More Allie-isms

While my parents were here last week, my dad decided to question Allie a bit. "Allie, who is the smartest person you know?"

Without hesitation, she responded, "I am." So telling, isn't it?

My dad and I laughed, and he couldn't resist another question. "Who is the silliest person you know?"

"Uncle Evan." Our eyes went wide. Just one more question...

"Who is the strongest person you know?"

"My dad." Must be all that Cross-fit.



In our Christmas morning family tradition of giving a gift to Jesus, we invited the girls to actually do more this year than just scribble on a piece of paper. After a few dead-end questions to Allie we finally got a good answer by asking her, "How can we show Jesus we love Him?"

"By being nice," she replied.

"That's right, Allie! Who can we be nice to?"

"To Sami... and to you, Mom! And to Dad, too!"

We nodded. "And you can be nice to Baby Drew, too."

I love her honesty. "But I'm already nice to Drew."

Christmas Getting-to-know-you Game

Thanks, Jill M.!

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags? For Christmas... I have to use wrapping paper.
2. Artificial or real tree? Real. Although, we've had an artificial tree for the past eight years. Today that will all change! :)
3. When do you put up a tree? Artificial-- day after Thanksgiving. Real-- today. :)
4. When do you take it down? 1st of January
5. Do you like eggnog? As long as it's low fat.
6. Favorite gift received as a child? A Cabbage Patch Doll
7. Hardest person to buy for? My brother
8. Easiest person to buy for? Kevin
9. Do you have a nativity scene? Yup.
10. Mail or email Christmas cards? I do both.
11. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Christmas gifts have been fine... but I did receive a pack of plain white underwear from a friend at my 9th birthday slumber party... and it wasn't a joke gift! My friend was pretty embarrassed, because her mom went and bought it without her knowing. I think she even cried. I felt worse for her!
12. Favorite Christmas Movie? White Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas, A Christmas Story
13. When do you start shopping for Christmas? October-ish
14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present? I don't think so, but I can't really remember.
15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas time? Chocolate Almond Brittle
16. Lights on the tree? I'm cool with either white or colored. Kev prefers white, though, so that's what we have.
17. Favorite Christmas song? The Christmas Song, Silent Night, O Holy Night, Coventry Carol, etc. (the list really goes on... and on)
18. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Stay home through Christmas day, and THEN we can travel.
19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer? Yes
20. Angel on the tree top or a star? Star
21. Open presents on Christmas Eve or morning? PJ's on Christmas Eve, and all the rest Christmas morning.
22. Most annoying thing about this time of the year? Busy stores
23. Favorite Ornament theme or color? No theme
24. What do you want for Christmas this year? A healthy family (especially the new baby)

I tag: Ronnie, Heather, Rachelle

The Last Prego Pics

Kevin took these pictures yesterday.

In the words of 14-year-old Steven from church, "Nice beer belly, Sister Smith."


That poor kid is seriously rolled up into one big ball. Between my narrow hips and relatively short torso, he has no place to go!



I had him take one from behind merely because so many people have commented about how funny it is that from behind I don't even look pregnant. Yes, I have gained some weight, but I have to remind myself that's healthy during pregnancy. :)

Little Singers

The Primary program at church was today. I enjoyed being able to actually sit in the congregation and relax, as opposed to playing the piano or making sure my class behaved. The two best parts of the program for me, though, had to do with Allie and Sami.

Several months ago, the chorister Genny Stephenson taught the kids "I Love to See the Temple." She learned and then taught them the sign language to the first verse. One Sunday, just for the heck of it, she asked Allie to sing the verse while everyone else signed. She said it was so sweet that she had to incorporate it. So, Allie sang her first solo today. She had been in a bad mood earlier in the morning, and I was just praying that she wouldn't let that affect her desire to sing. Her time came, and she climbed up the step at the podium as the introduction began. I held my breath as her cue came... and then she sang... clearly and beautifully, without the slightest hint of shyness or self-consciousness, missing tooth and all. I beamed at our sweet girl with the precious little voice. I love hearing children sing, but it's a special treat when the children are your own. After the meeting, the girl was showered with compliments. Linda Samuels was especially touched, wishing that all young women could maintain that strength of testimony displayed by someone so young. I thought it a beautiful thing that Allie's sweet voice could invite the Spirit into the meeting in such a way.

