On Sunday Little O didn't want his hair to be flat. He wanted it to be "high, like the boy who wears black glasses." I couldn't figure out who he was talking about. I went to Facebook and eventually we figured it out. He wanted to look like our neighbor Jonathan. When I asked him why he wanted tall hair like Jonathan's Little O told me, "Because he is so awesome and cool!" I did my best with his hair and then he grabbed the glasses that All-a-Boy wore on Halloween to complete the look.
I am thankful to know good people who my kids can look up to and want to emulate.
And I am so grateful to have this funny boy in our family to always keep us laughing!
Do you ever feel like you are ready to explode? This tire knows the feeling.
We have been doing some work in our back yard recently and as a result our flatbed trailer was filled with dirt and rocks (you can't get one without the other in our area). Last Saturday Allen went to unload this pile of dirt and on the way the tire decided that it had carried this load long enough, that it wasn't strong enough to keep going with such a burden of weight, and with a BOOM that sounded like a gunshot it finally just exploded. Even the rim of the tire got all bent out of shape.
Luckily we had a spare tire but the weight of the dirt and rocks was so heavy that some of the dirt had to be transferred to another trailer before we could lift the flatbed high enough to replace the blowout. A friend loaned us his trailer and before too long we were ready to go again.
I was thankful for so many things that night! I was glad that Allen was driving along a smaller highway instead of the busy freeway to his destination, that he did not lose control of the vehicle or trailer when this happened and most especially that no one got hurt throughout the whole ordeal.
As I have reflected on this whole situation I found a good lesson in it. We all carry burdens, some heavier than others. Many times we take on more than we should, thinking we can handle it. Or maybe we carry memories or secrets that weigh us down for much too long. Sometimes things keep piling up and we know we can't keep going but we do it anyway because it's what we think we're supposed to do and what we want others to think we are capable of. Eventually the burden becomes too much to bear and we can't help it, we just explode.
We are all in this together. This life is a journey and we're all traveling to the same destination, just maybe not on the same road. We need each other and that's okay. I am beyond thankful for the people in my life who help ease my burdens. I am glad to have friends who know of my many imperfections and choose to still love me unconditionally.
It brings to mind the quote, "Be kind, everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle". The man who said this also penned these words, which elaborate on the shorter version:
This man beside us also has a hard fight with an unfavouring world, with strong temptations, with doubts and fears, with wounds of the past which have skinned over, but which smart when they are touched. It is a fact, however surprising. And when this occurs to us we are moved to deal kindly with him, to bid him be of good cheer, to let him understand that we are also fighting a battle; we are bound not to irritate him, nor press hardly upon him nor help his lower self. -John Watson
When it comes to decorating our house for Halloween, we can get super crazy and go all out. And for lots of years we have. This year I remembered that we had one of those plug-in Jack-o-lanterns up in the garage loft somewhere and set it on the porch next to our un-carved pumpkins about a half hour after the first group of trick-or-treaters came by. And I felt good about that.
In other Halloween news, I helped seven of my ten favorite children put together costumes. Here they are for your viewing pleasure.
Little X started out wearing O's old firefighter outfit but then wouldn't stop putting on this pumpkin get-up from our costume bin. No matter what he wears he's adorable so it really didn't matter much.
I think the last person who wore this Prince Charming costume was Allen the Younger so it's been around for a long while! (See, Hoarders - it IS worth saving every little thing!) Little O tripped on the ginormous fake boots while trick-or-treating and skinned up his nose and forehead a little bit but he says it was worth it for the candy.
My beautiful Princess Curly. She was almost Amelia Earhart again but then the Rapunzel hat won her over. True to form, she insisted on wearing tennis shoes with the dress because they were more comfortable. Love this girl.
Hubba couldn't decide between being a ninja, a secret agent, Doctor Who or a minecraft guy. Then he saw that this Jedi costume would fit - complete with boots - and couldn't resist.
Princess really, really wanted to be a trash can for Halloween. She wanted to be the same thing last year. I was going to try to make her a trash can costume but the more I looked into it and thought about it I was worried people would think she was being 'white trash' or wonder what kind of self-esteem she had if she wanted to be a trash can. Luckily she found this pirate costume that Cowgirl wore a couple of years ago and liked it. She says she is the daughter of the Pirate Princess from Jake and the Neverland Pirates. Cool by me.
