How Frugality Leads to Exhaustion

Thanks for using your craft knowledge for good and giving suggestions about the goat ears. I'd love to post a picture of how cute the boys look in their goat costumes standing next to us in our farmer costumes. (I asked Peter what kind of farm animal he wanted to be and he said a goat, because then he could be a kid dressed as a kid. Yeah, my three-year-old is punny. I love it.)

But there is no picture.

Because there are no goat costumes.

You see, I got home from Wal-Mart yesterday having spent $30 on costume supplies and still missing pieces. Bryan and I agreed that that was too much to spend on things we would only be wearing once. And so we brainstormed: What else could we be for Halloween?

Bryan and I were up until 2am executing the costume idea that he came up with. So time-wise, the goat costumes would have been better. But money-wise, the plan that we went with only cost $15, and that was mostly on long-sleeved shirts that would match our costumes, so they're items that we can use again and again.

I'm not going to tell you what our costumes are, but I will tell you that we needed empty diaper boxes, wrapping paper, empty yogurt containers, and face paint to work our construction magic. (And by our, I mostly mean Bryan.)

Photographic evidence of our awesomeness coming on Monday...

Mr. Goat

I'm a bit of a procrastinator. (As she is reading this my mom is probably cocking one eyebrow and saying, "A bit?") I don't mean to be. I don't like to be. But I am.

That said, today we figured out what we're going to be for Halloween. I can handle the costumes for myself and Bryan, but I'm a little perplexed about how to complete Peter and Cooper's. (And by complete, I of course mean I haven't started, but I have a plan for most of it.)

Does anyone have any ideas about how to make ears and horns for a goat? One suggestion was to use a headband. I thought maybe I could find brown (or gray, or black, or whatever color sweats we can find at DI) beanies for the headpieces. But once I have them, what do I use for ears and horns? And how do I attach them?

Come on all you crafty people, what do you think?

That They Might Have Joy

Peter wasn't the only member of our family that spoke in church on Sunday. Bryan was the concluding speaker for the Sacrament Meeting program. He also taught Elder's Quorum that day. And he's been working late into the night at work, including weekends.

And his talk was really good.

So good, in fact, that I'm going to include his full talk here.

Thanks Bryan.

The Talk:

Prior to his death, Lehi counseled his sons, prophesied to them, and taught them the simple beautiful truths of the gospel. Perhaps the most powerful words he shared were those given to his son Jacob in Second Nephi Chapter 2. He explained the connection between salvation and grace, the relationship between justice and mercy in fulfillment of the law by the intercession of Christ through the Atonement. He revealed that the purpose of our existence is to have joy.

Though wondrous and heartwarming these truths might be it is interesting to note the preface Lehi gave to Jacob before providing his revelation and counsel. He said:

1 I speak unto you: Thou art my ^afirst-born in the days of my tribulation in the wilderness. And behold, in thy childhood thou hast suffered afflictions and much sorrow, because of the rudeness of thy brethren.

2 Nevertheless, Jacob, my first-born in the wilderness, thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine ^aafflictions for thy gain. (2 Ne. 2:1-2)

Lehi mentions afflictions and tribulations three times in the phrases preceding his teachings for Jacob. Adversity appears to be the preeminent thought of this chapter despite the revelations on the Atonement and the purpose of life. Adversity is present at each step of the Plan of Salvation which is summarized in verse eleven:

For it must needs be, that there is an ^aopposition in all things. If not so, my first-born in the wilderness, righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad.

Adversity and opposition are equivalent in the plan of salvation. These concepts are represented as a mist of darkness in Lehi’s dream. Despite its presence in the plan of Salvation, Lehi’s dream illustrates that the dark mist of adversity is a temporary distraction on our journey toward the Tree of Life. Yet the metaphor of the mist of darkness has a physical reality. When we are engulfed in adversity it is difficult, if not impossible, to see our final goal. We are graciously given the Gospel represented by the rod of iron to sustain us in our time of probation. Though it surrounds us and is at times oppressive, it has no physical power over us. We may push it aside and move through it as easily as a cloud. We will fail only if we choose to let go of the iron rod.

