Gratitude and scave

I read and really loved the book Room by Emma Donaghue (I'll tell you more about it later in a book post).  One bit of it shone from the page and I snapped a picture of it so I could remember.  (So much easier than finding pen and paper to copy it down.)

My heart is heavy watching news reports about the terrorist attacks in Paris.  The news showed one person after another declaring they were going to forge on.  They weren't going to let terrorists curtail their lives.

They are scave.

And I admire them.

My reaction is to want to blow up the world and get all the bad people and Adam kindly and patiently tells me why that's a bad idea.

Sometimes life just feels heavy and dark.  When my children are struggling (or on the other side of the country), when the world is a violent and confused place, when sleep is illusive, I start to feel a little downcast.

Gratitude is always a good antidote to gloom though.  I love Thanksgiving for the reminder it gives me to be grateful.

I am thankful for light in the darkness, light in all its wonderful forms.

I'm thankful for snow falling on sagebrush out my window yesterday morning.

The snow was lovely and kindly made everything soft looking but also didn't build up on the roads.  They were just wet.

I'm grateful for good food and good music and a good husband (who convinces me not to blow up the world).  I'm grateful for the hope and light the gospel of Jesus Christ brings to my life.  I'm grateful for the transformative way baking bread changes a house to a home.

And I'm grateful my mom taught me how to make bread.

Things I love about Emma

1- Friday lunch.  We have started a new tradition.  She comes home for lunch on Friday and we chat.  It's just simple but I love having her all to myself for about an hour.

2- Her resilience.  Her voice is broken.  We don't know why.  We have a doctor appointment today and hope to get some answers.  Because of that, her musical audition was a bust.  It was devastating and then she talked to the director and he asked her to be assistant director, which thrilled her.  Resilience is one of the traits I want for my children...because life can be rocky.

3- Her amazing work ethic.  As the assistant director, she works very hard and is 100% reliable.  The other day I saw an email she sent the director--at 5:39 AM.  She was asking about a mistake she saw on the schedule.  And she was right.

4-She is almost always right.

5-Her writing.  She writes Braeden every night and then sends it to him every week.  I may or may not sneak into her room occasionally to read what she is writing.  (She leaves it right on her dresser, I don't think she minds.) It always makes my day.

6-When Emma wants something to happen, it usually does.  She got in her head that she wanted to make gumbo and beignets and mint juleps.  We had an exhaustive grocery store trip Saturday looking for all the sundry ingredients.  Just FYI, filé powder is not easy to find.  And just try to convince Emma she doesn't need it.  We had a lovely Sunday New Orleans inspired dinner though.

All of these are good reminders because also Saturday, we discovered a big scrape on the side of Emma's car where she misjudged the distance pulling into a parking spot.

Her driving may leave something to be desired, but I do love that girl.

A lovely note

Yesterday when Adam left for work, I told him that when he got home, I would be done transforming the school room into my office/project/whatever room.

I mostly was.  It still looks a little out of sorts, but that's only because Christmas preparations exploded in there.

Turns out reworking an entire room takes time. (So. Much. Time.)  It took time to figure out how to make the room the most useful and to go through every single container and box and envelope and file folder to figure out what exactly I have.

(Exactly what I have is a lot of stuff.)

I found something from a few years ago.  Braeden had left it lying around (it's wrinkled because Braeden's about as careful as a puppy) and back then I picked it up and read it and put it away for safe keeping.

These are the kinds of things that are treasures to a mother's heart.

It's from one of his directors at GPHS and it will stay in safekeeping forever, because I love every word.

Wonderful people in the world that build up and encourage and teach your children are maybe the best thing that a mother could ask for.  That, and don't put your clean laundry that is folded into the dirty laundry.

Ammon, we need to talk

I spend my days mostly alone and when there's nothing interesting on the radio while I'm driving around doing my errands, I think deep thoughts.  Things like grouping my siblings.