And then twenty minutes later, the congregation joined the Primary in singing two verses of "I Am a Child of God." While Sami had enjoyed having Mom and Dad's undivided attention down in the pew, and I could tell she really would have enjoyed singing with the kids-- she hummed all the songs anyway. So the fact that she got to sing the closing song was a real treat for her. And she let it fly! I couldn't help but laugh as she belted out each word, and being near the front the bishop heard and smiled. Everyone around us heard, too. Boy was she ever proud.

We have pretty neat kids.

All I Want for Christmas is my... Lateral Incisor?

Poor Allie. Poor me. Actually, I would say this whole situation traumatized me more than Allie, even though she's the one who lost her tooth. And here I thought she would lose her first tooth the normal way-- you know, in a couple years a tooth would start to wiggle, and she'd play with it with her tongue until it fell out on its own. A nice and easy visit from the tooth fairy. I never thought the tooth fairy would smack her in the face. Well, actually it was the coffee table that did that.

After lunch yesterday the girls ran to Allie's room where they giggled and played. Since they weren't fighting I went in to my room to relax for a minute at the computer. I guess they had started to run around the house, Allie chasing Sami as usual, since Sami loves to be chased. Sami's giggle grew louder as she ran toward my room, the laughter followed by a deafening BANG! Then silence. I knew the noise had been something whacking the coffee table, and although it sounded like a baseball bat, I knew better and just prayed it wasn't Allie's head. I ran out to the living room. Allie knelt by the table, her hand cupped over her mouth, and she began screaming. Hurrying to her side, I pulled her hand away from her mouth to find gushing blood. After gently looking under her upper lip, I saw that her right lateral incisor (thanks, Mom, for the dental term) had been smashed in. It was still there, but not in the right place, with the gums already clotting and turning purple.

It took me a moment to come to my senses really. My heart sank and I cringed at the thought of what had just happened to my baby's face... and of what could have happened. Sami stood crying at the sight of Allie's injury, and I ran to the kitchen to grab a paper towel for Allie to hold at her mouth until I could grab a rag from our bathroom. I told her we'd have to go to the Emergency Room. And then I noticed Allie was dancing while I spoke to her.

"Allie, do you have to go to the bathroom?"

"Uh-huh," she whimpered, tears staining her cheeks.

"Darn it, Allie! Why do you always wait so long? Come on." I was a wee bit stressed out at that point, and she was slightly incapacitated, so I just did everything for her, with the exception of actually peeing.

I paged Kevin to fill him in on where we were going and what happened, and then got the girls shoes on them. We were about to leave when I realized we needed to pray. I asked Allie if she'd like to pray. Again, she responded with, "Uh-huh." I grabbed a girl in each arm, and we embraced as I prayed. I wish I had thought of that a little bit sooner, because that's really what helped me calm down.

We got in the van and drove to Holmes, Allie occasionally crying when something outside the car, like a book store or a pedestrian, wasn't holding her attention.

After parking and walking into the ER, we found it pretty much empty. I took a good glance around just to make sure that it really was as desolate as it seemed, and I sighed in relief. It took a good twenty to thirty minutes to get all the information needed to get her into a room to be examined, but she sat patiently holding the rag to her mouth. The girls were given little hand-sewn teddy bears-- for Allie, hers has become nearly as important and cherished as her Tiger.

In the room, the nurse turned the TV onto the PBS cartoons, which held the girls attention while their overwhelmed mama slipped out into the hallway to cry silently. The nurse had explained to me that there wasn't anything they could do for her teeth, and that I'd have to take Allie to a dentist. All they could do there was stitch up the wound inside her lip.

