequent
Personal
Positive
Low-risk - no one is vulnerable in the interaction

Family Home Evening is the best place for these interactions. The hardest part is keeping interactions low-risk - people tend to make it high-risk too quickly. Teens have more interaction with their friends (and therefore more trust) than with their family. Rules and consequences should be set unemotionally, before the problem occurs, when everybody's calm. Don't get mad about an unknown rule.

false assumption - 30 year marriage doesn't make high trust, or they're my child, we have high trust

Why do we want high trust relationships?
High-risk activities:
Critical feedback
Lasting change/reform - in a low-trust relationship most time is spent protecting themselves, looking for failures as proof of low-trust. in high trust relationship, you don't feel vulnerable and you can improve. low trust is a cycle - I feel vulnerable, I find things that make you untrustworthy, I trust you less.
Progress
Eternal love

You can never stop doing the low-risk strategies. Date night for married couples is an example.
You always need to be having frequent, personal, positive, and low-risk interactions.

How to go from low to high trust?
Be Humble
Be Positive
Be Consistent
Be a Listener

We assume we can't be the problem because we care, we have good intentions.
Matthew 7:3
Luke 6:41
Why beholdest the mote in thy brother's eye but considers/perceives not the beam that is in thine own eye?
What is scarier, to not consider or to not perceive?

Matthew 26:20-22 - One of you shall betray me, they were sorrowful and said, Lord, is it I? If I find a problem in a relationship, the best thing is to ask first, is it I? You aren't always the problem.

Blame can't be the concern here - you can't say "Honey, your half of the boat is sinking." We're not about blame, we're about solutions. Teenagers aren't ever going to take the blame, so trying to put the blame on them (or to show them their problem) isn't going to work. be a good example, look at yourself first - is it I?

J. Smith had heard a scandalous story told about him. he let his mind run back and thought if he had laid the building blocks for the false story and if he had, he forgave his enemy and thanked him for showing him a weakness that he hadn't already known.

Homework: Helaman chapter 1 - who is humble, and what does the proud one cause? what does being right
and having to be right cause?

Summertime And The Living Is...Busy

2010-08-03T09:50:00.000-06:00

It's been a while since I posted, (as Ryan comically said, "You've got a blog?? I thought you forgot!") so I thought I'd show you what's been going on. Here's some of the things that have kept our family busy this summer.

(Okay, so for some reason I can't figure out how the photo system works with WordPress. If you're seeing garble-de-gook under this sentence, click on "read more" - the next page should have it right. Hover over the pictures to get the caption. I couldn't figure out how to get the captions to show automatically.)

[gallery link="file" columns="2"]

I can't guarantee August will be any better, post-frequency-wise, but you can rest assured that there will be good pictures to make up for it in September. If I can figure out how to make it work.

This Book Changed My Life

2010-07-09T07:51:00.000-06:00

I re-read "Fahrenheit 451" by Ray Bradbury for my YA Literature class this week. Published in 1953, "451" examines the role of books in a society that censors information 'for the common good.' If you haven't read it, then put down your laptop, unplug your earbuds, turn off your wall-sized flat-screen and go buy the book. Now. I'm not kidding.

I tend to get melodramatic when I talk about how much I love Fahrenheit 451, so I will try to keep the hyperbole and exclamation-point usage down to a bare minimum. I first read “Fahrenheit 451” my senior year of high school, way back in 1994, in Ms. Farley’s 20^th Century Lit class. To say that I fell in love with this book would be an understatement. I was positively enraptured by it. I had never read a book that encapsulated my feelings towards books so thoroughly. Books were (and remain) my life blood. I inhaled books like they were air. I read a dozen books a week during the summer months and stayed up way too late to finish whatever book had me in its clutches. Earlier, in elementary school, I took books to the playground during recess – I remember sitting on top of the monkey bars, crying at the end of “Bridge to Terabithia.” My parents instituted a “no books at the dinner table” policy, solely for my benefit. To read about a society that destroyed books, that abandoned them and devalued them – well, it was as if they were devaluing me. But when Faber and Granger (and even that slimy, hypocritical, literature-quoting Beatty) talked about the importance of books, why they must be respected, preserved, their power and potential – it gave me the answer to why I loved books as much as I did. It was an insight into myself, a validation of my obsession. I didn’t read just for escape – I read to be part of a community of people who hold history in their hands, who can shape the future because they know the past.

Given that I was reading this for a young adult lit class, I had to question why this book is designated as for teens. The only teenager in it appears for mere pages; the main character is a thirty year old man. I can only assume the designation is for the benefit of teenagers like I was. Maybe I needed to ally myself with Montag against the evil Beatty so that I learned not to discount my book-loving instincts. Today’s youth (gosh, even saying that phrase makes me sound so old) need to see how easily books can be displaced by ipods stuffed ubiquitously in our ears, by wall-sized tvs and a "family" that we interact with only on screens. We might be standing on the precipice already. The world needs enough lovers of books to prevent this kind of future from happening.

What books changed your life? Which ones made you a reader, or taught you things about yourself that you never knew? What books contributed to make you the person you are today?

Put Me In Coach - I'm Ready To Play

2010-06-18T17:04:00.000-06:00

Brad hates playing center field. On his Little League team, the Nationals, all the action happens in the infield. There is very little ball-hitting, on any of the teams. The kids strike out swinging, sometimes, or get walked. Once on base, the runs are all scored by taking advantage of errors. For a game that requires so much catching, there is precious little catching going on. It’s mostly picking the ball up off the ground, after chasing it across the infield. So a typical play goes like this: pitcher pitches, batter swings and misses, catcher misses also. While the catcher is scrabbling on his hand and knees to get the ball, the player on first steals second. The catcher finally gets the ball, throws it towards second to get the runner out, but the ball goes through the second baseman’s legs, and the runner steals third. This can be repeated as many times as necessary until the runner, who probably got walked on base in the first place, steals home. Ryan calls this “slop ball.” It is exceedingly painful to watch, especially if you like baseball.

Since the ball reaches the outfield approximately once per game, Brad considers playing centerfield a punishment. First base is his preferred position – but I bet it is for most of the boys. Being relegated to center makes him reluctant to go to his games.

Tonight the Nationals were playing the Rays. Brad was playing deep center, and by “playing” I mean crouching down, shifting his weight from foot to foot while the other team’s score inches up. The third inning is a bloodbath – the score is one to five, then one to six, then one to seven. The ball wasn’t hit a single time. It’s one to eight, two outs, runners on all the bases, the pitcher seems to have completely forgotten where home plate is, and I’m just dying, waiting for it to end. Out of nowhere, the batter hits a pop fly – a gorgeous, perfect arc, straight to center field. I don’t even have time to pray as Brad runs for the ball. I can’t see him through the infield players, but he’s on the ground. His hand shoots straight into the air – he’s holding the ball.

The entire field erupts. Both teams - players, parents, and coaches - are cheering. The other coach tells our coach how beautiful that play was. A parent loves how he thrust the ball in the air, as if even Brad was surprised that he caught it. It was perfection, that play. It looked like real baseball.

As the team came into the dugout, Brad is smiling, but he’s trying to play it modest – everyone is congratulating him. I’m trying not to cry. Is there anything more wonderful than seeing your child succeed? This person that I created, I love him so much that I feel as happy as if I caught the winning ball myself.

Well, it wasn’t the winning ball. The Rays ratcheted the score upward – it was two to thirteen when we go up for our last time at bat. The coach says, “Eleven to tie, twelve to win. We’ve got them right where we want them.” The Nationals did their best – Brad scored a run (on a walk and three steals) but the final score was still eight to thirteen. Someone from the League was at the game, and he presented Brad with the game ball. Brad practically floated to the car - parents high-fived Brad and kids called out “good job” to him. The only thing missing was the team hoisting him on their shoulders or dousing him with a cooler of Gatorade.

“I can’t wait till Tuesday!” Brad sings. “It’s my next game! And I can’t wait to play center field!”

Spoiler Alert

2010-06-08T11:47:00.000-06:00

Is there a statute of limitations on spoilers? After a certain amount of time, is it okay to openly discuss endings of popular tv shows, books, movies? Am I allowed to announce "Bruce Willis was dead the whole time?" (If you don't know what that refers to, I won't say, since it would obviously spoil it. Whatever it is.)

I'm thinking right now about Harry Potter. I decided to reread the 7th book (okay, relisten, actually) for my class next semester. We could pick any HP book, and the Deathly Hallows is the only one I've only read once. I knew how it ended, knew who died and who lived, so I wasn't in for any surprises. The surprise ended up being just how emotional I got about a book I've read before. I was listening while grocery shopping on Friday and Dobby died just as I got to the dairy aisle. There I was, tossing Yoplait into my cart, with tears dripping down my face. I tried to be surreptitious about it, holding back the full-on sobs and dabbing at my eyes and nose, trying to prevent the mascara streaks that are a dead giveaway of public crying. I'm evaluating the price of pork chops while Harry is digging Dobby's grave with his own hands - it was all I could do not to just head to the checkout. What's the point of living, if Dobby's dead? But no, Harry was tougher than that and I could be, too. I did throw in a bag of Donettes, to ease the pain a little.

My first instinct when I got home was to share my pain, or at least, the spectacle I made of myself. I mean, who cries in the grocery store? That's funny, right? (Actually, this wouldn't be my first grocery store crying incident - I also cried in Wal-Mart while waiting for an anti-nausea prescription to be filled. Ah, pregnancy. Please let me do THAT again.) So I tried to phrase the scene for Facebook:

Emily Mudgett Simmons broke down in the dairy aisle today, listening to Harry Potter. Not Dobby! Take me instead!