Cowgirl comes up with something unique for the past couple of years. This year she wanted to be Margo from Despicable Me. Most of the costume I was able to find around the house but I had to make the skirt and shoes. It was really getting down to the wire with the shoes - I refused to buy a $50 pair of red high top Converse for a Halloween costume and I couldn't find any at the thrift stores. The day before Halloween I checked one last time and found a pair of white Italian leather hightops for $5. With a little tape and some red spray paint they turned out perfectly. And she really did look a lot like Margo, don't you think?
All-a-Boy knew right off the bat that he wanted to be Waldo. I looked all over for a red and white striped shirt but couldn't find one. Again, tape and spray paint did the job nicely. I found the hat online and he made the cane. I had also ordered him some glasses online but they never arrived (don't always trust Amazon's delivery dates! They should have come a week before Halloween and they're still not here!) Luckily one of our neighbors had some of those 3-D glasses with the lenses popped out that they let him borrow. Thanks for saving the day Kara!
Thumbelina had no idea what she was going to be. She was almost Alice in Wonderland. Then she was almost the Mad Hatter. On Halloween eve she decided to be a Christmas tree and put together this costume. Clever girl, that one.
Elle and her cute roommates all decided to dress up with things they had in their apartment. Meriah was a ladybug, Amy was a cat and Elle was a... cowboy alien. She cracks me up!
Allen dressed in his standard attire for the two years of his mission - his white shirt and tie and the tag that proclaims his calling as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I think it's my favorite thing he's worn on Halloween. I miss him times infinity but I know he's right where he should be right now and he is loving the work.
I can't help but think today of how thankful I am to have all of these awesome people call me Mom.
I went for a little walk around my neighborhood today to enjoy the last moments of beautiful weather and autumn colors before the inevitable winter shows its chilly face. I was struck by the beauty of everything when dressed in the splendor of fall. As I continued walking I began to look beyond the trees and mountains and perfectly clear blue sky and I started to think about the people who lived in each of the homes I passed, not just now but in the past as well. I recalled stories and memories of their goodness.
She brought us cereal and put take-and-bake pizzas and milk in our fridge when we were coming home from a long vacation and had no groceries. He convinced us to seed our side yard and that's the most thick, green carpet of grass on our property. They made sure our kids were fed two days after Christmas when I broke my leg and had a baby. He brought industrial-sized fans to help dry our basement when it flooded. She always brings us cookies when she's home for a visit. They are always willing to lend me the inevitable missing ingredients from an almost-finished recipe at dinner time. He taught me a valuable lesson in unconditional love. They got Allen started with his first real job which has continued to be one of our greatest blessings.
She shares her homemade jam with me every year. She always seems to know when I need a friendly word or a smile. She has rocked at least seven of my babies to sleep at church when I'm trying to manage other things.
The list is endless, really. It made me emotional to think about how much I love where I live - and not only for the beauty that is visible but more especially for the beauty that I know exists in so many of the awesome people that surround us and, perhaps unknowingly, have become an extension of our family.
First off, commas really do change lives! You've probably all seen the examples of Let's eat, Grandma and Let's eat Grandma but yesterday I read of a real life situation on my cousin's facebook wall where someone's entire life was the result of a forgotten comma. A woman, let's call her Jane, was pregnant and got a letter from her husband serving overseas where he said, You name her Jane. She thought it odd to name the baby after her but was touched that her husband missed her and wanted the baby to share her name. Baby Jane was born and a few months later he returned home. He asked why in the world she would name the baby Jane? She showed him the letter he had written and he explained that he had meant You name her, Jane. As in, you decide on a name. Seriously, people. Commas change lives.
Nothing tops that story but here are some errors I've seen over the past few months:
This gem is located right in front of Elle's dorm.
This is posted on the door of one of All-a-Boy's classes at the high school. That's right, it is written by a teacher. I'm just glad she teaches math and not English.
Look at the description for Bistec en Rajas. I have no idea what that means and I don't want to know. Where do you think they find chunks?
I can't allow my kids to go to a school that has typos in their recruiting mailers. Even if your qualify for a scholarship.
I love you ROCK STAR. And I love how the image of the hand is stolen from shutterstock and they didn't even really try to hide it. The dollar store always has something awesome for me but this is one of my favorites.
My friends went to Boston and sent me the next few pictures from their journey. Thanks Larsons!
Come to Rhonda's house and find out why you are a great.