"She has a dentist, right?" The nurse had asked. Yeah, so that was on my to-do list for this month-- find her a dentist and take her to her first cleaning. Still hadn't done it. But now this had to be her first trip to the dentist. I was discouraged at the thought of calling my own dentist for fear the office staff would say she'd have to be in pain for two days until she could be seen. And then I thought about how she was missing her dance class at that moment (something which would devastate Allie upon realization of the fact), and I remembered about the solo she was to excited to sing in church this coming Sunday. I wiped the tears from my eyes and glanced back in the room at my sweet, innocent babies. Allie suddenly seemed so small, so young-- too young to be going through something so awful.

And then Kevin showed up, concerned at the sight of tears on my face. Poor guy just didn't understand why I was standing in the hall crying. He went in to talk lovingly to Allie, rubbing her soft head. Of course she was zoned out on the cartoon, and I don't think caught a word of what Dad was saying.

The nurse was a bit delayed in stitching up Allie due to a car accident that had brought in a few injured teenagers. But soon she came back with another male attendant. He held Allie's head while the nurse gave Allie's lip a numbing shot. Again, Allie was too much into Dragon Tales that she didn't make a sound. After finishing the stitches, the nurse went to get a list of some dentists to call while the attendant named Sam grabbed a couple Popsicles for the girls to munch on. Kevin went to the desk to see if they could look up Dr. Artley's phone number, Dr. Artley being our dentist. I had no idea if he took children, but I thought I'd check. The receptionist told me over the phone to just bring Allie in, so after being released that's what we did.

Dr. Artley looked at her teeth and took some x-rays. He could tell the tooth was so loose it would eventually fall out-- no point in trying to save a baby tooth anyway, with all the pain Allie would have to go through for that to happen. He suggested we just pull it, so that's what we had him do. He warned us about the shot, so while he prepped, I took a moment and explained the situation to Allie-- that the dentist would need to pull the tooth out, but to do that he would have to give her an ouchy shot, but it wouldn't last long. I asked the nurse to put a movie in for Allie to watch, which she did quite willingly. And then Dr. Artley came over with the syringe. I looked away until Allie started crying and then leaned down and grabbed her hand and held it tightly, kissing her head. That brave little girl held completely still the entire time. The actual tooth extraction took maybe ten seconds, and then our fat-lipped baby was done, with a big wad of gauze stuffed in her mouth.

I was so proud of that little girl-- to have gone through such physical trauma that afternoon without complaining. I don't consider crying to be complaining-- crying is therapeutic and healthy, complaining is just annoying. The ER nurse said Allie was her best patient of the day by far, and Dr. Artley was stunned by Allie's tolerance and patience, especially since she's only 4 1/2 years old. The hygienist put Allie's extracted tooth into a little tooth locket she could keep and wear.

Last night after her oatmeal dinner, she got in the bath happy as a clam, occasionally popping up to look at her "silly smile" in the mirror. After that, she's ask us every ten minutes if we wanted to see her tooth, and we'd excitedly declare we did. We informed her about the tooth fairy, and she faithfully put her tooth under her pillow in anticipation of getting money. Kevin slipped two quarters under there while she slept later that night. This morning we asked her if she got any money, and she said no-- that she only got a couple quarters. She thought it was cool when we told her that quarters were money.

She ended up going to school, too. Couldn't miss the annual preschool Thanksgiving feast of healthy kiddie snacks! She proudly shared her toothy smile with the faculty, and they pretended to be excited for her, while they glanced over at me in pity. I could see it in their eyes. Poor baby.

And then, what did Allie do when we got to school, with her jumping out of the van to run to the sidewalk? Tripped.

I almost had an aneurysm.

Just One More Time on my Soapbox

Okay, I just have to write about this because I feel like my brain is going to explode.

Call me naive, but I had no idea the Church would have to endure so much serious persecution because of this whole California Prop 8 thing. The Mormons weren't the only ones involved in defending the traditional family. Yet, we are the ones being targeted.

People have been protesting out in front of California temples, hatefully harassing members trying to enter. They've been sitting on the wall surrounding the LA temple, telling members to go back to Utah, even vandalizing the wall. Outside the San Diego temple, one hospice nurse attended the protest with her husband and son, commenting how she didn't understand how a church that had endured so much persecution in the past could be so "oppressive." Are you kidding me? For peacefully standing up for our beliefs?