And then I realized that I couldn't post that without a spoiler alert, which would, of course, ruin the flow and pacing of my carefully crafted status. Then I thought, wait a second - who hasn't read the final Harry Potter book that actually intends to do so? The only people that haven't read it either a) aren't readers, b) don't care for fantasy/YA books in general, or c) are one of those people that are avoiding reading HP because the books are "too popular" or have "too much hype." I suppose there are people who were too young to have read this book when it came out three years ago, but I'm not friends with many nine-year-olds on Facebook. Or people that have only recently moved here from another country and are learning English by reading great literature - those would be the only people for whom I'd feel bad about ruining the ending. The people in a) and b) won't care if it's ruined. And I almost WANT to ruin for the people in group c) because I take it personally when someone refuses to read one of my favorite books for what I consider to be a not very good reason. (I don't know why this is, why HP turns me into a raving, judgmental lunatic.) In the end, though, I am so conditioned against spoilers that I couldn't do it. I had to let that status go.

So what do you think is the statute of limitations on spoilers? Is it too soon to talk about Harry Potter? And does anyone else cry in the grocery store?

Workin' It

2010-06-05T16:05:00.000-06:00

Used to be, I would have a crummy day, or the kids would do something atrocious, or I'd do something embarrassing, and I'd throw open my laptop and pour my frustrations and angst and whatnot onto the pages of my blog. If I could spin it and turn it into something to laugh about, I loved it and was happy. If I couldn't make it funny, I'd at least have gotten my thoughts out there, and I'd be relieved. In either case, I could count on at least a few people to read it and tell me I'm okay/I'm funny/I'll survive. Writing was an outlet, the relief valve that I could turn and let off my stress, my concerns, my thoughts.

Used to be, I'd come up with a topic to write about - in the shower, while driving, during a particularly boring talk in church - and I'd positively skip to my computer to let the inspiration pour from my mind, through my fingers, all over the keyboard. I'd walk away from an experience like this spent but elated. Writing at those times was fun and fulfilling - it was what I imagined writing was supposed to feel like.

It's not feeling that way anymore. I think I'm killing writing.

Lately, writing itself has been kind of stressful. I know it's this class I'm taking - the professor's goal is to get us writing not just well, but in prodigious amounts. Plus, everyone writes about these serious, dark topics which give their essays an emotional punch even if it isn't well written. Curse my luck for having a pleasant childhood! I have two and a half weeks left and I still have another 10-12 page essay to write, along with revising the two I've already written. Anytime I'm not writing (which, as a mother of four, is frequently) the pressing weight of my writing obligation is smashing down on my chest.

I know what the problem is: I've turned my hobby into my job.

I told Ryan this tonight and he laughed out loud. "Welcome to the club!" he said. Ryan learned Flash animation as a hobby, something to do in the evenings while I read. Now, of course, it's his full-time job and he's once again hobby-less. Granted, he gets paid decently to do his work/hobby so he's not complaining, but he's back to staring at me forlornly if I want to spend an evening on the couch with a book.

What used to be a creative outlet is now a requirement. I've got a boss and co-workers and deadlines and a never-ending performance review. I'm not saying I want to give up writing or anything, and I recognize that it's hard right now because I'm learning and (hopefully) improving. Theoretically it will get easier and my writing will get better. But for right now, my stress-relieving crutch isn't working, and I'm walking around like a gimp.

So I'm searching for a new hobby, or maybe a revival of an old hobby. Something creative. Something tactile. Something that I can do for an hour and then look at the thing I've produced and be proud of it. I'll take suggestions if you have any. And any ideas for a 10-12 page essay, preferably something about a tortured childhood, let me know. I'll split my paycheck with you.

Summer Reading List

2010-06-02T03:47:00.000-06:00

I got my reading list for the Adolescent Lit class I'm taking during the second half of the summer. I have to read a different book for every class period (3x per week) but most of the books look good so I'm not unhappy. In fact, I like having a stack of books just waiting to be read.

Go Ask Alice- Sparks
Walk Two Moons – Creech
Out of the Dust – Hesse
Nightjohn – Paulson
Watsons Go to Birmingham – Curtis
Fahrenheit 451 – Bradbury
Graveyard Book – Gaiman
any Harry Potter book
Shipwreck at the Bottom of the World – Armstrong
Hitler Youth – Bartoletti
Touching Spirit Bear – Michaelsen
Breathing Underwater – Flinn
Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes – Crutcher
Stuck in Neutral – Trueman
American Born Chinese – Yang
Higher Power of Lucky- Patron
Seedfolk – Fleishman
Rules – Lord
Catcher in the Rye – Salinger
Forever – Blume

I've read 7 of these books before. I decided to start with Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (since it's easily the longest book on the list) and I'm loving it. What a great book series! Fahrenheit 451 is another I'm looking forward to re-reading. And the third Hunger Games book comes out in August, which I will definitely make time for. I'm least excited about Forever by Judy Blume. I read it in middle school, where it was known for having the "good" scenes dog-eared for easy reference. And by "good" I mean "inappropriate for a twelve-year-old."

How about you? What are you planning on reading this summer? Have any fond (or not so fond) memories of any of the books on the list?

It's My Party, I Can Cry If I Want To

2010-05-30T11:01:00.000-06:00

I am a good mother. I am a good mother. I am a good mother.

At least, I thought I was.

Darcey's third birthday is tomorrow, and since I've waited, oh, half my life to throw a Princess-themed birthday party, I've decided this year is the year. No matter that Darcey is probably too young to appreciate or even remember a birthday party. No matter that she doesn't understand the birthday party concept enough to know she can ASK for a particular theme. See, that's the beauty - this is MY party, disguised as my daughter's. It's a win-win, and you know how much I love a win-win when one of the wins is mine.

My mom sent me a link to a blog with a cute Tinkerbell party idea. There were magic wand party favors and fairy wings and Tink's Beauty Salon and crafts and homemade butterfly-shaped waffles for breakfast. It was cute and inspiring, exactly what I was looking for. Good, easy ideas for a girl's party. But then I made a horrible mistake.

I kept looking at the website.

I know that doesn't seem drastic, but you don't understand the potency of a website like this. This blogger plans elaborate - and adorable - parties and then posts the pictures with instructions to replicate the event at your very own house. Instead of looking at these ideas for what they are - simply ideas - I'm looking at the blogger's life. She throws birthday parties. She celebrates not only the standard holidays (Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter) but also the extra holidays, like St. Patrick's Day and April Fool's and Valentines Day. She turns kids' playdates into full-blown events, with tablecloths and place settings and themes. She throws parties for Dr. Seuss's birthday. She throws parties for no reason, like a Curious George party or a My Favorite Things party for her girlfriends. She babysat a friend's kids and turned it into a Teddy Bear Picnic.

When I babysit my friends' kids, they're lucky to come home with both shoes, let alone a goodie bag.

Do you realize what this means? It means that this kind of lifestyle is possible. And that's the reason I'm over here, hyperventilating. Because this is the kind of mom I wish I was. The kind that makes napkin rings out of coordinating scrapbooking paper. The kind that makes party favors and goodie bags and homemade Death Star-shaped pinatas. You know, the kind of mother that loves her children.

Ryan found me reading this blog, my self-respect shrinking with every ladybug-shaped-strawberry, and begged me to turn it off. "You'll make yourself crazy reading that," he told me.

"But, look! She sprinkles glitter on the guests' heads to turn them into princesses!" I exclaim.

"That sounds messy."

"And then she sends a tube of princess dust home with each kid."

"You would do that to your friends?"

Um, okay, he had a point there.

"You know who I want to talk to?" Ryan asked. "I want to talk to this lady's husband. I bet he is getting seriously neglected."

Yes, but think of the children, I wanted to say. Brad and Noah were looking over my shoulder, exclaiming about the Hershey Kiss-shaped rice krispy treats and the firecrackers made out of Life Saver rolls. "Admit it," I told Brad. "You wish I did stuff like this."

He paused. I know it's horrible to put your kid on the spot like that, but if I'm already a horrible mother, I might as well go all the way. "No," he said loyally. "That lady is a perfectionist. I bet she makes her kids clean all the time." Good answer.

I couldn't stop looking at the website. It was a kind of parenting self-flagellation. If I was a good mother, I'd throw a Polar Express party for my kids' friends at Christmas. If I was a good mother, I'd make butterfly-shaped apple slices for their lunch box. (That assumes I was a good enough mother to make their lunch, which I'm not.) If I was a good mother, I'd print candy bar wrappers for every single holiday known to Hallmark. If I was a good mother, I'd bake my kids' birthday cakes, instead of buying them.

What kind of lousy mother am I? This wasn't how I was raised. I used to make birthday cakes, and cool ones too. I made a cake shaped like a hamburger, a basketball, a pool-shaped cake with Jello water and gummy sharks. I used to throw parties that required hours of preparation. Now I pride myself in how little work I can get away with and still call it a "party." If I don't outsource the party to Chuck E. Cheese.

There's no other explanation for it - I've let myself go.