Every S deserves an apostrophe!
This one is just funny. No guarantees if you're shopping here!
These next three pictures are from my trip to New York a couple of weeks ago. There's no grammatical error but there's definitely something wrong going on here.
Do you need a closer look?
Your eyes do not deceive you. That's Bedtime Bear hanging from a hook in the corner of a restaurant on Broadway.
I couldn't resist asking what this was all about. What do you think? Leave your guess in a comment and I'll send (or deliver for local friends) a care package with some of my most favorite things to the first person who gets it right.
What Lies Beneath. This picture will make sense later.
I was driving around this afternoon, taking Thumbelina to an orthodontist appointment and Little O to school, when I figured I might as well go pick up some milk and finish my grocery shopping while I was out with Little X. Thumbelina said she'd just come with me to get the milk since it was now lunch time at school and she wouldn't be missing any classes or anything. So I started to head to the freeway but then something in my brain shifted and started changing plans so I decided to just take her to school after all. After dropping her off I told myself, time to get milk. But I suddenly had the thought that we would be fine without milk until tomorrow - what I needed to do was go home and eat a grilled cheese sandwich.
And then I started arguing with myself. (I know, it's embarrassing to admit, but this was really happening.) I don't want a grilled cheese sandwich. I'd have to get out the griddle and a spatula and clean them up afterwards. And I'm not really that hungry right now anyway. The thought wouldn't leave me.You want grilled cheese! You can use three pieces of cheese and cook it at a nice, low temperature and put a bowl over the top of it so the cheese melts just right while it's cooking up all golden, buttery brown. Doesn't that sound nice? Dang it, grilled cheese. Why do you have to be so delicious?
I drove toward home.
As I pulled into the driveway I noticed that Little X was asleep. I started thinking of all I could accomplish while he was having a little snooze and already had a mental list of tasks as I laid him down on my bed. I gathered a load of laundry to put in the wash and went to get my sewing machine out of the closet when the thought came to me again:grilled cheese. In a minute, I told myself, and put the laundry in the washer. I started to fold and put away the clothes in the dryer and decided to make Curly's bed for her when the thought came again: grilled cheese perfection without anyone else around to ask for a bite! I decided that I must be hungrier than I thought and went upstairs to the kitchen.
It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I do not like to clean. So, as delicious as grilled cheese was sounding I decided to bypass the extra mess and just get some pretzels from the pantry to tide me over while I finished the things I wanted to get done. As I reached for them I thought, you don't want salty, dry pretzels! Why eat something you don't even want? Just make a grilled cheese sandwich! And I thought, maybe I'll just eat a piece of cheese for now. So I opened the fridge and that was when I noticed the puddle. Not just a little puddle, but a large one. It came out from beneath the refrigerator and pooled under the cupboards all the way to the sink.
What the heck? I wondered. I got some towels out and dried up the mess but saw that the water continued to puddle out from beneath the fridge. There was a leak somewhere. I pulled down the stuff from the top of the fridge and pulled it out just far enough to get a peek. All I saw was wet.
I pulled the fridge out all the way and noticed a teensy spray of water shooting out of a teensy little hole in the water line to our fridge. My first thought was to call Allen. But my second, almost simultaneous thought was to fix this myself. I traced the water line back to the sink and found a little shutoff valve on it. Righty-tighty I told myself and sure enough the water stopped spraying. All that was left was to clean up the mess.
Do you remember the last time you cleaned beneath your refrigerator? Me either. I forgot how much dust and trash and junk can accumulate under there. Imagine a whole nation of dust bunnies with a 10 year collection of paper scraps, lost toys, forgotten pennies and random ABC refrigerator magnets... all soaked in water. It looked like swamp sludge with cheap kiddie prizes mixed in. Gross.
Two hours later, I am proud to say that the mess is cleaned up. I even salvaged some of the prizes much to the delight of Little X who spent a good half hour telling me what they were and thanking me for each one.
Why do I call this a modern day miracle? Because our kitchen has flooded before. The size of the puddle that had accumulated was manageable. If I had gone shopping for groceries like I had planned then chances are Cowgirl would have come home to a much bigger puddle while I was out running errands and picking kids up from school. I would have rushed home with a whole van full of kids to keep out of the kitchen while I cleaned up the mess - which likely would have caused some water damage to the floor after sitting for so long.