We just fall into groups of three on a lot of issues:

Girls	Boys
Marianne	Enoch
Thelma	Tabor
Olivia	Ammon
Blue Eyed/Right Handed	Brown-Hazel Eyed/Left Handed
Marianne	Thelma
Enoch	Olivia
Tabor	Ammon
Would rather be left alone	Sign me up!
Thelma	Marianne
Tabor	Olivia
Ammon	Enoch
Technologically Impaired	At least as smart as their phone
Marianne	Thelma (I’m only here because of Adam)
Olivia	Enoch
Tabor	Ammon

Then, my categorizing started to break down.  I realized, with alarm, that I don't know where Ammon fits on any of the following!  Worst sister award goes to me. 

 

Like soda	Never drink it
Thelma	Marianne
Enoch	Olivia
Tabor
Definitely need sleep.  Definitely.	Can live on very little sleep
Marianne	Olivia
Thelma	Enoch
Tabor
Neurotic planner	Fly by the seat of their pants
Marianne	Enoch
Thelma	Tabor
Olivia

So then I came up with a new list:

Like to talk about themselves	It’s not always about him
Marianne	Ammon
Thelma
Olivia
Enoch
Tabor

Maybe since we live ten minutes away from each other I can pin him down on some of these pressing issues some day soon.

Here's one last category I thought of:

Can reach the top shelf	Can’t reach the top shelf
Marianne	Thelma
Olivia
Enoch
Tabor
Ammon

They are all a lot taller than I am, but look at what a good list maker I am!

Weighing in

If you are reading this blog then you have a computer and you've probably heard about the kerfuffle (isn't that a good word?) of late about the new policy the LDS church has regarding the children of same sex couples.

I've seen some anguish online and a fair bit of ugliness too.  I've seen downright anger.

A few years ago, I heard a dad say that when dads get angry, it's usually because they are scared.  I think there's a lot of truth to that.  (For example, the angriest I've ever seen Adam is when Braeden almost killed us while learning to drive on the freeway.  Good times....)

The anger that crops up on Facebook probably has its root in fear too.  People are afraid they are being judged or misunderstood or disenfranchised.  Or, the scariest of all, maybe they're afraid because the church they've been a member of isn't sitting quite right in their mind.

I know from personal experience that is a scary feeling.

There have been times over the years that I have had questions about different church doctrines.  It is unsettling.  One time in particular that I am thinking of, I remember I talked to my parents and my sisters and my closest friends and of course Adam and when I was finally all talked out, I decided that in the balance, what I knew outweighed what I didn't know.  I resolved to accept that some things were just hard for me to understand, and I'd move on.

Does this seem like foolish and blind obedience?  Maybe to some.  To me it was the most logical course of action.

My modus operandi to get through tough times is to back up.  I go back to what I know and it almost always helps.

For example, when Marianne and I were in high school and we crashed in a snowdrift in the middle of the night and I was freaking out because we were hopelessly stuck, she suggested we pray.  We did and it settled me down a little.  Praying helps.  Then she backed up to what we knew.  We knew that we had called our parents before leaving town.  We knew that our parents set an alarm for the time they expected us home. (Did they this time?  We didn't know for sure, but we really hoped.)  We didn't know, but trusted, that my dad would head out to look for us with a shovel.

It comforted me to remember what I knew and what I trusted in.

And yep, my dad showed up with a shovel.

Another time, several years ago, I was confronted with something I did not understand.  It didn't seem right.  It seemed askew with what I knew about the nature of God and the Atonement.  I felt confused and sad and maybe even alarmed.

I backed up to what I knew.  I prayed and felt the love of Heavenly Father, more so than I ever have when praying.  I didn't have an answer to my question, but then I remembered a lesson my dad taught way back when I was growing up.  He talked about a scripture he didn't understand.  He said he decided to put the question on a shelf and hope it would make sense later.  And then later, it did make sense.

I decided to do the same.  There was no way I was going to give up all the goodness and light I knew for one hard question, no matter how perplexing it was.

Years later, I was watching General Conference and Elder Scott answered my question.

All I have is my own experience to draw from, but I know it works.  This particular policy of the church doesn't impact me personally.  People I know and admire could be impacted in seemingly really unfair ways, but I'm waiting to see what happens.  I know what I know and that is Heavenly Father loves us.  He gives laws and boundaries to keep us safe and make us happy.  He has a prophet that leads our church.  Sometimes all we can do is remember what we know, put our questions on a shelf, and trust that the answers will be clear eventually.