How can I live with myself? My children are going to end up delinquents, living on the street, eating out of dumpsters, and when This American Life shows up and asks how their life went so horribly wrong, they'll say, "It's all my mother's fault. She made me buy school lunch every day. For my birthday, she gave me a store-bought cake and then made my friends run around the backyard for an hour. There wasn't even a theme. If only she had loved me enough to let me dip my own caramel apples! If only our house was decorated for Chinese New Year! Oh, the horror!"

I mock, but I really, truly wish I was that kind of mom. I wish I could get a coalition of mothers together so we can decide on some kind of minimum standard for good-motherhood. Anyone who exceeds those standards can do so if they want, but the rest of us, the lower-rung, under-achieving mothers, we don't have to feel obligated. Until then, I'm just going to keep repeating my mantra.

I am a good mother. I am a good mother. I am a good mother.

*p.s. I bet you're wondering where's the link to this uber-party website, right? Well, I'm not going to give it to you. I wouldn't do that to my friends.

Boredom Watch 2010

2010-05-28T03:31:00.000-06:00

Hello, folks, and welcome back to the most anticipated event of the school year, the Last Day of School! That day where the pain and torture of sitting at a desk all day and learning stuff can finally come to a blessed end. That day where all of the dreams and goals and plans that would have been getting done all year, if not for school, can finally be accomplished. That day that has been circled in red on every kid's calendar since way back in August.

And thus we begin Boredom Watch 2010. How long will the glorious release of summer last until the first child says those magic words, "I'm bored!" For those of you just catching up, our current record holder is Brad from 2008, when he crossed the whining finish line a mere one hour and eight minutes after the school day ended. 2009 was a disappointment - the kids finally, finally dragged their tired, limp bodies, already worn out from literally MINUTES of playing, into the Boredom record books at four hours after school. I know we can do better than that.

Brad walked in the door at 9:25 a.m. While we wait for the first update, I'm going to re-post a part of last years' Boredom Watch entry which I thought was particularly amusing.

We are on Boredom Watch 2009 - the clock is ticking and we are counting down to the first "I'm bored" of the season. I know in some families this concept would be foreign, what with all their happily-spending-time-together, playing-board-games-and-singing-songs, who-needs-a-tv-when-we-have-each-other moments. Maybe some families have children that know how to entertain themselves, but I don't. Weird, because you'd think with all the neglecting of them that I do, they would have figured it out by now.
Sometimes I wish we lived on a farm, the romantic kind of farm in my mind where the boys help Pa with the chores without complaining, and Darcey and I spend our time keeping house. We'd make huge meals from scratch, all organic and free-range and whatnot, and because we had to thresh the wheat and churn the butter, the homemade bread would be the best thing you ever tasted. It's the sacrifice that gives it it's flavor. The boys would come home all tuckered out, but they'd still have time to meet up with their friends to play kick the can, or hit a hoop with a stick. Or maybe they'd be too tired from all that hard work to do much more than talk about that cute girl down at the five-and-dime and make plans for repairing the fence on the back forty. But that's just a pipe dream from a woman who would be personally unwilling to give up her laptop, ipod, washer and dryer, etc etc etc. Yes, that lifestyle would be the true survival of the fittest, and we'd prove ourselves to be lazy, fat, sloth-like couch dwellers ready to be picked off.

For kids who have every conceivable entertainment at their disposal, summer can be a really boring time,apparently.

So the countdown begins. Will this be another record-breaking year or will 2010 go down in history as the first time since school was invented that children find non-boring things to do all summer? Stay tuned to find out.

Update #1 - 11:15 and no sign of boredom yet. In fact, no sign of my kids - the boys are all off with their friends. It seems that boredom will be held in abeyance until the friends get bored of my kids.

Update #2 - 2:35 and still, everyone is occupied. I left Ryan as the Boredom Monitor while I was at school and he reported zero incidents of boredom so far. We've now passed the five hour mark - already an hour longer than last year! Can we keep this going? Does anyone have a contact at Guinness so we can register this?

Update #3 - 9 p.m. Zack is in bed, the other boys are on their way, and not a peep about being bored. We lasted the entire last day of school with no boredom! Can this be? Is it possible we are turning over a new, self-entertaining leaf? No, I dare not say that out loud. I'll just think it...and keep you posted tomorrow.

Armor Adventure

2010-05-23T02:00:00.000-06:00

It’s 37 degrees and raining.

“They’re not going to cancel just because of the rain,” Ryan says.

“I didn’t say they would.”

“I know, I’m just telling you because…well, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m tougher than you.” I glare at my husband. I’m already reluctant, insults are not helping his cause. I agreed to dress in Ryan’s stormtrooper armor for the Walk With Angels, a fundraiser to support caregivers of disabled children. The garrison was asked to be there at 8:30, dressed by 9, mingling with attendees until the walk begins at 10. Ryan is beside himself with excitement that I am dressing up today. I am less excited. The alarm went off at 7:15 this Saturday morning. I only set the alarm on the weekend for darn good reasons, like my wedding, or auditioning for “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire.” This does not feel like a good enough reason.

Driving to Lehi under an unfurled black tarp of a sky, I know I’m going to be miserable. I hate being cold. I hate feeling stupid. I’m going to voluntarily dress up like a life-size action figure and stand in the rain so that strangers can stare at me? I don’t know what I was thinking when I agreed to this.

The park is nearly abandoned when we get there at 8:45. A few people are huddled under pavilions, filling helium balloons and organizing t-shirts for the registered walkers. Giant bounce houses are inflating and man-sized speakers are playing upbeat music, “Kokomo” by the Beach Boys. Ironic.

“I feel so stupid. Why am I doing this? I’m going to look like an idiot!” We slowly cruise by Darth Vader on the sidewalk. I groan. “I have to stand next to that guy. I am going look like a moron!”

From the backseat, nine year old Noah says, “Mom, stop saying that.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.” I shut up. The internal monologue doesn’t stop, though, and now it includes I’m such a horrible mother. What am I teaching my children?

We find a parking spot and pile out of the van. Ryan opens his enormous Rubbermaid tote, the size you’d buy to stuff a body into, not that I’ve considered it or anything. The armor parts are neatly stacked inside and he locates the thigh pieces. It’s time.

I unbutton my jeans. A black bodysuit is on underneath, but I look around quickly anyway to make sure no one is looking. I feel like a creep, taking off my pants in a suburban neighborhood. I pop those thigh pieces on with lightning speed – now if anyone looks out the window, they’d see a half-dressed stormtrooper, and not a half-undressed woman. (Which, frankly, few people would complain about. Trade me for my husband and someone might call the cops.)

The armor goes on quickly and I’m grateful for last night’s trial run. I’ve pulled my hair into a low ponytail and secured my bangs with five clips. Ryan helps me across the street before he puts the helmet on my head. The transformation is complete, and I’m feeling sick. “Wait, Ryan, I need to scratch my nose!”

“Too late for that. There’s no way to get your hand in there.”

He’s keen to my stalling tactics and he steers me past the parked cars and over to the grassy area where Darth Vader waits along with a TIE Pilot, Boba Fett, a Jawa, and two Imperial Officers. The Imperial Officers are Vader’s daughters, proving that nepotism in the Empire is alive and well.

Two girls standing on the sidewalk are pointing and giggling. “Ryan, they’re laughing at me!” I say, panicked. I knew it!

Ryan turns on the optimism. “No, they’re smiling at how good you look!” I give him an incredulous, how-can-you-be-so-blind look, but he can’t see me through the helmet. I wave to the gigglers and they wave back. At least they didn’t trip me, I thought. This is worse than walking through middle school with a “Nerd” sign taped to your back – this is a giant, flashing neon “Nerd” sign, with spotlights pointed at my head. Blending into the background is not possible when wearing armor. I miss being a wallflower.

We catch up with the rest of the garrison. To Vader, Ryan says, “This is my wife, Emily.” I wave. Vader waves back. “Emily, this is-“ he cuts off when a little boy walks up. “… Darth Vader,” he finishes lamely. In front of other people, we are to call each other by our characters’ names. We also can’t take our helmets off – we don’t want to ruin the illusion. I never do find out Vader’s real name.

Ryan turns to me. “Stay by Darth Vader. If anyone wants to take his picture, you jump in there, too. Don’t put your blaster down or you may never see it again. I’ll come back and check on you in a little while.” I nod, but my helmet smacks into the chestplate. I wave instead. “You look great,” he says and smiles.

I stand there. I don’t know what to do. The only kids there are the children of the volunteers and they are staying under the pavilion. My vision is limited to anything above my nose – below that, I’m blind. I can’t see little kids unless I bend forward at the waist. I shuffle in a slow circle to get a good look at my surroundings. Vader’s gone. I see him striding across the grass, already forty feet away from me. Crap! I could run (okay, shuffle) after him, but instead I decide to stay with the rest of the group, milling around by the registration booth.

Three hoodie-wearing ten-year-olds come up to us. They look a little nervous and hang back a bit, so I wave. One boy waves back and they turn to each other and laugh. A second boy stands in front of the group and, arms outstretched, he yells, “Shoot me, Stormtrooper!” I take careful aim with my blaster, and pull the trigger. Electronic shooting sounds send the boy gleefully crashing to the ground. Aww, I think, they’re playing with me! How fun. The boys huddle up, then one pulls out a ladybug-shaped umbrella. He points it at me and starts opening and closing it, circling around me and yelling, “Bang! Bang! I’m shooting you!” I shoot back, turning to follow him with my scope. I feel something touch my back, and I realize I can’t see the other two boys. The umbrella-wielder was distracting me so that the other two could sneak up behind me and touch me. The boys ran away, laughing. I wish my blaster shot real bullets.