I have learned that miracles happen all the time these days but people have stopped seeing them as such. I try to always recognize God's hand in my life and I have no doubt that this was a time when He was there for me. I know that in a few days, maybe even by tomorrow, I would have discounted this whole experience as coincidence. This is why I write such things down. I need to remember.
Could something as silly as a sudden craving for a grilled cheese sandwich have somehow come to mind by divine intervention and saved me from Major Flooding of the Kitchen, Part 2?
You can think I'm crazy or whatever else - but I say yes. Absolutely.
Maybe tomorrow I'll have time for that grilled cheese sandwich.
This has been the most rainy autumn I remember. I love it.
When people post a picture and add 'hashtag-no-filter' I have no idea what that means. Does it mean people usually put some find of filter on their pictures? The only filter I own is the one in my furnace and I just remembered that it probably needs to be cleaned. Dang. Hashtag-dirty-filter.
Is it just me or does everyone else get asked, "So, any fun plans today?" by cashiers and sales clerks at stores when there's a lull in the conversation and they're feeling awkward? I am usually not feeling awkward until they ask that. It's like an I'm Feeling Awkward Alert. Are they trained to ask that question or do you think they all thought of it independently? I think they should be trained to offer compliments instead. No, even better - if they can't think of anything to say they should offer discounts! Now we're talking!
I saw an article somewhere recently that said that the going price for a lost tooth these days was up near $4. FOUR DOLLARS. What?? I remember what I used to get whenever I lost a tooth - a Canadian dime. Your guess is as good as mine as to why I was getting Canadian money, but I don't remember caring either way because a Canadian dime worked in the prize machines outside of the grocery store and as long as I came away with my handful of Chiclets or Sixlets it was all good.
So... is the tooth fairy Canadian? Also, Chiclets are a gross excuse for gum. And Sixlets are not real chocolate. I am older and wiser and have real taste buds now.
Living vicariously through your kids is something you're not supposed to do but most of the time it can be pretty awesome. However, I am discovering that it can also be pretty heart-wrenching when you see them experiencing things you would rather forget ever having gone through.
I wish other kids (and adults!) could see my kids through my eyes. Awesomeness is their superpower but most of them keep it hidden away and all anyone sees is their alter-egos. Which are also pretty awesome, actually. But what do I know? I'm just their biased mother.
Being a mom to these 10 kids of mine is the best thing I'll ever do, I'm pretty sure. There is no fame or fortune or anything else that can replace motherhood for me.
That being said, there is still a whole mental list of things I want to do in my life and I'm not even close to completing it.
Regardless of how long I stand and stare at what's in the pantry, it never makes itself into dinner.
I can not spend less than an hour at our local thrift store. Even when I tell myself that I'm only going to go in and see if I can find just that one book or basket or shirt or whatever, there are too many treasures to be found and I can't leave without a quick run-through to my favorite sections of the store.
I've discovered that I almost always like thrift store clothes better than what I can find at the mall. The best part is that they've been washed at some point so they're already shrunk down to post-wash size and I don't have to worry about them shrinking too much after purchase.
I can not stop watching this video lately:
or listening to the song. I see the darker-haired guy as Josh Groban every time I watch it and that makes it even better. (He's pretty much Josh's Norwegian twin. Look at the guy. You know it's true.) I think Josh Groban should do a cover of this song, actually. That would be awesome.
The Fox song is so catchy that even Little X can sing the chorus.
Even while eating enchiladas! (I told you awesomeness was a superpower around here.)
I generally try to avoid politics and discussions about politics because I know that not everyone thinks the same way I do and I don't like to offend my friends. Actually, the main reason I avoid talking about politics is because I don't feel like I have enough knowledge to defend my opinions in the inevitable discussion which follows.
So. That being said, I saw this on a friend's Facebook wall a while ago and the discussion I read in the comments was one that I was reluctant to chime in on because I wasn't sure I was understanding both sides. I decided that my own little corner of the blogosphere was a better place to share the video and clarify my understanding of what is being said, as well as sharing my own story.
So first, watch this:
And now for my questions.
Why does it matter what 5,000 people (a pretty tiny percentage of US citizens) think the distribution of wealth is? It is what it is, right? People thinking it's different doesn't mean anything significant, does it?
What exactly does "redistribution of wealth" mean? I picture Robin
Hood, taking from the rich and giving to the poor. That doesn't seem
right to me. I understand that some people think that the wealthiest Americans should make less money and the poorest Americans should make more money. But how? I don't understand how this would happen or who should get to decide how it would happen, if it ever did. Isn't that something we choose based on the decisions we make?