Okay, let's get this straight. The early members of the Church were persecuted for standing up their beliefs. Those that persecuted them were not peaceful when they threatened them, burned their homes, ran them out of town, killed them, and tarred and feathered them. It was hateful. How much of that did anyone see Church members doing in their quest to encourage the passing of Prop 8? Hateful and oppressive? I don't think so.

Now, look at the flip-side. How much hate is emanating from those who are angry that Prop 8 did pass? Just as the early members of the Church, current members are being targeted for standing up for their beliefs. So, who's being oppressive?

According to quotes I've read, some homosexuals want to do everything they can to ruin heterosexual weddings, protesting at them or sabotaging them. I read of one person wanting to "take out" those from a long list of Mormons and Catholics who had contributed heavily to the "Yes on 8" campaign.

If Prop 8 had not passed, how many Mormons would you have seen protesting outside homosexual weddings? Probably none. They have better things to do. And they would have known that they did all they could, and would have moved on-- not protesting and making a pathetic scene. In the LDS-way, members still would have pressed on faithfully living the principles of the gospel.

Now of course, protesting is a right and privilege, but how much good does it do when it's filled with anger, hate, and lies? Or when people are made to feel unworthy and inferior because of their beliefs? Homosexuals might make the same argument against those that voted in favor of Prop 8. BUT our beef had nothing to do with the worth of a group of individuals. We know each and every soul is valuable and loved and is deserving of kindness and respect. We all are obligated to tolerate the sinner (as we all are such), but NOT the sin. And in this case, allowing gay marriage would infringe upon freedom of religion. Right now, homosexuals and the ACLU are filing lawsuits against the state, BUT how many would be filing lawsuits against the Church right now if Prop 8 had not passed? Since the Church will not marry homosexual couples, I'll bet the Church would be dealing with a good number of such lawsuits. And then would our temples be restricted from performing any marriages? Members needing to marry civilly first, then entering the temple later to be sealed? Would members not even be able to marry in our church buildings for the same reasons? It's possible, because the Church will NOT compromise principles. What a waste of money and time!

Besides, as it is in California, homosexuals have all the same visitation and inheritance rights as a married couple. They have "civil unions," but they just can't call themselves married. So what? Besides, they have the same right to marry as anybody... as long as the person they choose is of the opposite sex. And I, too, am restricted from marrying a lesbian. The difference is that I just don't have to deal with same-gender attraction, and many others do. Sadly, just as it is with any vice any one of us has to overcome, it's not something to embrace, but rather to fight and endure. Some may even conquer, but not all.

I doubt anyone will read this, and I hope nothing here offends anyone who actually does. But I needed to get all this off my chest-- I think Kev's sick of hearing me ranting and raving around the house.

Crazy 8's

I was tagged by Janet... :)

8 Things I am obsessed about right now:
1. Getting Allie to remember that she can poop in the toilet
2. Figuring out how to stop Sami's constant whining
3. Getting Sami out of her room and into Allie's (to make room for the baby)
4. Making sure I don't eat too much
5. Ward music (especially for December)
6. Making sure our house is clean enough for my mom when she comes next month
7. Figuring out what the heck to name a boy!
8. Will Blogger work for me tomorrow?

8 Words or Phrases I use:
1. Girlies
2. For Pete's sake!
3. Right on
4. Dude
5. Homey
6. I dunno
7. Hon
9. Darlin'
8. Little turkey

8 TV shows you love to watch:
1. Numbers
2. Lost
3. 20/20 (But only if it's a John Stossel one. That guy rocks my world!)
4. The Dr. Oz episodes of Oprah (while I'm folding laundry at night)
5. Wow, I don't watch much TV anymore...
6.
7.
8.