Two women in their forties see me standing on the grass and come over. They are excited to see me. “Can we get a picture with you?” I nod. They hand their camera off and stand on either side of me. The TIE pilot and Vader come from behind and get in the shot. A dad brings his daughters over. He’s clearly more excited than they are. We take pictures with them and the dad is delighted. Watching someone else be this happy about Star Wars characters makes me smile.

The TIE pilot points to the sun, finally emerging out of the clouds. Addressing Vader, he says, “Look, sir, the sun!”   Ugh, cheesy. I remember dressing up to go to Renaissance Faires in high school. My friends and I were involved in theater, so being dramatic in public was standard operating procedure. Tim, my most eccentric friend, once spent an entire week speaking in a British accent. He’d be the one at the Faire calling everyone My Lord or My Lady, pulling out every Shakespearean phrase he could. He clapped coconut shells together as simulated horse hooves, a la Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I went along with the crowd, but I was never able to lose myself in my character and stop feeling cheesy. The armor provides a level of anonymity, at least – no one knows it’s me in there. The TIE pilot’s point is accurate – the sun had come out, and it was finally warming up a bit.

Over the next hour, things got fun. Families streamed into the park and I learned to enjoy people pointing at me. A toddler spent five minutes staring. I waved at him and slowly he crept toward me. I was waving at some other kids when I heard more than felt my thigh pieces cracking into each other. The toddler had reached me and wrapped my legs in a big hug. I couldn’t see him but I rubbed my hand on his head. He let go and ran back to his grandma, the huge grin on his face a mirror to my own.

The United Angels Foundation provides support and relief for burdened caregivers and developmental aid for the individual “angels.”   Many of the families that attended the walk had disabled children with them. One little girl was wearing a red sequinned jacket – she was part of a dance group performing at the fundraiser. She was seven or eight and had Down’s Syndrome. I waved and walked closer to her, she waved back and smiled at me. Her mom was nearby but didn’t approach with a camera, so the little girl and I stood and looked at each other. I held out my blaster. As she took it, her eyes behind her glasses lit up. Her smile was so wide that her tongue hung out. She turned to show her mom the blaster then turned back to me. She fingered the trigger, pushed some fake buttons, then reluctantly handed it back.

Later, I was standing near Darth Vader when a man with Down’s approached. He was probably in his early twenties. He stood in front of Vader, pointed at him, and loudly announced, “You are freaking awesome.” Then he turned to me and said, “So are you.”    Emotion overwhelmed me. Love for this man who could express himself with such clarity. Gratitude that I have four perfect, healthy children. Guilt that I don’t appreciate it every single day of their lives. Compassion for the mothers that weren’t so lucky, and respect that they have learned more about a mother’s love than I probably ever will. I started crying. My helmet hid my face, but my shaking shoulders were clearly visible. I pulled myself together.

The one incontrovertible truth that I can take away from this experience is this: after one cries, one must blow one’s nose. A helmet without nose access prohibits this. The results can be unpleasant. Needless to say, as soon as Ryan came to check on me, I made him take me to the car.

Once the nose situation was under control, I went back out into the fray. The organizers requested a picture of the costumed characters in front of their official banner. The garrison members were there in addition to the mascots of every local sports team – I ended up standing next to Barney and Baby Bop. It takes something like this to keep me humble – a reminder that in the eyes of the people in charge, I am just another head in a helmet. I could just as easily be Barney.

A man in his thirties, who looked exactly like the actor Billy Zane, and an older man, probably his father, stood on the other side of the field staring at me. The staring was so blatant that it would have made me uncomfortable if I didn’t know that they were staring at the armor and not the person in it. I wonder if they would have stared if they had known it was a woman wearing the costume.

I stood near the sidewalk and waved to the walkers as they finally left for their circuit around the block. It was like a reverse parade; I was the one standing still and the crowd moved past me. I waved and people waved back. I have to say I felt a little like a celebrity, so many fans and cameras and people pointing at me. Ryan feels a little let down when he takes his armor off and no one is looking at him anymore. I didn’t realize we had that attention-seeking streak in us, but it’s there.

I have no illusions that anything I did today changed anyone’s life. As far as charity work goes, this is feel-good charity, not practical, teach-a-man-to-fish charity. But feeling good has a value. Watching your favorite Star Wars characters walk off the movie screen and shake your hand, that’s pretty cool to a lot of people. Beyond that, though, was the chance to interact with people, with complete strangers, with the community. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in my own life and limit my interactions to my immediate family and 174 of my closest Facebook friends. I was at the park not only for myself, but for everyone else – and as a result, we all left a little happier. I call that a win-win.

Camping Day Three

2010-05-22T17:27:00.000-06:00

I've been working on schoolwork all week, which is why I haven't posted about the last day of our camping trip, and also why I'm still not posting about the last day of our camping trip. Suffice it to say, it was delightful, we drove home, no one threw up in the car, etc. I will, however, give you some pictures that I think you'll enjoy.

The day we were scheduled to go home, we made one last trip out to Goblin Valley, this time for a distinct purpose: so Ryan could dress up as a Stormtrooper and take pictures with the alien-planet-like background. It was his birthday, also it was the whole reason he was so supportive of going on this trip in the first place, so it had to get done.

Funny. I might update this with more photos later, but it's late and I need to go to bed. I got the important ones up, at any rate.

Camping, Day Two

2010-05-15T14:37:00.000-06:00

Morning is a surly time on the best of occasions, but when morning starts at 5:52, you know we're in for a special level of torture. Here's how I imagined morning on a campout being: crisp morning air, sun rising over the mountains, we're swinging on the porch swing, sipping hot chocolate while taking in the serene, calming beauty.

Here's how the morning really went: Up before the sun, hot chocolate getting dumped on the ground causing a Zack-level eruption, porch swing being used as ammo in a game of Whack-a-Brother, me shushing for an hour so neighbors (and spouses) can hopefully get a little more sleep, being told that my shushing is too loud, finally giving up and ordering Zack inside to watch Toy Story on the portable dvd player. Surrounded by natural beauty and all of God's wonders, and I still, STILL have to resort to plugging one of my kids in. This is an epic camping fail.

Although maybe I'm being too harsh. In all honesty, take out the outdoors part and the hot chocolate part and this is a typical hotel morning. Any morning that I have to deal with the kids at 5:52 a.m. is going to be lousy. Trying to keep kids quiet so other people can sleep is a documented cause of parental insanity. (Trust me, I know.) This problem isn't camping-specific - it's a symptom of traveling with children.

One problem that IS camping-specific, or more accurately, KOA-specific, are the cabin doors. The cabin is solid wood, floors, walls, ceilings, all of it. The doors have a locking mechanism that is vaguely reminiscent of the bars medieval castles used to close their doors to invaders. A handle on the outside pulls a rope that lifts the bar on the other side, allowing the door to be pushed open. Nifty, right? The only problem is that it is the loudest door-opening mechanism ever invented by man. The invention of the doorknob is what catapulted medieval man into the modern era. The wooden bar scrapes and clanks, the handle rattles, the door itself sticks and has to be forced open. We may as well attach a bell to it - no one is coming or going without waking the entire family.

An exchange taking place at, oh, 8:00 or so.

Noah: Are people still sleeping?

Me: Probably. I would be if I could.

Noah: Geez, people sleep for hours!

I don't want to sound completely negative, because overall we had a very nice day, but I have one more complaint: Google Maps. We've all had minor maps-related snafus - being directed to a dead end, going to a business address that no longer exists - a friend recently had to walk through a field to show up at the back door of the address she was looking for. That's the cost of convenience, I say. Well, I say wrong, apparently. Because today Google Maps failed on such a massive scale I wouldn't be surprised if this was a belated April Fool's Joke. From our campground in Green River, Google instructed us to take US-6 westbound, i.e. back toward home. So we did. For 45 minutes. The promised left-hand turn that would take us to Goblin Valley never appeared. And, naturally, neither did our cell service. We turned around and finally got a hold of the camp, asking for directions - we should have been on I-70 westbound. What should have been a 30 minute drive ended up being about two hours, which would make this a Mudgett-scale "shortcut." Fortunately, everyone handled it really well - no one freaked out, although we endured an extra 1.5 hours of "are we there yets" until I threatened to leave Noah on the side of the road and let him walk to Goblin Valley, see how long it takes you then, buddy.

(I was just kidding about that. I wouldn't actually make my kid get out of the car and walk. But it made him stop asking, finally.)

Goblin Valley itself is just too cool for words. I forgot to pack my USB adapter for my camera so authentic pictures are going to have to wait, but here's a picture I found online and I can attest, yup, it looks just like that in real life.

(Thanks for the image, Google, but you haven't made it up to me yet. I'm still sulking.)

The kids took off running and pretty much didn't stop for an hour. They climbed over and through these crazy rock formations. The sun was shining but there was a cool breeze - it couldn't have been more perfect weather. They slowed down and a couple started to get testy, so we hiked from that far rock wall in the picture back through the goblins to the parking lot for lunch. The kids were done at that point, even though we had only been there about 1.5 hours. We've learned not to push things, though - the extra hour we could have squeezed out of them would have come at a great price in whining. Not worth it. We'll go back tomorrow before we head home, though. Ryan brought his stormtrooper armor in order to take pictures with that alien planet-like background. That's going to be a spectacle. I'm salivating already.