Such times are a trial of our faith and willingness to adhere to the iron rod. We can take comfort in the words of the Lord to Hezekiah: “I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold, I will ^aheal thee.”

Elder L. Tom Perry said a year ago October:

We can’t predict all the struggles and storms in life, not even the ones just around the next corner, but as persons of faith and hope, we know beyond the shadow of any doubt that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true and the best is yet to come.

Today, brothers and sisters, you and I are united in this meeting, striving to hold to the word of God, to act in faith towards our promise of eternal reward. The mists of darkness swirl around us as adversity finds a way to visit each of our lives. President Faust spoke 5 years ago with a message of “of hope and counsel for those who may wonder about the seemingly unfair distribution of pain, suffering, disaster, and heartache in this life.” He said

Some may ask “Why was I born with physical or mental limitations?”

“What did I do to deserve this heartache?”

“Why did my father have to suffer so much following a cruel, disabling stroke? He was such a righteous man and always faithful and true to the Lord and His Church.”

“Why did I have to lose my mother twice—once to the ravages of Alzheimer’s disease and, secondly, to death? She was such an angel.”

“Why did the Lord let our little baby girl die? She was so precious, and we loved her so much.”

“Why hasn’t the Lord answered our prayers the way we wished?”

“Life isn’t fair. We know some people who have done some very bad things, and yet they seem to have everything they want or need.”

We may be tempted to ask "Why does this have to happen to me? Why do I have to suffer this now? What have I done to deserve this?" But these questions have the power to dominate our thoughts. Such questions can overtake our vision, absorb our energy, and deprive us of the experiences the Lord wants us to receive.

Dr. Arthur Wentworth Hewitt shared his belief of a possible answer to these questions. He said:

I believe it is because He loves us so much more than He loves our happiness. How so? Well, if on a basis of strict personal return here and now, all the good were always happy and all the bad suffered disaster (instead of often quite the reverse), this would be the most subtle damnation of character imaginable.”

How could God love us more than our happiness? At first this statement seems paradoxical. President Kimball gave this insightful explanation:

“If pain and sorrow and total punishment immediately followed the doing of evil, no soul would repeat a misdeed. If joy and peace and rewards were instantaneously given the doer of good, there could be no evil—all would do good and not because of the rightness of doing good. There would be no test of strength, no development of character, no growth of powers, no free agency. … There would also be an absence of joy, success, resurrection, eternal life, and godhood.”

His words are an expansion of what Lehi said to Jacob in verse 13:

If ye shall say there is no sin, ye shall also say there is no righteousness. And if there be no righteousness there be no happiness. And if there be no righteousness nor happiness there be no punishment nor misery. And if these things are not ^bthere is no God. And if there is no God we are not, neither the earth; for there could have been no creation of things, neither to act nor to be acted upon; wherefore, all things must have vanished away.

We must recognize that adversity comes from many sources, and that not all our sufferings are the result of sin or transgression. As President Kimball and Lehi explained, without adversity we cannot fulfill our ultimate purpose of attaining eternal joy.

When we find ourselves in the midst of adversity we can choose how to react, how to better hold to the rod. Instead of asking “Why me, why now?” we can shift our focus and ask “What am I to do? What am I to learn from this experience? What am I to change? Whom am I to help? How can I remember my many blessings in times of trial?” Because the reward for perseverance through adversity is often delayed, we are also given the blessing of the chance to exercise our faith and trust in Heavenly Father. We can also recognize that depending on the type of adversity we face, we are ultimately offered the opportunity to learn and apply godly traits of patience for those suffering illness or the loss of a loved one; forgiveness for those suffering from the misdeeds of others; and repentance for those who have chosen to step off the path. Exercising these qualities can bring blessings of happiness to us and others today. Exercising these traits allows us to adhere more fully to the rod of iron, and enjoy the safety and security that comes with living the gospel plan.

On my mission to Rio de Janeiro, my companion and I met a religious woman who spoke to us because she felt she was losing her faith in God. She recognized God allowed her to carry the heavy burdens of abject poverty, failing health and the loss her husband and many of her children.