Here is what I know.
I was born into a family where both of my parents were Deaf and ended their formal education after high school. They both worked hard for most of the years I was at home in order to provide for our family of 6. Mom was a seamstress and did data entry. Dad worked as a pipefitter, custodian, plumber, and anything else that helped him to support our family. I had two older siblings and one younger brother. Times were often tough but we were mostly happy and always found a way to provide for each other. My siblings and I were never encouraged to attend college because my parents never felt it was necessary.
When I left home I was the first in my family to do so. I drove from California to Utah in a 1976 Dodge Aspen that my parents helped me pay $500 for. The day I arrived I went to the local university and community college and found myself two jobs as a sign language interpreter. I worked 60 hours a week and provided for myself. It was empowering.
Allen comes from a family of sixteen kids who were raised by two supportive parents that cared for their family on a school teacher's salary. His mom never worked outside of the home. They always had what they needed because his parents knew how to budget their money and taught their kids how to save. They never felt poor. The kids all learned to work together. His parents encouraged all of their kids to get good grades and move on to college after graduating from high school, so they did.
When we got married, Allen and I both worked while we were going to college. I continued to interpret while Allen worked wherever the pay was decent. At first he worked on campus. In the summers he painted houses. After a while he got a job at a food manufacturing company, and then for a company who produced high-end speaker systems. He did janitorial work. At one point between jobs he worked at Jiffy Lube because it was the only place that was hiring. We had a couple of kids and took care of our little family. It wasn't always easy, but we made things work. I shopped for clothes at thrift stores. I planned my menus according to what items were on sale at the grocery store. I stopped attending school so I could be home with the kids more. I worked days while Allen worked nights. I took jobs at restaurants and golf courses when interpreting work wasn't available. Things always seemed to work out with thoughtful planning on our part.
We dreamed of buying a house but couldn't afford it. One day we went
for a long drive and found a little town that most people haven't heard of, about 90 minutes away,
where houses were very affordable. We put a small down payment on an $18,000
house and Allen commuted an hour and a half each way to work for a year. Allen fixed up the yard and remodeled the house on weekends. After a few
years we were able to sell the house for enough of a profit to make a
down-payment on a house back in the place where we wanted to raise our
family.
When our third child, Thumbelina, was only 8 months old she had to have major cranial surgery due to cranial synostosis. Allen was out of work when this happened and had to continue his job hunt in the middle of it all so he wouldn't miss any opportunities that might come. Thankfully I had insurance through the school district I was working
for, but we still had a large portion left to pay after her long
hospital stay. We worked hard and paid what we could each month until we finally took care of that debt. We took out student loans when we needed to and paid them back on our own. We had yard sales and even sold a few things to a pawn shop. At one point I taught accordion lessons on Saturdays to bring in a little extra cash.
School was sort of an off-and-on thing for Allen, which was part of the reason his jobs weren't the most high paying. We recognized that this needed to change and we decided to work together to make school a priority for him. Allen carefully chose his field of study and after many years of determination and juggling schedules he got his degree. It was not always easy but we knew that in the end Allen could better provide for the large family we hoped to fill our home with.
Allen graduated with a bachelor's degree in 1999 and found a job with the company he is still working for today. (Pretty much the best, most family-oriented company on the planet. I wish everyone I like could work there.)
Did we have to work hard to get where we are? Yes, we did. And we continue to do so. So here's the part I guess I don't get. Wherever we are on the scale of Poor to Rich, isn't that where we deserve to be? And if the guy who makes more money than he even knows what to do with chose his profession or lucked out or worked like crazy to get there, doesn't he deserve it, too?
I really would love to hear what you think about this, whether you agree with me or not, because I am trying to understand both sides. I really am.
Meet my friend Janet. She and I grew up together in southern California. Like me, her parents are both Deaf so we met when my family converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1980 and started attending a congregation filled with Deaf members and their families. I spent many weekends at Janet's house in Southgate and she spent plenty of time at my family's apartment in Torrance as well. We share a lot of great memories.
Janet's son just left to serve a church mission this year, like my Allen-the-younger. You'll never guess where he was called to serve? Okay, maybe you will guess. Texas! Same mission as my boy but different language. How cool is that??