The drive back to the camp was substantially shorter, thank goodness. Ryan stayed behind to take a nap but when it was apparent that no children would be joining him (*shakes her fist in anger*) I took them to a beach. All these years of people talking about Goblin Valley and no one mentioned that there's a beach in Green River? It was awesome! I no longer feel the need to drive to California this summer. The beach was situated at a bend in the river, deep into a canyon - the water was swiftly flowing in the middle but created mild wavelets on the shore. The shore was fine sand and there was no seaweed/decomposing fish smell from the ocean which is nice, but the water was freezing. Didn't stop them, though - the kids jumped right in. We stayed well past the point where Darcey was shivering and blue-lipped because they were having so much fun.

Brad's campfire prowess showed itself tonight when he lit the fire with a single match. We cooked hot dogs for dinner then shared s'mores with a family that used to live in our neighborhood who happened to be here. The kids are looking exhausted at 8:30 p.m. - I'm not far behind them. My fingers are crossed that we all make it through the night without nature calling. Curse that astronaut-stalker for ensuring that we can never wear diapers for convenience. (Ryan thinks that reference was too obscure- tell me if you agree and I'll take it out.)

One last thought for the night.

Zack: I'm so cold. I wish Jesus would come down and give me a coat. And I'd say, "Thank you, Jesus!"

Bug Count:

3 gnats orbiting my head at the playground

1 anonymous possible bug that fell out of a tree and hit Ryan on the head

Several more gnats attacking the laptop screen while Ryan and I watched Thursday's Survivor

1 spider on the door to our cabin that Ryan had to chase around in order to stomp on

Things I've Forgotten To Bring:

Pocket knife

Cold cereal (Did not forget the milk, bowls, spoon)

Garbage bags

Zack's coat

Chapstick

White-noise machine

USB cable

Camping, Day One

2010-05-14T16:52:00.000-06:00

We got a later start than I expected. Much later. I got home from school at 2:30, figured we'd pack and throw our stuff in the car and hit the open road by, say, 3:30. What I didn't count on was that packing for a campout requires roughly 200 more items than packing for a hotel trip. I consider myself something of a packing expert (for my family, at least.) I had trial packing runs before our trip to Europe. If anything, I tend to overpack rather than underpack. Not so this time. In fact, it is likely that I have dangerously underpacked, even though our minivan was so full it was bulging like a cartoon drawing of a stuffed minivan would be.

The problem with camping is that you need to pack a duplicate of every single useful item in your house including, but not limited to, furniture, bedding, kitchen appliances, and the entertainment center. Random items that aren't useful in regular life become essential. Take, for instance, matches. I use them six times a year, to light birthday candles. Our family could conceivably survive just fine on a single matchbook for the entire year. In contrast, Brad used a match for every man, woman, and child in Utah trying to light our campfire tonight.

The campfire, by the way, was a heroic moment for Brad. Considering the last time I was involved with campfire-making was when I went to Girl's Camp in 1992, we called upon our current Scouter to get our fire going. He built a nice stack of kindling and lit it, but it went out. The next match too. And on, I won't get into the tedious details here. At some point, he gave up, but I could see there were some decent embers underneath the whole thing. Using the elite campfire-making skills I learned watching Survivor, I blew on the pile of smoldering sticks. After about a minute of blowing, the whole stack exploded into flames! The kids started cheering and Brad went back to work, piling more wood in a careful array. I was so happy he could have his moment. If we could have, we would have put him on our shoulders and marched him around the campground, we were so proud of him.

I'm excited about the trip so far, but considering that it's 10:48 p.m. right now and three of the four kids are still awake (and complaining about the snoring of the fourth) I'm apprehensive. Bad sleep is never a good thing in our family. Here are some memorable moments so far:

What's your favorite thing so far?

Zack: Playing the wii.

Me: I meant camping.

Zack: Oh, then, the playground.

Noah walks out in pajama pants and no shirt. He is a younger version of Axl from "The Middle" - the teenage boy who wears just his boxers all day long. I said, "Noah, I told you to pack WARM pajamas." Noah, pointing to his pants: "These ARE warm."

Bug Count:

3 gnats orbiting my head at the playground

1 anonymous possible bug that fell out of a tree and hit Ryan on the head

Things I've Forgotten To Bring:

Pocket knife

Cold cereal (Did not forget the milk, bowls, spoon)

Garbage bags

Zack's coat

A-Camping We Will Go

2010-05-13T15:42:00.000-06:00

Ryan and I are taking the kids camping tomorrow. What's that sudden chill - oh, my goodness, hell has frozen over! If you've known my family for any length of time, you would know that we are not, as they say, "camping people." We are hotel people. Ryan and I can both safely blame our parents for this lack of ruggedness. My dad thought "roughing it" meant a hotel without cable. Ryan's parents never went camping either, plus he dropped out of Scouts well before overnighters were required. He pretty much loathes camping. The annual Fathers and Sons campout is always scheduled on the exact same weekend as Ryan's Whine-a-palooza. Funny how that is.

I've had this growing inclination over the last year or two to spend more time out in nature. Something about communing with beauty and simplicity and growing things has been working its way under my skin. Which is strange, given that I'm not a real big fan of being outside. In general, I'm not fond of: bugs, extreme heat, extreme cold, dirt, and campfire smoke. I'd prefer a clean, climate-controlled, bug-and-smoke free space to vacation in - a.k.a. a hotel.

So the fact that we're taking our kids camping - voluntarily, no less - is something of a wonder. A friend told me about a deal that the KOA campgrounds (I refuse to call them 'kampgrounds' like they do - purposeful misspelling makes me want to throw things.) Their (c)abins this weekend are buy one night, stay the next free. So we get the whole weekend away for about $100. You know me and a good deal - even if it means sacrificing bodily comfort, we're doing it.

Here are a few things I'm expecting to have to deal with this weekend:

-not having the right equipment, i.e. sleeping bags, camp stove, cooler

-sleeping/temperature issues

-not knowing how to build a fire

-waking up at the crack of dawn

-bugs, dirt, and campfire smoke (if we can get a fire lit, see above)

But I'm not one to back away from a challenge, no sir! I come from tough stock, Connecticut farmers who worked from sunup to sundown in blistering heat and freezing cold. Am I going to let some measly bugs and dirt stand in the way of connecting with nature? No! I'm going out there and I'm not coming back until I'm a tree-hugging, dirt-loving, dutch-oven-cooking, honest-to-goodness camper. If I had pioneer ancestors, I'd make them proud. This is going to be a great weekend!

(Plus they have free wifi at the (c)ampground so worst case scenario, I can order Domino's online. Or send an S.O.S. on Facebook. Wish us luck!)

Babies Don't Keep

2010-05-07T08:57:00.000-06:00

Darcey, at age 2-and-eleven/twelfths, is still sleeping in a crib. She is quite verbose now, which means that at 8:30 I hear, "Mom! Wake up! Get me out of here!" which always makes me chuckle. Today I picked her up and was rewarded with a rare moment of cuddling. She laid her head on my shoulder and I rocked her back and forth. Now, chances are she was just using the height advantage to survey the vast pink wasteland that is her bedroom floor, a suspicion that was confirmed when she got down and immediately used Minnie Mouse's head as a chalkboard eraser. But it doesn't take away that moment of pure, simple joy of holding my daughter.

I've been trying hard this week to notice the moments and appreciate them, those tiny snapshots of perfection that seem to be all older people remember when they think fondly back on their child-rearing days. It's been easier than I expected, but I attribute that to the absolutely wonderful week I've had, emotionally speaking. I have felt so even-keeled that I almost forget that I'm on a boat and there still could be rough seas ahead. (This good week brought to you by GlaxoSmithKline.) So I'm shutting my laptop more often when a kid is in the room with me, putting down the morning paper when Zack is getting ready for school, keeping the radio off when I'm driving the boys somewhere. Not all the time, of course, but a little more than before.

In my house growing up there was a needlepoint hung on the wall that had a picture of a mother rocking a baby and it said:

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait til tomorrow

For babies grow up, we've learned to our sorrow.

So quiet down cobwebs, and dust go to sleep,

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

As I held my last baby this morning, I was conscious of the fact that I can no longer hold her brothers the way I hold her. That part is over, and it soon will be with Darcey as well. Have I paid enough attention to the moments? Can I remember what each of their snuggly little bodies felt like? I catalog all of the failures and the crises and the wish-this-were-overs; my only hope is that when I'm an old lady my selective memory will cobble together a picture of all the moments of perfection and love and joy.

I believe I will. I believe that all of us mothers that are in the crucible of child-rearing are doing better than we think. I believe that our kids see through the mistakes and the frustrations and know that they are loved, and that at the end of the day, that's what counts. Not how clean our house is, or how much they enjoyed our dinners, or how much baby weight we still carry. When Brad brings me home my daily flower he's picked off the blossoming trees, it's not to thank me for helping him with his homework. When Noah gives me spontaneous hugs, it's not because I always know where he left his baseball glove. We judge ourselves so much about what we do as mothers, but fail to realize that all that matters to our kids is that we love them. That is what we are as mothers - we are love personified.

So as Mother's Day comes up, that most loved and loathed holiday, let yourself off the hook for all of the things you don't do. Take a small step towards appreciating the moments more. And if you'll indulge me, here's a modern woman's needlepoint:

T.V. and iPods can wait til tomorrow

For babies grow up, we've learned to our sorrow.

So quiet down Facebook, phone go to sleep,

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.