“Elders” she asked us, “Why has God allowed me to suffer so? If he is all powerful, why doesn’t he make a better way? If he is all knowing, surely he knows of a better way?” The words I shared with her surprised me because I had never faced the trials and tribulations she faced. “Sister,” I said to her “there is no better way. This is the best way. You must trust that He has chosen the best way for all of His children.” I reassured that the Lord will not allow her to carry more than she can bear, and encouraged her to act in faith to carry the burdens she had been given. We suggested that she reach out to her friends and neighbors, to provide them with service and love, to offer to share their burdens. We promised her that as she did these things, Heavenly Father would provide her strength to carry her burden, and that her time of adversity would turn into a time of strength and peace.

President Brigham Young said in his discourses that

“All intelligent beings who are crowned with crowns of glory, immortality, and eternal lives must pass through every ordeal appointed for intelligent beings to pass through, to gain their glory and exaltation. Every calamity that can come upon mortal beings will be suffered to come upon the few, to prepare them to enjoy the presence of the Lord. … Every trial and experience you have passed through is necessary for your salvation.

President Faust added to those words:

We have much reason to hope. Joy can be ours if we are willing to sacrifice all for the Lord. Then we can look forward to the infinitely priceless possibility of overcoming all the challenges of this life. Then we will be with the Savior forever

Brothers and sisters, I echo the testimony of President Faust, Brigham Young, Spencer W. Kimball and the ancient prophet Lehi. Though we may be caught in the darkness of the mists of adversity, adherence to the gospel of Jesus Christ will see us through to our eternal exaltation. We can have happiness in the midst of opposition and receive blessings in this life as we make correct choices and trust in the Lord.

I’ll close with words of Lehi

But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who ^aknoweth all things. ^aAdam ^bfell that men might be; and men ^care, that they might have ^djoy.

Lifting Burdens

Go Fourth

Peter spoke in Primary again yesterday. It was his longest talk yet. We worked on it together, I asked him questions about the topic (The Proclamation on The Family teaches me about work) and he provided examples of how he helps around the house. We had a rough draft on Friday, but I didn't get it typed up until Sunday morning, so he didn't have time to memorize it. And that means that I don't have a movie of him giving his talk. But I do have a copy of the talk it self:

In The Family A Proclamation to the World it says “Successful…families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities.”

I am learning how to work at home. I help my mom and dad by cleaning up my toys, taking my dishes to the sink when I’m done eating, and helping to put away the laundry after it’s folded. I also like to help my mom cook. We make pancakes, cookies, and muffins. We like to work together and I like to eat what we make.

I am thankful that I can learn to work with my family. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

One of the other moms (who was standing in the back of the Primary room ready to help her own Sunbeam deliver his assigned scripture) complimented me on Peter's talk. She was impressed with how well he spoke into the mic and how he didn't seem the least bit shy. Wow, he's come a long way.

We practiced enough on Sunday morning that he knew the beginning. While I was typing up the final draft he pulled out his computer and wrote up his own version of the opening sentence.


In case you can't see it clearly, it says, "A FEMLE A POCLOMEACII TOO DU WRLD" or "A Family a Proclamation to the World." I think he did a pretty decent job sounding it out. If I had felt otherwise, we probably wouldn't have taken a picture.

The Primary Sacrament Meeting Program is in two weeks, and things are looking positive that he'll say his one-liner part!

The Acquisition of Language

Questions? Comments? Concerns?

I've been thinking a lot about comments lately. Peter is so familiar with my daily routine that whenever I turn on the computer he asks, "Did we get any comments?" He'll usually follow that with, "Oh, we got four!" I'm not sure why four is the chosen number, but that's the digit he most often goes with. Sometimes we have comments, sometimes we don't. I try not to gauge my self-worth by the number of comments I have, but I have my moments. I would be surprised to learn of someone with a blog that didn't feel some sense of anxiety over a dearth of responses.

I had an epiphany a few weeks ago: If I want comments on my blog, I need to leave comments on my friends' blogs.

Google Reader has been wonderful for keeping on top of reading everyone's blogs (although, truth be told, I currently have over one hundred items to read, but I expect I can move through them rather quickly), but not so great for commenting on them. Why is the extra step of opening a new window to view the blog such a deterrent? Am I really that lazy? (Yes.)