8 Things I did yesterday:
1. Went to the beach
2. Spent 2 1/2 hours at some time share sales pitch
3. Went to a chocolate factory
4. Met a family from Minnesota and went to dinner with them
5. Endured Sami's whining
6. Went to a used book store
7. Dug for clams
8. Hung out at the Daytona Ocean Walk

8 Favorite Places to Eat:
1. Ottavio's (Provo Italian restaurant)
2. Los Compadres (San Diego taco shop)
3. Casa de Bandini (San Diego Mexican restaurant)
4. Skewer's
5. P.F. Chang's
6. Outback Steakhouse
7. Mighty Mushroom
8. Woody's BBQ

I tag: Erika
Rachelle

"Barack Obana"

Yesterday I informed Allie that I went to vote while she went to school. She said, "Mom, did you vote for John McCain?"

"Yes I did, Allie."

Then looking over at the newspaper and the pictures of both candidates, she said, "I want to vote for Barack Obana."

"Oh, really. Why do you want to vote for Barack Obama, Allie?"

Her mouth stretched into a goofy grin. "Because he's funny-- he has such a silly smile! Look at him!"

She seemed satisfied this morning when I told her Barack Obama did indeed win. She asked, "Did John McCain win, too?"

I guess she hasn't figured out that we only need (and want) one president.

It's Hardly the End of the World

So Obama won. Apparently the majority of Americans disagreed with people like me-- they really want a trip to the doctor to be like a trip to the DMV, or want government to steal (and yes, I do believe it's stealing) money from the wealthy to give to the poor ("We're gonna force those greedy bloodsuckers to be charitable, dagnabit!"), or believe that government really does know how to spend our money better than we do.

Okay. I can accept that. We as a nation will learn over the next four years what all that really does for us. At least we know it's going to be darn difficult for the Democrats to blame everything that goes wrong on the Republicans. They'll find a way, of course, since blaming is what politicians do best, but it ain't going to be easy. They'll have to get a bit creative.

But I'm not depressed, crying in my root beer. I'm just darn grateful that we don't vote for one's life-term. It's only four years. Yes, a lot can happen in four years. But again, it's only four years. It's not the end of the world. I really don't believe that in four years we will turn into a communist nation, or even a true socialist nation. Obviously the American people wanted some serious change, and we'll see if the change we get is really the change they wanted.

I am comforted knowing, though, that I still have my family, my Church, and my God. What happens in those realms government can't (and won't, I believe) touch. The American people won't allow that. Kevin and I can still bring our children up with true principles and correct morals, attend church and the temple, and pray to our God. Our home will remain our sanctuary. I have no doubts about that.

Yes, I do wish that more of the American people had not been so deperate for change that they would go for Obama's ideas of such, but I've voted and done my part, so there's nothing I can do about it now... except respect him as the next president of the United States. We will pray for him, just as we have done for President Bush. Whining about it will just make us bitter and angry. Plus, as I mentioned before, we still have ultimate control over our little family unit. It's not like China, where some government official is going to steal away for life one of our toddlers with Olympic potential (wow, am I grateful to be here!).

Although I have told Kevin, that we had better do something darn fun on my birthday next year.*


* My birthday is January 20th, for those that didn't know.**

** January 20th is always Inauguration Day, for those that didn't know that either.

Of all the places to tatoo yourself, Sami...

Kevin was too busy carving the pumpkin (and I was busy cleaning the seeds) to notice Sami had taken the blue marker he had been using . Apparently she thought it would be a good idea to apply it to her lips just as skillfully as she applies Chapstick.

In the Past Month...

As for now, Blogger is letting me in again. I'm just mentally preparing for the day it will kick me out. If I suddenly stop blogging again, you'll know why.

Is everyone ready for the "big vote" on Tuesday? Maybe some of you have already participated in early voting or have sent in absentee ballots. I'm starting to regret not having done either of those, since I'm anticipating the line to be insane. And then I'll have to try to keep little Sami entertained the whole time. Thankfully, Allie will be in school, so I won't have to worry about having to break up cat fights... unless someone tries to pick one with me. But who would pick a fight with a pregnant lady? How pathetic would that be?

But anyhow, I need to do some more studying up on local candidates... which really is a joke. For the most part, the only thing I ever know about the candidates is their name, and that's only because of the millions of annoying signs posted all over town. Their websites say nothing but "fluff." These people are just so difficult to research. And then don't get me started on the lingo used for the proposed amendments. Sure, we get a sample ballot in the mail so we can make a decision before we get to the polls, but it's difficult to make a decision when I can't decipher the meaning. What am I missing? Do I need an Ovaltine Little Orphan Annie Secret Decoder Pen or something?