Lasik: A Follow-Up (or, I can see clearly now, the glasses are gone)

2010-05-04T14:31:00.000-06:00

*Warning - this post is not for the squeamish. Like me. But I survived, and chances are you will too.*

*But don't say I didn't warn you.*

I am 24 hours out from yesterday's Lasik surgery, and I am on top of the world. Here's a rundown of the last day.

The surgery itself was billed as essentially painless, and it was. Mostly. I wasn't nervous until I was about to be led, bootied and hairnetted, into the surgery room itself. Then I was glad I had been given a valium to take the edge off my nerves. (Really it just made me sleepy, but I definitely did not get as worked up as I do when a dentist is scraping me with some medieval torture device. Maybe I should start taking valium at the dentist.)

I lay on the table underneath the first laser, which cut a flap in my corneas. This was the worst part. The doctor put a ring into my eye to hold open my eyelids, then he pressed it down to create suction. Ick. The laser did its thing, which I can't even describe because I was too busy thinking there's a thing on my eyeball! to focus on the details. The doctor put extra numbing drops in my left eye and it was less uncomfortable, except that there is still something on my eyeball! The creepy factor never goes away, not completely.

Flaps cut, I was moved to a waiting area for 20 minutes or so. This was the best part. I sat in this massage chair that was, to put it simply, phenomenal. I almost got out and made Ryan sit there, to show him how amazing it was, but then again, I was the patient here. How weird would it look if the nurse came back and Ryan was lounging in the massage chair while my flappy corneas and I looked on from the hard wooden chair nearby? So really, I stayed in the chair out of propriety. The chair thumped and rubbed and rolled and squeezed and vibrated and pounded my body until I had to wonder just how much of this I could take and still stand up, considering the valium. At one point, the headrest lifted so that a different roller could concentrate on my neck, and if the massage chair salesman had been standing there, I would have signed on the dotted line. When the nurse got me, about five minutes after the massaging stopped, or just long enough for my bones to coalesce, I said, "You guys ought to have a side business selling these chairs, you'd make a mint!" Either she didn't hear me or she'd heard that quip from every doped up massage-ee to pass through and chose to ignore it. Whatever.

After my visit to the massaging wonderland, they brought me back in for another round with the laser. This one did the actual reshaping of my cornea. First, though, the flap had to be peeled off. This is as disgusting as it sounds, although at the time all I was aware of was some tugging that made my vision completely whack out. I was telling my eye to focus on the light above me, but my eye, instead of obeying me, was off looking at the corner instead. Come to find out (when I watched the way-too-vivid dvd of my surgery for Family Home Evening afterward) that the doctor was, in fact, yanking my eyeball in order to pry open the flap.

I think watching the dvd might have been more emotionally scarring than the actual surgery. Here, you watch it.

This one is the flap-cutting ceremony.

And here's the other half, the actual cornea-reshaping.

Gross, huh? Add to these lovely visuals the smell of burning flesh and you'll understand why this was much more an emotional trial than a physical one. The amazing thing was that when I sat up from under the laser, I looked out the window into the viewing room and saw Ryan - and by that I mean, I SAW Ryan. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, to be able to see Ryan so clearly with just my regular eyes felt miraculous. And yes, I cried. Just a little. Then I spent the next five minutes pointing to all the things I could read. I love it.

Other than a burning feeling that lasted for about an hour, I had pretty much no pain. Some dryness, but that's about it. My vision was foggy at first, but now it's totally clear and the doctor today said my vision is 20/20. Considering glasses could only correct me to 20/25, I call this a win.

So my plans for the future? Go swimming. Put eye makeup on without having to be so close to the mirror I'm fogging it up with my breath. Have the world's largest collection of sunglasses. And I'm totally serious about that - I plan to buy the biggest, tackiest, most outrageous sunglasses I can find and wear them everywhere. After years of wearing stupid clip-on sunglasses like an old fogey or foregoing them altogether, I cannot wait to wear sunglasses. But mostly, I'm just happy to see. Life is amazing today.

A Farewell to Four-Eyes

2010-05-03T03:00:00.000-06:00

I'm doing it. I'm finally getting Lasik. By the time you read this, I'll be laying on a table with my eyelids taped open, being forced to stare at a light on the ceiling while a laser slices off my cornea. While this sounds like a scene from a James Bond film, or possibly the latest torture cooked up by the guys at Gitmo, in fact, I am paying big bucks for this kind of treatment. We'll find out in a day or so if it's worth it.

I've had a love/hate relationship with my glasses. Okay, it's more like hate/hate with a dash of well, at least I'm not blind thrown in. I got my first pair of glasses in third grade. I was eight, and that same year I also got braces, the kind of double-whammy of ugliness whose sole purpose is to "build character." I don't remember having that "Look! I can see the leaves on the trees!" kind of experience when I first got glasses. In fact, I remember quite clearly leaving them on the windowsill many mornings, causing my teacher to scold me and move me to the front of the classroom. Apparently I didn't think I was missing much without my glasses.

My glasses didn't have a huge emotional impact on me at the time. Their effects grew as I got older and kids got meaner. In elementary school, I was bursting with self-confidence: to illustrate, in fifth grade I determined (through what evidence I have no idea) that I was the third most popular girl in my class, after Alicia and Nicole. Alicia moved, though, and I got bumped to the number two spot. If we hadn't moved to Eldersburg at the end of the year, who knows how popular I would have been? I was on the fast track to popularity. I could have been somebody! I could have been a contender!

But we did move, and my glasses were a prominent part of the instant judgment passed by my new classmates on my first day of school. As stereotypes go, glasses=smart is not a horribly painful one, but since smart=nerd=dork=victim, you can imagine it wasn't the ideal stereotype heading into middle school. Oh, and middle school was brutal. Not all of it, but the bus rides, oh the bus rides. Why on earth would any adult think its a good idea to cram sixty kids into a bus with no supervision other than the driver who could never possibly see what's going on in the way back where the scary kids sat? To this day, I prefer to sit up front, near the driver, out of sheer self-preservation.

The glasses-as-target trend faded in high school, for the most part, with a few rather painful exceptions that I thought about disclosing here but won't because, really, they still hurt. Glasses-as-smart was something I have (rather obviously) internalized. Being considered "smart" is such a key part of my identity - would that be true if it hadn't been for the 4.0 assumptions made about me in school? (Which, for the record, I never had, nor did I ever provide my father with his oft-dreamed about "My child is on the honor roll at Liberty High School" bumper sticker.)

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. If that's true, then glasses are the sheer curtains people put up for privacy. Honestly, there is something about glasses that shrank me, made me withdraw behind the protective plexiglass shield in front of my eyes. I was always aware of them, always self-conscious and, to be blunt, convinced I was unattractive because I wore glasses. Well, maybe less attractive is a better way to state it. I know exactly how much my glasses held me back in high school because after I graduated and moved to California, I bought contact lenses and my world changed. Not only did I see the world differently (three cheers for peripheral vision!) but I found this well of confidence that I didn't know had been dry all these years. I changed the way I looked on the outside, but the real change happened inside.

Fast forward nine years to 2003. We had moved to Utah, I had two kids and a horrible case of dry eyes from the desert air. I abandoned the contacts for glasses again, and at the time it didn't seem like too big a deal. I was tired of the routine and the work involved in contacts, and since I had already used my feminine wiles to secure a husband, contacts no longer seemed as vital to my self-esteem. I've been back in glasses for seven years and can barely remember what it was like to be glasses-less anymore. Ryan has been suggesting Lasik for years now, ever since he got bait-and-switched, but I've been reluctant. First, I had to wait until I was done having kids, because what's the point of fixing my vision only to have pregnancy screw it up again? Then, it was fear, because nothing says "bad idea" like "slicing open your cornea." The thought of whatever they're going to do to keep my eyelids open is enough to get my stomach churning. (I'm picturing tape, Ryan's picturing toothpicks thanks to a Tom and Jerry cartoon.) I've reached the point where the perceived benefits outweigh the fear, and that is why I am going under the knife, er, laser today.

I don't know what my reaction is going to be when I'm done with the surgery. Will I cry with joy? Will I undergo another reinvention of my self-image? Will it even work? (I have very thin corneas, the only part of me that is too thin, of course.) I don't know. I know this, though - I won't miss my glasses, not even for one single second.

Self Assessment

2010-04-29T05:54:00.000-06:00

When I started this creative writing class in January, I was very timid about writing. I had been writing a blog for three years, but in my mind this did not make me a “writer.” Any old lump can write a blog, I thought, so something else has to be different to make me a “writer.”

Over the course of the semester, the most important thing I gained was confidence. Yes, I learned a lot of principles that I applied to my writing to make them better. I tried different genres and writing styles and learned what I like and what I don’t. But what I feel was crucial to my growth in this class was learning that a person who writes is a writer. I learned that writing should be shared and not hidden out of fear of what other people might say. I learned what it feels like to write something good – not just good, but good, something I know deep down is worth reading – and I know what it feels like to write something merely sufficient, something that meets the requirements and is, at best, not too embarrassing. I learned that I no longer have to worry about someone reading a piece and telling me I have no future in writing. I do. I may not be there yet, but I will be someday.

So, what grade do I think I deserve? I’m going to say I deserve an A. I think I’ve turned in A-quality work from the very beginning. I’ve attended class, read the book, done the assignments, participated, etc. I don’t need an A, though, for reassurance or approval or an ego boost or any of the other reasons I like A’s so much. I deserve an A because when I filled out a form at the eye doctor yesterday, under “Profession” I put “writer.”