The other comment impediment I have is that sometimes I want to comment on a blog, but then I realize that the person (who I know, but may not have seen in many years) is probably unaware that I read their blog. Awkward. Do I out myself as a blog stalker? Do I act natural, like "of course I read your blog, it was on your Facebook page and we ARE Facebook friends, why wouldn't I read it?" Or do I continue to skulk in the shadows of the internet (whoa, that sounds much more nefarious than it did in my head)?

I usually just skulk.

That gets me into the habit of not saying anything. On anyone's blog. Lame, huh?

So, if you haven't heard anything from me for a while on your own blog, please know that I'm still reading. And know that I've re-doubled my efforts to make comments.

I'm still pretty lousy at returning emails. One thing at a time...

Just Like Big Brother

Salt of the Earth

I've made an effort recently to replenish our bread supply every weekend. Usually Friday is my baking night of choice, but I totally forgot that last week. So Saturday night when Bryan sat down at his computer to bond with his brothers over their joint goal of obliterating zombies, I pulled the needed ingredients out of the pantry. I lined up the ingredients on my workspace so that I would remember the preferred order of adding.

Usually I make sure my counter is totally clear before I begin to bake, but on Saturday I was tired and decided that the few items cluttering up the counter weren't a big deal. I plowed ahead with the mixing and kneading of the dough.

After putting the first two loaves in the oven I decided I would take advantage of the fact that I was still standing and clean the kitchen a bit. I emptied and loaded the dishwasher, put away my baking supplies and wiped down the counters. It was during this last step that I saw something on the counter that made me gasp with shock. You see, there was one ingredient that we always keep on the counter, one that must have blended in with the extras loitering about, one that had escaped being added to the almost baked bread.

If you read the title, you can probably guess what I forgot.

The salt.

Have you ever had bread without any salt? It's not great. It's not even good. This isn't the first time I've done this either. One of the few times I made bread in college, I omitted the salt. My friends and roommates were kind about my mistake (at least, that's what I remember, maybe I've blocked out the mocking and accusations of attempted poisoning), but I was still pretty embarrassed.

So we have four loaves of unsalted (or heart-healthy, as Bryan calls it) bread. No, strike that. We have two loaves. Cooper still devours it and if I toast it and add margarine I can choke it down without serious discomfort. Peter, on the other hand, took one bite and said with firmness, "This is NOT good." I suggested he eat the bread upside-down so his tongue tasted more of the margarine, tricking his brain into thinking there was salt in the bread.

"Did that help?" I asked.

His reply: "It did not."

Maybe this weekend I should pull the recipe out instead of relying on my apparently shoddy memory. Or maybe I should plaster one-word signs all over my kitchen:

SALT!

Dare To Do Right

During breakfast on Saturday morning:

Peter: Mom, what does God want me to do?

Me: (Trying to think of what would be the most important thing for him to do, leaning towards obey mom and dad) Well-

Peter: Is it to be righteous?

Me: Yes, He wants you to be righteous.

Peter: I try, but it's hard. My head tells me to be righteous, but my tummy tells me to not be righteous.

What I actually told him: Well, you need to get your head and your heart to tell your tummy to be righteous.

What I wish I had told him: You know, sometimes being righteous is hard. But it's still important. Sometimes the things that are most important for us to do are the hardest.

I'm learning so much from him.

Treasures Amongst the Stacks

We've been spending time perusing the juvenile non-fiction section of our local library lately. In addition to finding books about dinosaurs, French food, and the water cycle, we stumbled upon this gem.

I've already told Bryan that I want this for Christmas. It calls out to my theatre teacher side (there's a picture of the man who invented the proscenium arch!), my English teacher side (there are quotes from Shakespeare's plays and sonnets throughout the book, tucked into corners), and my big-ol' nerd side (it is about my good friend Will after all).

We also found this on our last library trip.


The pictures are stunning and the subject matter is moving. I do wonder sometimes if I'm introducing too many controversial topics with the picture books I choose, but the historical aspect of this book was too much to say no to.

Both books are a tad on the long side for young audiences, but if you read the books while your listeners are eating (and possibly strapped into a highchair), the chances of getting through them goes up dramatically. At least that's how it is at our house.