Well, I suppose I should actually talk about what happened this past month.

We made one of our last day trips to Sea World. The girls had three goals-- to see Shamu, play in the water, and ride the roller coaster (okay, so Sami's too little for that one). They achieved their goals just for Allie to exclaim after the Shamu show, "Where was the girl in the pink swimsuit?" Pink swimsuit? Oh, that's Blue Horizons, the dolphin show. Turns out she really hadn't cared to see Shamu at all, she just wanted to see the dolphin show with the "girl in the pink swimsuit." Oops. Maybe next time. But I think she was fine with Shamu.

I got to take the girls to the pumpkin patch down the street. We go there every year, but this year I took them during the day with a bunch of other moms and kids from Allie's school to participate in their little "field trip." We all went on a hayride (thankfully another mother had mosquito repellant wipes on hand), they read the kids stories and gave them drinks, and finished it off with a small pumpkin and "goodie bag" to take home. It was a hot afternoon (and I had decided to wear black of all colors) and the girls got a bit sunburned, but they really did have a blast. We went back in the evening the next week so we could pick out a family pumpkin with Kev.

We carved the pumpkin last Monday night for Family Home Evening, which always ends up being a ton more work for Kev and me while the girls just run around like maniacs. But this time, we let Allie get a little more involved by designing the jack-o-lantern's face. Kevin modified it slightly, since Allie wanted a silly face and her idea of a "silly" mouth was drawing a tangle of squiggles. But the rest of it was pretty true to Allie's design. Our little artist. She sure is proud of her works of art, and why shouldn't she be? The bold colors, heavy Van-Gogh-like strokes with her crayons... Her art is 100% Allie, true to the intensity within.

And speaking of "100% Allie," the little Miss was once again a princess for Halloween, as was her sister. That's three years in a row for Allie, and two for Sam. Allie wanted to wear her Snow White dress, so we went and got her some glittery red shoes shoes from Target to match, as well as a red ribbon for her hair from JoAnn's. Sami wanted to be Princess Anneliese from Barbie in Princess and the Pauper. It could have been complicated, if Allie hadn't already owned a pink princess dress and a gold crown. Perfect! As for Kev and me, we used the ward's basketball jerseys and dressed as BYU Intramural basketball players. A pregnant woman running down the court there is not unusual. In fact, I distinctly remember the last intramural volleyball team I played on-- all but two were pregnant... and we made it to the championship game. Of course, we were in the lowest division... and the single's ward we played creamed us, but it's not like no one saw that coming. Come on! Yup, only at BYU.

The girls went to a few houses in the neighborhood, and then we went to the Trunk-or-Treat at the church building. We had game in the back of the van (oh yeah, we got a van-- anyone want to buy a '99 Subaru?) where kids could earn two pieces of candy by throwing these fuzzy tennis balls at a Velcro target and getting a bulls eye. It amazed me how many kids really wanted to try it. We had a line of kids waiting their turn oftentimes. I love stuff like that.

The girls got loaded up on candy, and had a blast showing off their beautiful costumes. Kevin and I now just need to make sure we don't sneak all their candy, which is sitting on top of the fridge. We've been pretty good, though, and it's harder for Kev than for me, since he's the one with the major sweet tooth. He really has honed his will-power over the past year or so. I've been impressed with his will to resist the sweets. Of course, it helps that I just don't buy them.

Well, I had better go get Sami up from her nap.

Criticism-- the Great Limiter

I wrote this on October 6th, but was unable to access Blogger to post it. So, here you go...

The other night I was watching Oprah. Not that this is a regular occurrence, because it’s not. I really don’t watch her show that much, mainly because I can’t stand the way so many women literally worship her. But I have to say she has some interesting topics for her shows… and I do like her.