The iPad Debate

2010-04-27T02:00:00.000-06:00

An inquiring reader sent me a question today, and just in case others were wondering the same thing, I thought I'd ruminate publicly. The reader (let's just call him "my dad" for the sake of convenience) asked me, "Do you have any opinions about the Ipad? I was reading a review of it and it appears that it has to be recharged with a wall outlet, not by plugging it into a usb outlet. Other than that it looks like a winner! Your opinion?"

Do I have an opinion? Does Milli Vanilli lip-sync? I think the more accurate question is, "Is there anything I don't have an opinion about?"

First of all, yeah, it looks so cool. I totally want one. I love my ipod touch. I wish it was an iphone, mostly because I want to be able to look stuff up while I'm in the car and I can't without wi-fi. But I'm too cheap to spend money on a cell phone contract just to be able to update my FB status: "OMGosh! Can you believe the traffic on I-15?!" So the question for me is, what can I not do with my ipod touch that the ipad can do?

Well, I'd want it to have a full size keyboard. I want to be able to seriously type stuff anywhere I go, not this crazy hunt-and-peck routine I do now. God gave us ten fingers for a reason. But then I heard that they're going to sell a bluetooth keyboard - that would be good enough for me! Also, I wish I could read books on my ipod. I could I suppose, if I was seriously into scrolling, which I'm not. But $600 is way too much for an e-book reader, even one that plays videos and stuff.

What exactly is the ipad supposed to be replacing? It's too big to replace my ipod, and not functional enough to replace my laptop. It would replace my theoretical e-book reader, if I had one, but since I don't, I guess it might replace some actual books. What it'd really be is a third Apple product that I'd feel obligated to take with me on vacation.

Here's my opinion on the ipad - the next two years are going to be really interesting. I think the ipad is probably going to be great. Right now it's only great for the early adopters, the rest of us regular people will wait for ipad 2.0 or whatever, when all the kinks are worked out and it costs 1/2 as much with 2x as much cool stuff on it. My real struggle is that I think I want a kindle or a nook or some other e-reader type device with a made-up sounding name, but now is NOT the time to buy something like this. The ipad (in my opinion, at least) is going to spur some serious creativity and price-slashing in the whole e-book arena. By 2012, I think the whole issue will have been decided. (Although, since the world is supposed to be ending that year, it might be a moot point. In which case, spend the $600! You won't need to leave it to your kids, right?)

So this is what I'd tell "my dad." I have a feeling you're the type of guy that has plenty of discretionary income to be spent on random electronic gadgets. Plus, I think you've already decided you want to buy an iPad, but are looking for confirmation that it is not just a whim that you have to defend to your wife (a.k.a. "my mom") but is in actuality a life-changing device on the order of a pace maker or the Apollo program and how could you not invest in that? My advice? Buy an iPad and a Nook. See which one you like better. Then send the loser to some deserving family member, we'll call her "your only daughter," who has an equal love of electronic gadgets but who is sadly lacking in the discretionary income department. And who named one of her children after you.

Readers, got any questions? Want to hear an opinion about, well, just about anything? I'm happy to oblige, just drop me a line.

Rules For The Aerobically-Challenged

2010-04-26T02:00:00.000-06:00

First rule: Choose wisely.

You’re thinking about taking one of those trendy dance aerobics classes that combine latin, salsa, and hip-hop moves with high-intensity dance music. That’s fine, but don’t be fooled into thinking that “dancing” makes aerobics “less work.” It is not only not less work, it is probably more work. Watching “Dancing With The Stars” might have taught you the difference between the cha-cha and the tango, but unless you have some actual dance training, these are not moves that come naturally to your body.

Second rule: Location, location, location.

You can't just stand wherever there's an open space; the place you stand affects the entire class. You don't want to be at the front, because then everyone behind you can see you mess up constantly. You don't want to be at the back, because then it's your fanny that the people on the treadmills are watching through the glass wall. You don't want to be on the extreme sides, either, because when you do moves that turn you around, you will all of a sudden have no one to watch. The best place to stand? At home. Or in the locker room. Or under an invisibility cloak, although that might trip you up a little.

Third rule: Don’t hold back.

Nothing makes up for a complete lack of skill like bounding enthusiasm. Do the moves with reckless abandon, with a great big smile on your face. People can't judge you nearly as harshly if they think you are either a) enjoying yourself or b) too dim to know you're doing it wrong.

Fourth rule, and this one's important: Don't look in the mirror!

Don't even glance! So what if you feel like the tutu-wearing hippo in Fantasia? You are as graceful as Ginger Rogers, as sultry as Shakira. Don't let anything crack that facade. It's the only thing keeping you going, that pretense of not looking like a complete idiot. Under no circumstances should you let reality invade that beautiful mental picture!

Fifth rule: You’re not alone.

If your ego needs a boost, look at someone worse than you. Surely you're not the only one in the class who is struggling, right? Avert your eyes from the cute skinny blondes who seem to know the moves intuitively. Ignore the pregnant women in the back whose fetuses are probably more coordinated than you. Focus instead on the woman on the left with the red face, who keeps turning the wrong direction and looks like she's doing jumping jacks while everyone else is doing the mambo. Yes, that woman, who keeps stepping on her own feet and just whacked herself in the face with her arm. At least she looks like she's having fun, she's got such a big smile on her face... Wait a second, that's YOU!! I said DON'T look in the mirror!!!

Sixth rule: Banish any jiggling from your consciousness.

Just because your thighs and butt are as wiggly as a plate of Jell-o, doesn't mean you need to dwell on that. It will bring you nothing but pain, my friend. That’s the purpose of the tight clothes everyone wears, to keep all of your excess flab in one place. It’s much easier to exercise if you know your butt isn't a half-step behind the rest of your body. But until you have rock hard abs, keep any thoughts of how you would make a great female Santa (shakes when she exercises like a bowl full of jelly), out of your mind.

Seventh rule: Don't give up.

So what if you looked like a complete moron the entire hour? That the instructor directed some pointed encouragement your way and the treadmill runners thanked you for the great entertainment? You lasted the whole hour! You sweated and huffed and wheezed your way through 60 minutes of seriously intense aerobics! At the end of the day, your body doesn't know how embarrassed it should be at your lack of finesse, all your body knows is that you burned some major calories. That’s great, so long as you don't drown your humiliation in a pint of Haagen Dazs. And if you can follow these simple rules, you too can join the ranks of the aerobically-inclined.

This post was originally written in September 2008, but I rewrote it for class this semester and thought I'd share the polished version. You can read the old cruddy one here, but why would you?

The Blog I Wished I Had Written

2010-04-24T11:34:00.000-06:00

I've long tried to encapsulate the unique stress of being a mother, particularly a Mormon mother and the attendant "be ye therefore perfect" expectations. Today I read an essay at Segullah that was so exactly right, I wish I had written it. If you are looking for something worth reading, click here. And then come back and we can discuss.

The Problem With Brains

2010-04-22T02:00:00.000-06:00

I had a weird dream the other night. I dreamt that I went back to high school (yes, at 33, as if going back to college as an adult isn't embarrassing enough). My friend Sara was there and she told me all about her life, how she had two kids with a mutual friend of ours but he wasn't ready to commit. She was madly in love and kept waiting for him to figure things out. I woke up the moment I realized that I had to tell her that he was already married.

These blast-from-the-past dreams are so bizarre, pulling random people and events out of a hat and throwing them together like some kind of plot generator for soap opera writers. I mean, these are people I haven't talked to in 16 years, other than the occasional "lol" on a Facebook post. My question is this: How can the brain assimilate all of this random information and combine it in such a way that it makes total logical sense (at least until you wake up and try to recount the story to someone over breakfast)? Does it not make you wonder what other information we take in that makes absolutely no sense, yet our brain turns it into logic? Frankly, I feel like I'm handing atheists the perfect argument - so much of religion consists of believing slightly outrageous things. The philosopher Kierkegaard (as opposed to the rock band Kierkegaard, I suppose - why did I think that needed a qualifier? How many Kierkegaards can there be?), he said that in order to reconcile the paradoxes in Christianity, a person would have to make a leap of faith. The brain is completely capable of accepting these paradoxes, and I think it's a good thing - my life is better because I am able to believe in the existence of God, for example, and various other faith-based things.

However, the brain completely lets us down when it comes to other paradoxes it believes. A person can ignore vast amounts of proof and instead latch onto one idea that resonates with what they already believe. Standing by yourself in a crowded room (on a bad day), it's easy to agree with the idea "I have no friends," despite proof to the contrary. And we've all seen the havoc caused by the completely illogical belief that "I deserve to be the next American Idol." Some irrational thoughts work and some are destructive, but the brain seems to welcome them all.

So after I woke up, I left a note on Sara's Facebook wall, telling her about this dream I had. And this spawned my other weird-dream-related thought: what, exactly, is the correct response when someone tells you they dreamed about you? Because you know what? It's pretty creepy, when you think about it. It feels like my brain is stalking people without my permission. Keeping track of their habits, filing them away until some unsuspecting night when, without warning, my brain attacks. Fortunately, both of the objects of my brain's obsession thought the dream was pretty funny. Or if not actually funny, then at least mildly amusing and, also, harmless. And that's good enough for me. Can you imagine how hard it would be to file a restraining order against someone's brain? Seriously, that thing cannot be controlled all the time.