Janet happened to be in my town a couple of weeks ago and she called to see if she could stop by. We hadn't seen each other in many, many years - but it didn't matter! We visited for a good 5 hours before she had to leave and it wasn't long enough.
There are some friends who you can go for years without seeing and it doesn't matter one bit. You just pick up where you left off and you laugh together until your face aches and your sides hurt and you share stories of what's transpired in the time you've been apart and for the short time that you get to be together all is right with the world. That's how it was with Janet.
Have you ever felt homesick, not necessarily for a place, but more for a time in the past and the people who were a part of it? Being with Janet brought back so many happy thoughts and fond memories. Thanks for your visit Janet! It was just what I needed. You are good for my soul.
Me and Janet at a church Halloween party somewhere around a million years ago.
Me and Janet in my backyard a couple of weeks ago.
I am always lacking in new jokes to put in the kids lunches so this year I decided to go with themes. Since our kids are huge Star Wars fans, I searched the web for Star Wars jokes and found enough for 3 weeks worth of lunches! Here are our favorites.
Q: Where does Princess Leia shop for Father's Day?
A: At the Darth Maul.
Q: What is Darth Vader's favorite Disney song?
A: When You Wish Upon A Death Star
Q: Why is a droid mechanic never lonely?
A: Because he's always making new friends.
Q: Why did the angry Jedi cross the road?
A: To get to the Dark Side.
Q: What's a Jedi's favorite car?
A: A Toy-Yoda
Q: What's a Jedi's favorite toy?
A: A yo-yo, duh! (Yo-Yoda)
Q: How does Darth Vader like his toast?
A: On the Dark Side.
Q: Which Star Wars character works in a restaurant?
A: Darth Waiter
Q: When was it obvious that Anakin was going to the Dark Side?
A: In Sith grade.
Q: Where does Qui-Gon keep his jam?
A: In a Jar-Jar.
Q: Why shouldn't you ask Yoda for money?
A: Because he's always a little short.
Q: What do you call a Jedi in denial?
A: Obi-Wan Cannot Be
Q: How is the Force like duct tape?
A: It has a dark side, a light side, and it holds the universe together.
Q: What's the difference between an AT-AT and a stormtrooper?
A: One's an Imperial walker and the other is a walking Imperial.
Q: Why do doctors make the best Jedi?
A: Because a Jedi must have patience.
Q:What do you call a sith who won't fight?
A: A sithy.
I used to sing a lot. I would often also use American Sign Language as I sang because it was the language I was most comfortable expressing myself with. I guess I figured that any emotion that wasn't coming through in my singing would be evident in my signs. I remember when I came across the word selflessness in a song and couldn't think of a specific sign to use, so I did what I always did - I pulled our fat, red dictionary out of my Dad's desk drawer and looked up the word. (This was in the days before the internets even existed - am I old or what?) Here's what I found: selfless·ness n. Having, exhibiting, or motivated by no concern for oneself; unselfish.
Whenever I figure out a new sign it gets stored in the part of my mind that puts pictures to words. And as I experience situations that fit the word my mind creates a picture which is nicely tucked away next to the definition.
But this story is not about me. It is about Thumbelina, whose face is now permanently ingrained in my mind's dictionary next to the word selflessness.
Thumbelina has wanted to be in a school musical ever since she started high school. The problem is, she has also always wanted to be on the high school's cross country team - and the musical always takes place during cross country season. Because this is her senior year, her last chance to live this dream of being on stage, she decided to go for it. She had been practicing with the cross country team all summer long just in case she didn't get in to the musical, but her plan was to fulfill her dream and perform in the musical this year. Well, Thumbelina tried out for the musical. And she got in! She was pretty excited, as you can imagine. She decided that she wanted to try to do both cross country and the musical.
After she got home with her rehearsal schedule and started to look at the dates on our family calendar she realized that most of her cross country meets would fall on the dates of required rehearsals for the musical. She was torn. I asked her what was making the choice so difficult when her plan all along had been to be in the musical. Thumbelina told me that their girls varsity cross country team was the best they had been in years. In fact, they had a pretty great chance of making it to the State Meet. The problem was that she was one of the top 5 runners - the ones whose placing in each race determined their place overall. In other words: if she didn't run they might not make it to state.
So, as much as Thumbelina knew she would have a fantastic time rehearsing and performing with her friends in the musical, she felt like she would be letting the girls cross country team down if she didn't compete with them.