Hip To Be Square

Remember this? My friend exhibited an amazing amount of patience today and taught me some new crochet stitches and how to read a crochet pattern (I'm not even sure it was in English).

And look what I made!

It might be a crochet basic and I know it's not perfect, but I'm thoroughly impressed with myself.

And now the question: Will I be able to make another one?

Thanks for imparting your knowledge to me Charlynn!

All Boy

*WARNING: Potty-training story ahead, proceed at your own risk.*

I read a friend's status message on Facebook the other day that said something about her daughter wanting to potty-train that day, so she did. I'm not sure that Peter will ever be truly potty-trained. I mean, I hope he will (I think it would be awfully embarrassing to be in college and have your mom call to remind you to go to the bathroom), it's just hard to see that far ahead.

He may not be flying completely solo yet, but he is improving. He rarely has accidents during the day. That's progress. It might be because I prompt, prod, and implore whenever I realize it's been a few hours since he's gone to the bathroom. Just a guess.

I've heard horror stories about little boy's bathrooms. These are mostly due to *ahem* aiming issues. Peter has no problem hitting his mark. I thought this was great at first. It meant that I could send him into the bathroom by himself and not worry about having to wash down all the walls when he was done. However, Peter realized his awesome aiming power and decided it would be fun to purposely miss the toilet.

Not awesome.

We still dole out candy after he uses the toilet, but only when he reminds us, which is happening less and less. We had to make a rule, however, that if he ever relieved himself anywhere outside the toilet he would automatically lose his candy.

Last week Peter was using the Master bathroom and I was in my room pretending to do something else while listening to his progress through the door. You know, to make sure he was doing what he said he was going to do. Imagine my particular delight after the following exchange:

Peter: No candy, Mom.

Me: What?

Peter: I don't get any candy for using the toilet this time.

Me: (With rapidly growing apprehension about what I would find when I opened the bathroom door) Why?

Peter: Because I urinated in the trashcan by the toilet.

Oh boy...

Interviews

One willing participant:



One not:

Sing, Sing a Song

When I was ten I was asked to sing a solo in Sacrament Meeting. At that age I didn't have a sweet little-girl voice. I had a really loud lower-register. When I went to the pulpit to sing We'll Bring the World His Truth from the Children's Songbook I pushed the microphone all the way back, as I had done in practice the day before. I didn't want to deafen anyone. A member of the Bishopric quickly jumped up and moved the mic back in front of my mouth. I turned to look at him as I again moved it to it's farthest position. And then I sang. I think it was decent for a ten-year-old. I know it was loud. One little girl in my Primary class, who delighted in tormenting me, had one comment about the piece when she saw me later, "It certainly was loud, wasn't it?"

I decided as a youth that I would always say yes when I was asked to speak or sing in church. Sometimes this meant getting a phone call on Saturday night with a request to sing the next day. Thanks to an amazingly gifted pianist in the ward, we could usually pull something off. These days most of my vocal numbers are performed for the select audience of those living in my house.

Two weeks ago I got a call from a member of the Bishopric in our ward, telling me about a special Sacrament Meeting we would be having on October 11. He said it would be all about church music and would have several musical numbers. Then he asked if I would be the last musical number on the program, singing a hymn of my choice. I said that I had been sick, but I thought I would be better in two weeks and would love to sing.

And then I got sicker. And sicker...

And then I lost my voice.

Something funny about my voice: whenever I would lose it as a teenager, it would come back slightly different than it was before. I remember once getting my voice back after being sick and suddenly having lots more vibrato to keep in check. I was worried that 1) I wouldn't get my voice back in time to sing; and 2) if I did get it back, it would be something new that I wouldn't be sure how to handle.

The Bishopric member called back the following Friday to see if I'd picked a hymn and to tell me who my accompanist would be. After explaining why I sounded like a chain-smoker on the phone I told him that I had picked a song, I Believe in Christ, but that he might have to find someone else to sing it. He asked me to give it a few more days. If I still had no voice on Sunday, a week out, then he would find someone to replace me on the program. I agreed. Although I was sad at the prospect of not getting to sing, I didn't want to torture anyone with my croaking.