Brains. What are you going to do? You can't live with them, and you really, really can't live without them.

The World's Best Peanut Butter Cookies

2010-04-21T09:04:00.000-06:00

I know declaring anything to be "the world's best" is the quickest way to invite dissent, but I have to say, I adore these cookies. And I've eaten my share of peanut butter cookies, too. So until there's a Miss Peanut Butter Cookie pageant where all the peanut butter cookies can be judged (and not just on their looks, either - it's what's inside that counts) I'm just going to go ahead and claim this title.

2 cups creamy peanut butter

2 cups sugar

2 large eggs

2 teaspoons baking soda

A pinch of salt

1 teaspoon vanilla

Preheat the oven to 350*. Beat the peanut butter and sugar in a medium bowl with an electric mixer until fluffy. Beat in the eggs and then the baking soda, salt, and vanilla.

Roll the dough into 1-inch balls; place them 2 inches apart on a cookie sheet. Use a fork to flatten cookies (honestly, they aren't peanut butter cookies unless they've been cross-hatched, I don't know why.)

Bake the cookies, one sheet at a time, in the middle of the oven for 10 minutes, or until they're puffy and golden brown. Let them sit on the cookie sheet for a couple of minutes, then transfer them to a wire rack to cool. Makes 3 to 4 dozen cookies.

Taken from "One Bite Won't Kill You" by Ann Hodgman. Find it here on Amazon.

It's Moving Day!

2010-04-20T08:33:00.000-06:00

I've moved my blog to my brand-spanking-new website: www.thingsworthreading.com. Until I get the redirect page here, I thought I'd just let you know to come on over and visit the new site. I've got new posts up already, you don't want to miss it! Also, I've got a FB page for Things Worth Reading http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#!/pages/Things-Worth-Reading/112705228760632

I hope that link works. See you on the other side!!

-Emily

Danger, Will Robinson!

2010-04-20T02:00:00.000-06:00

So, yesterday as I was working on the finishing touches of my new blog, I ran across this article in the Daily Herald. Apparently, there are some women who take it upon themselves to attack so-called "mommy bloggers" who choose to display motherhood in a less-than-flattering light. Who celebrate time without the kids and fear the start of summer vacation. Who admit to being frustrated and tired and (gasp!) a little burned-out. In other words, people exactly like me.

Yikes. Have I perhaps chosen the wrong time to get in the mommy-blogging business?

I've only had to deal with this kind of attack once before. I commiserated with a friend who was completely losing it with her kids, and the person who replied after me said something like, "What if your kid read this? You sound like you don't like your kids." Ohhh, did I feel awful. And then I felt extremely irritated - good for you if your kids are so delightful or your personality is so easygoing that parenting is nothing but a picnic without the ants. Not all of us are that lucky. And then I felt guilt, because of course I would be mortified if my kids saw the things I wrote and believed that meant I didn't like them.

I vacillated through emotions for about an hour, before finally reading a reply from the original poster. She told the judgmental-person/truth-teller (whichever you believe she was) to wait until she grew up and had kids, then she could talk. Whew! I wasn't being judged by another mother, I was being judged by a teenager! Which meant, in my mind, I could continue on my merry way without looking back.

I haven't forgotten it, though. I do wonder how much my kids observe from my attitudes, behaviors, and yes, the things I say. You know, that's where these internet-attackers lose ground - they might see what a person writes in the heat of the moment, but they don't see the rest of it. You might know when my kids are one whine away from sending me to the loony bin, but you might not know that I spent an hour on the couch cuddling and watching tv with them. Or playing Super Mario Bros. Or apologizing profusely and telling them just how much I love them. I promise, I do those things way, way more often than I write about. It just isn't as fun a story to tell.

Why do women insist on judging other women? Does it make us feel better about ourselves when we bring someone else down? The honest truth is that parenting is hard. Some people handle it better than others. No matter which side of the equation you're on - whether you are better or worse at parenting - we should all be able to reach out to each other and be supportive, not attacking. They say it takes a village to raise a child - they didn't mean Salem.

By the way, I think you're doing a fantastic job with your kids. See, didn't that feel good?

What A Glorious Weekend!

2010-04-17T14:56:00.000-06:00

I'm writing this from my living room couch. Surrounding me is a plate of cold pizza, an empty Diet Dr. Pepper, newspapers, notebooks, regular books, a pen, a bottle of nail polish, and the cordless phone. The thought that occurs to me is, "So this is what my life would look like if I lived alone."

The family is scattered around Utah this weekend. Ryan took Noah and Zack down to St. George to attend a couple of Star Wars events. Brad is at Conclave, a Boy Scout Order of the Arrow campout. Except they aren't camping, they're staying in a building (or, if they're lucky, a teepee) so I don't know what to call it. A retreat sounds too girly considering one of the classes being offered is "Brain Tanning" - how to tan hides with animal brains. I didn't even know that was legal.

Which leaves me and Darcey, the last remaining settlers at Fort Simmons. And I have to say, it has been delightful. Once I realized Darcey can change videos in the VCR, my weekend was set. No, no, just kidding. Even without the tv, Darcey is fairly low-maintenance. We went to the park today and spent time in the front yard playing with friends. She was great to run some errands with me (it was her that chose the pizza - I was aiming for a mexican drive-thru, the only drive-thru in town that sells fried ice cream.) Plus, she goes to bed nice and early. I've been able to get a ton of writing done while she played. It's been delightful.

The best part about this is the complete and total lack of guilt. While I firmly believe that mothers especially need to get some alone time on a regular basis, I will be the first to admit that the alone-ness comes with a price. Either I feel like I'm neglecting my kids or I'm neglecting my husband, or I'm neglecting my kids while burdening my husband (a double-whammy). Even when Ryan is completely supportive (i.e. handing me my keys and my shoes and gently, but lovingly, pushing me out the door before I lose my mind altogether) I feel bad. It doesn't stop me from going out, because I do need it. But it's always there, tainting my solitude. Well, not this time. This whole weekend was Ryan's idea, so I am off scot-free in the guilt department.

I've made my weekend a combination of productive and relaxing. While at the park, I gave Darcey her first lesson in swing-pumping. She needs to learn this one early - her two little girlfriends are both potty-trained and Darcey still has no concept of what I am expecting her to put in the potty every time she sits on it. I figure if we can get swinging down first, then it'll balance things out. I'm totally not one of those mothers who compares her child against other children, as long as Darcey is ahead.

So there you have it. The perfect recipe for a relaxing mom-weekend at home - one low-maintenance kid, beautiful weather, stuff to do (but not too much), and no guilt at all. Ahhhhhh....life is good. And don't worry, I'll clean all this up before you get home, Ryan.

Division of Labor

2010-04-14T10:34:00.001-06:00

Right now I'm supposedly working on my latest project, building myself a new website! I'll be moving my blog over there, plus adding some new sections for book reviews and other stuff. Eventually my goal is to take my favorite blog entries, revise the crap out of them (literally), and assemble them into a book, which will, of course, be available to purchase on my website. It's all in an effort to build a "platform" - an online presence that will magically make publishers etc take me seriously as a writer. It's all the rage nowadays; I don't know if you're even allowed to publish a book without an accompanying blog/newsletter/message board/Twitter feed. And you know me - any bandwagon that passes too close, I've just got to jump on.

So, if I'm thisclose to having the perfect website that will not only propel me to fame and stardom but quite possibly also usher in Web 3.0, whatever that is, why I am over here, blogging? It's simple, actually - as it turns out, I absolutely stink at building websites.

Yes, it's true. Jane-of-all-trades I am not. The logistical part of website creation isn't so bad - I bought a domain name, set everything up with a webhost, installed Wordpress - and that's as far as I got. Because everything after that is all the pretty stuff. What should the header look like? What color scheme do I use? How about matching fonts? Not to mention layout, background images, widgets, templates, and on and on and on. Wordpress tries to make this easier by allowing developers to create "themes" - they do all the color picking and laying out and all that stuff, you just pop it in and add content. The problem is, there are about 7 gazillion different themes out there, and I swear I have looked at every single one. I started with an idea in mind of how I wanted my website to look, but after staring at theme after theme after theme, I stopped actually caring what it looked like. I grabbed the next one I came across, slapped it up there, and started writing stuff.

The problem is, I now have what is arguably the most boring website on the planet. Seriously. It is gray and blue and has absolutely zero personality. I'd show you, but one of the (many) articles I read about website design told me that the design of the website determines if people are willing to stick around and read the content. Frankly, I'm not willing to risk driving you all away, sending you running into the arms of a blogger with a better eye for color.

Fortunately, there is someone out there with a better eye for color, and I happened to be married to him. This is where "opposites attract" plays out quite nicely - the only thing that interests Ryan in putting together a website is the way it looks - I only care about what it says. We did the same thing with the kitchen remodel - he picked the asthetics, I did the functionality. I created a "favicon" this morning - the 16x16 pixel image that represents the website in your browser - and it took me two hours. TWO HOURS!! The thing is so small it requires basically no detail. I could have slapped a single letter in a plain white box and called it good, but noooo... I had to fiddle and play and scrap things and start over for two whole hours. And that is what drove me here, to my blog, to spend a few minutes doing something that I'm good at.

So, yes, I'd rather write about building a website rather than actually building the website. That's probably how it should be. I'll be drawing a picture of what I want my website to look like and handing over to the master later today. And as soon as I know the site won't put you in a boredom-induced coma, I'll let you see it.