She chose to run.
I asked her later if she had explained to the drama or choir teacher why she chose cross country. She didn't because she didn't want them to think she was looking for their praise or pity or whatever. She also does not like sounding braggy by telling people that she's one of the team's top runners. I asked if she told her coach why she was choosing cross country. No, she hadn't. She just pushed her dream aside, quietly turned in her script for the musical, kept attending cross country practices and kept her reasoning to herself.
On Friday Elle got a big, white envelope in the mail. We had been anticipating this letter and kind of stalking the poor mailman everyday as we waited for it to arrive. This was the letter that would let her know where she would be going on her 18 month church service mission! (If you want to know more about why Mormons send missionaries all over the world and what exactly they do, clickHERE.) She waited until Saturday afternoon to open it so that everyone in the immediate family could be here.
Do you want to share in our excitement? Here you go...
We are all so excited for her to serve in the Louisiana Baton Rouge Mission, speaking the Spanish language!
I really have no words to describe the feelings of my heart. This beautiful young woman, my sweet Elle, is going to be one fantastic missionary!
Thumbelina got asked to homecoming on Saturday. With a goat. A GOAT!!!
There was a note asking her to please leave her porch for a few minutes after seeing the goat so that it could be retrieved. (MUCH better thinking thanThe "Bunny" Incident a couple of years ago.) The goat was bleating (is that what goats do? Baaaahing? Mehhhhing?) as if on cue when she opened the door. I would even venture to say that it was pretty cute.
After debating how she could answer with live animals (No LION - I'd love to go to homecoming! or COW could I say no?) and then realizing she had no access to a lion or a cow, she responded with a loaf of banana bread: I would LOAF to go to homecoming with you!
I love how creative the kids around here are when asking to dances. So much better than how it worked when I was in high school... which was not getting asked at all.
(Okay, I got asked. Maybe twice. But those are stories for another day.)
There was some serious weeping and wailing going on around here last week. And no matter what I had to say, I was adding to the misery. I was not allowed to voice any opinions or share any thoughts on how to deal with the situation because that only magnified the pity party and besides, I didn't understand! These kind of situations frustrate me times infinity, especially when I feel like I have some genuine solutions to offer but the child in despair can not hear what I am saying because they can't see or hear beyond their own overwhelming thoughts and emotions.
Once it was obvious that my child was not listening to me and did not want to hear me speak, I put myself in time-out so I could think things through before saying things I would later regret. I tried to look at things from my child's perspective. I personally knew how frustrating the situation was because I had, in fact, gone through it myself quite a few times when I was a teenager. I tried to think of a way to communicate some thoughts with this child without actually having to witness the inevitable eyerolls. Nothing came to mind.
I went to search the internet for quotes about choosing to be happy despite whatever situation you may be faced with, thinking I could just put some quotes in this particular child's lunch, tuck them into textbooks and hide a few in the various pockets of a backpack. I found a bunch of quotes that I loved and started cut and pasting them onto a document that I could print off. As I was watching them print I had another idea come to mind. Why not make a What Mom's Thinking spot in our house? A sort of Here's What I Would Say If You Would Listen kind of idea. The idea started to grow into something I had to do. This would be a great way to share my silent thoughts with anyone who chose to read them rather than targeting a specific child.
I found some clothespins and attached the quotes to a long piece of ribbon with them. I hung the ribbon from an empty curtain rod in our dining room and didn't say a thing about it. I didn't tell anyone to go look at it. I didn't tell the child who needed to read the quotes more than anyone to stop moping and go read them. I just left them hanging there and eventually curiosity got the best of everyone and they all went and checked it out.
I am no longer an insensitive, non-understanding nag. I am simply someone who wanted to have a little place to post some quotes that I like. And even if the kids never read them I think it will make me feel a little better knowing that they're out there. Kind of like blogging - it always makes me feel better to put my thoughts out on the internet knowing that someone might read them and understand.
Here are the quotes that I found about choosing to be happy instead of miserable when things don't go the way you would have liked. I can't give anyone credit for making the quotes cute because I didn't keep track of where I found them - but none of them were made cute by me. Just so you know. I'm sure the guilt will get to me and eventually I'll find time to look them all up again so I can give credit where its due. But until then, here they are:
Choose to be happy, friends! It makes life a lot easier.
I can totally see you rolling your eyes at me. Stop it.
less·ness n. 