I was shocked during the Sunday afternoon session of General Conference when I realized that I was singing the congregational hymn and I didn't sound like someone driving over gravel. Maybe I would have a voice by the next Sunday.

All week I practiced the song. Using my limited piano skills, I plunked out the accompaniment at home with Peter on one side changing the settings on my keyboard and Cooper on the other pounding away at the keys in the bass clef. I'm not sure how productive those rehearsals were.

Yesterday I got to church early to practice one last time with my accompanist. I had warmed-up, but my cold had started trying to make a comeback the night before and I was feeling it again as I went through the number. My voice broke a few times and a cough overtook me at one point. I had been praying since I started practicing the song earlier in the week that I would have a voice and that the message of the song would be heard and felt by those listening. After that final practice I prayed harder. I turned my brain to the two choir numbers I would be singing and hoped that they would be enough to clear my voice.

The program was lovely. There were five musical numbers in all, including a men's choir that sang a beautiful arrangement of Ye Elder's of Israel. The Ward Music Chair spoke just before I sang. He talked about the power of music. Then he said that there was something he would never be brave enough to do: sing a solo. He said he was so excited for the soloist that would come next and asked that the congregation listen closely to the words the soloist would sing.

No pressure.

Actually, I was glad that he asked the congregation to focus on the words. It's my job as a singer to convey the message of the song, to do my best to make the words as clear as possible. If I sound lousy, then it's hard to focus on what I'm singing, just on how badly I'm doing it. On the flip side, if I'm preoccupied with how awesome I sound and on soaring notes and trills, the words get lost. I have to be good enough not to distract, but not so fancy with embellishments that I detract from what the Spirit is trying to teach. I prayed that I would have a voice and that I would be calm.

And then I sang.

I have a strong testimony that the Holy Ghost is a fabulous singer, because I have had help on many occasions. I am at my best when I remember that it's not about me, it's about how the music helps people feel the Spirit. That's how yesterday was. I hit the notes, my voice was clear, but more than that, people heard the sweet testimony of the Savior contained in the words of that song. I'm thankful for the chance I had to pull that particular talent out of it's box, dust it off, and use it for good.

Upside-Down

Our library offers Discovery Backpacks for check-out. These backpacks contain a few books, a game, and sometimes a toy. They are grouped based on subject matter. We've gotten backpacks about topics such as bridges, vehicles, and the alphabet.

For the last two weeks (usually just one, but I renewed the backpack so we wouldn't have to spew sick germs on everyone at the library) Peter has been enjoying the dinosaur backpack. It had a whopping four books, three dinosaur toys, and four small dinosaur jigsaw puzzles.

Peter loves doing little kid puzzles. You know the kind that I'm talking about. The ones with big shapes that fit into specific holes, usually painted to match the piece that you've just pulled out. He's a pro at these. He had never done a jigsaw puzzle before.


Turns out, Peter loves puzzles of the jigsaw variety too. This is the first one that he put together. He did it all by himself. All four were this size, just twelve pieces. He has spent hours doing these puzzles over the last few weeks. Each puzzle piece has a shape stamped onto the back (square, triangle, etc) so you can tell which pieces go together. At one point he discovered he could do the puzzles upside by putting like-shapes together. That hadn't occurred to me. I depend on the picture to tell me which piece goes where. What kind of intelligence does that take? Spatial?

A jigsaw puzzle is definitely going on Peter's Christmas list.

The Socratic Method

I'm hosting book club tonight. It's not actually at my house, but I picked the book and I'm leading the discussion.

I'm kind of nervous.

I went online to find discussion questions and instead came up with a bunch of negative reviews of the book I chose. Great. I'm reviewing the book today to try to come up with a handful of questions to get the group talking, but I'm worried I won't be able to come up with enough.

And so, I'm turning to you, my brilliant and well-read readers, for questions. Has anyone read the The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch and Jeffery Zaslow? What questions would you ask about it? Or, does anyone know of a good online source for discussion questions about literature?

Helping Hands

I tried to keep the house clean last week despite being ill. (I think a clean house helps me feel like I'm not a total invalid, although I probably should have rested instead of cleaning.) Over the course of the week a few loads of laundry were folded and put away. I usually fold laundry where ever the boys are playing. On Thursday the back of the couch housed our folded clothes because the boys were playing in the living room.