He got the sweater

I printed my blog post about the sweater and put it in the box along with the sweater to send to him.  He said he smelled it to see if it smelled like me and it didn't.

Darn sweater.

This is about as good as his pictures get, mostly they are extremely blurry.  Adam is getting him a better camera for Christmas.  I said I think it's more user error than the fault of the camera.  We'll see.

I am happy every time I see his face though, even when it's a blurry face.

I don't know, maybe you noticed?

I love that kid.

Spontaneous

Thursday, Enoch texted me and wondered if Adam wanted to referee some basketball games in Wells, Nevada on Saturday.  My first thought was, probably.

Awhile ago, Enoch and Adam talked about basketball and refereeing and one of them said something about how Adam should go to Nevada and ref sometime.

I didn't know they were serious.

But I texted Adam and he was all in.

I called my mom and she said we could come and stay.

So we did.

We left Friday after Adam got home from work and Emma did a quick and intense homework session.  (That girl is all kinds of busy.  And she does such a good job on everything that it makes the time crunch worse.  Why did I get a perfectionist for a daughter?!?)

We took Sweet Allis Chalmers which is what Adam insists on calling his car even though the rest of us think it should be called The Illiad (because we also have an Odyssey).  It's nice and snug and has heated seats in the front and back which are ideal for cold fall evenings.  When we were passing Tooele (a.k.a. leaving civilization), Adam said, "Oh, I didn't think about filling up before we left.  The car says we can go 120 miles.  Can we make it to Wendover? (a.k.a. not really civilization but they do have gas stations...and enormous casinos)

I said, "Of course we can make it to Wendover.  It's only about 80 miles away."

But then we were driving straight into the wind.  We watched the gas gauge drop drop drop and I have to say, it kept us awake.

Finally, we were below empty and had about 20 miles to go.  Adam said, "Maybe you should say a prayer."

I told him I already had.

Emma was sleeping and Mark had on his headphones (roadtrips where I had to entertain bored toddlers are a distant memory).  I got Mark's attention and told him to say a prayer.  Mark's prayers are always good ones.  We finally rolled into a gas station at the exit for the Bonneville Speedway.  We had been going on fumes and prayers.  The car has an 18 gallon gas tank and we got 18 gallons of gas.

The rest of the drive was less exciting.

It was lovely as always to stay with my parents.  I like sitting around their living room, visiting.  Saturday morning, Adam went to referee and Mark and I went to Olivia's to visit her.  (My parents went to an early morning health fair in Elko, but then my mom joined our visiting later.)  Marianne's family except Morgan were at cross country state so were sad not to see them.

The boys were all playing outside and Omar who is three came to Grandma for help with his coat.  It used to be Braeden's and then Mark's coat!  Were those guys ever so small?  It melted my heart a little.

We all went into town for the 11:00 game.  Adam refereed and Enoch coached and Isaiah and Luke and Morgan played.  Adam did a fine job and enjoyed himself.  I felt like offering Enoch a throat lozenge pretty early in the game.  That kid gets hoarse.  It's not so much that he yells, but he speaks loudly.  With a lot of enthusiasm.

I felt like offering the boys a trophy.  Wowee wow wow.  Isaiah, who gets up early every morning to practice basketball is a superstar.  He is tall and lanky and coordinated.  It's a good combination for basketball.  I loved when he would pass the ball to Luke and Luke would make a basket (of course he would).  They'd run down the court and point and smile at each other.  Luke is too young for the team, but he knows a guy (the coach) and he can hold his own against much older kids.  Also, Luke gives the best hugs in the world, but that is irrelevant to basketball.... Morgan also made a basket and I loved watching him bite his lip and concentrate on defense.

I completely hit the jackpot in the nephew department.  I love all of them.

I also loved sitting by Jennifer during the game.  She watched with all the intensity of a mother bear watching her young but the only time she got truly animated was when she was worried that Isaiah was going to hurt another kid.  "Oh, be careful!" she would call.  She has the kindest heart you'll ever find.

We went back to my parents for a delicious meal and more visiting and my dad fixed my necklace.

In the late afternoon we headed home and it was a lovely little trip.