I had just folded two kitchen towels when Peter called from another room for help. Instead of putting the towels on the back of the couch to keep them folded and out of the reach of small hands, I just laid them on the seat.

On my way back in from helping Peter I met Cooper toddling out of the living room, folded towels in hand.

Me: Cooper, may I have those towels please?

Cooper: (Shakes his head no and holds the towels closer to his person.)

Me: Oh. Did you want to put them away yourself?

Cooper: (Nods his head yes and grins.)

Me: (Moving out of his way) Okay. Go ahead.

And then I followed him into the kitchen where he walked to the correct drawer, opened it, and stuffed in the now somewhat-wrinkled-but-nonetheless-put-away towels.

I love having a helper.

That Girl

Peter: (To Bryan, while listening to a talk about families during General Conference) Dad, did you pick that girl over there to marry?

Bryan: You mean Mommy?

Peter: Yeah.

Bryan: Yes, I picked her.

Peter: Oh.

I'm glad he got something out of Conference...

Spiritually Fed

I love General Conference.

Three major themes stood out to me this time:

1. Love (Love of God, love from God, love of your neighbor, love of your family)
2. Listening to and following the promptings of the Holy Ghost
3. Missionary work and service (These two go together in my head. Although service could also fit nicely with love.)

Elder Bednar's talk about holding family scripture study and Family Home Evening was what I had been praying about. Peter has never accused Cooper of "breathing my air" but I wouldn't be surprised to hear it sometime in the future. President Uchdorf's talk gave me my favorite quote of the Conference, "Though we are incomplete, God loves us completely."

Elder Oaks' talk about love and obedience to the law was timely for me. Peter has been having trouble with obedience lately. A LOT of trouble. There have been times in the past few weeks when I've felt so beaten by the constant disobedience that I've thought, "It would be so much easier to just let him do what he wants and not insist that he obey." I would usually insist anyway, but the mental debate would rage on. Elder Oaks' talk was a solid reminder that truly loving your child means teaching them the eternal importance of obeying God's laws, which begins with obeying mom and dad's simple house rules.

Bold. That's the word that best describes Elder Holland's talk. He declared a bold testimony of the truthfulness and divinity of the Book of Mormon. I was also touched by his thanks to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir at the beginning of his talk. I have a strong testimony of the power of sacred music and I love that he pointed out the importance of the teachings in O Divine Redeemer.

Yesterday morning during breakfast the boys and I read about Lehi's vision of the tree of life and the iron rod. Imagine Peter's delight to hear that story recounted in two talks later in the day. When I heard Sister Dibb start to share Lehi's vision I asked Peter what she was talking about. He knew. It was the story of Lehi from our scriptures. I wonder if I would have paid as much attention to that section if I hadn't read it to the boys.

I didn't put up any decorations. I was too busy listening.

Pumpkins and Spiders and Candy, Oh My!

Pumpkins have been appearing on our neighbors doorsteps. There are cobwebs and giant foam spiders on one balcony in our complex. All of the grocery stores are stocked with candy and costumes. Do you know what all of these things mean? That's right, it's time for General Conference!

When I was in college I would get really excited about decorating for holidays. I think it was because I was always a little sad about the end of Summer. Putting up awesome (and by awesome, I mean whatever I could find for cheap at ShopKo and DI) decorations helped remind me about the redeeming aspects of the season. I had to make a rule for myself not to put up Halloween decorations on September 21 (or whenever the Autumnal Equinox fell). My rule: I couldn't put up any decorations until General Conference weekend. After many years I think I've made peace with Fall. But I've kept the rule.

Now that the wonderful weekend is upon us, I'm not sure I want to put up any Halloween decorations. I think I'd rather focus on the talks that I'll be hearing during General Conference. And I've discovered something recently: I like having a clean, uncluttered house. Decorations might feel more like litter than anything else.

I'll probably change my mind once Peter asks to hang our pumpkin lights.

Happy October

Fifth day of illness + foggy sick brain + goal to post something every weekday this year = another video from YouTube

At least it's seasonally appropriate...