This time it was about women, and mothers in particular, who feel overwhelmed by life and the responsibilities and expectations that follow them. Or should I say haunt them? I sat down to watch while folding laundry when there was only about twenty minutes left in the show. They interviewed women in the audience and women by phone, collecting their stories of the near-disasters that occurred in their homes with their children all because the poor women were feeling more than spent. They had nothing left to give at that point. I’ve felt like that, so I could relate, feeling their pain as I listened to the stories of the babies nearly strangling themselves on a telephone chord or the mother contemplating running out of the bathroom “just for a second” to grab her Blackberry while her baby sat in the bathtub. But something at the very end got to me.

I heard, “Why do women criticize each other? We are so harsh, when really we need each other’s support so much more.”

Easy.

Women tend to be so much more aware and ashamed of our weaknesses. We find evidence of them each day, as we see ourselves failing to meet the expectations set by ourselves when it comes to fulfilling everyone’s needs. There’s this unspoken rule of womanhood and motherhood that we need to be everything to everyone, and that we need to do that perfectly. But we can’t do it perfectly—we’d never be able to. And it eats us alive.

Women are critical of each other because it brings validation of their owns strengths. Women point out weaknesses in others, which to them are strengths. And for just a moment, they feel perfect. They know they are not, but no matter. I honestly don’t believe that most women are trying to be cruel or vengeful in their criticisms, but they are attempting to bring themselves up on a little bit higher plane. If they can feel they’re a better mother than someone else, then just maybe they’ve succeeded. And the more one criticizes, perhaps the more insecure she feels and the more validation she is seeking, that’s what I say.

But I’m not going to say I don’t take part in this—that would be lying. I just try really, really hard to keep those unproductive criticisms in my head. Hold your tongue, Krissy, I tell myself, It’s not worth it.

What we all fail to remember, though, is that this thing called life is not a race. It’s not a contest. No one is going to hand us some huge gold medal at the pearly gates for being the “best mother on earth.” No one will put us in ranks. We are women. We are mothers. Our responsibilities are never-ending, but our capacity to tackle them, while great, is also limited. This is something we just need to accept, not fear. Accepting it empowers, fearing it limits us.

We all have strengths to counter our weaknesses. Looking as those strengths humbly, knowing they come ultimately from God will give us no reason to criticize other women who are trying just as hard to “do it all” as we are. We will understand that all have their own strengths, and all have their own weaknesses. And in spite of our weaknesses, which God has given us to promote growth (and humility), He trusts that with our sincere effort and with His help, we can do it, we can make it. Our kids really can grow up happy and healthy, and we can be successful contributors to society, in spite of our many mistakes.

As we come to realize this, does that mean we won’t ever criticize? Probably not. But at least we can learn to tell ourselves, Hold your tongue. It’s just not worth it.

And then there’s always the consolation that we have all eternity to develop perfect charity, but this is a start.

Just the Facts

Okay, I'm pretty sure everyone knows I have conservative political views. If not, well, now you do. I have listened to Obama, read liberal blogs, listened to a bit of conservative talk radio, read the newspaper... I may not be super knowledgeable, but I know enough to have an opinion that I disagree with Obama on...well... nearly everything.

But in spite of that, do you what really bothers me? I have gotten email after email about how Obama shouldn't be the president because he's a Muslim (which he's not, by the way), or how he is the anti-Christ, or how we shouldn't vote for him because he doesn't believe we're a Christian nation, which by the way I don't either-- we were founded on Christian principles by Christian men not to be a Christian nation, but rather to be a place free from religious tyranny where all could worship God as they please, and I think it's a beautiful thing that our country welcomes all religions (if not, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints would not exist-- we may know we're Christian, but all too many do not agree). Declaring our country to have a national religion is exactly what our forefathers were trying to flee.

If you have been one to send me one of these emails, know that I still love you. I still respect you. Please forgive me for my boldness.

But here's my point... Shouldn't we be voting according a candidate's policies and philosophies? I want to get opinions based on solid facts, perhaps even with references. I don't want hearsay or speculation regarding a candidate's stance with God. And in my opinion, stuff like that just gives liberals more ammo about how conservatives are religious wackos.

So in the words of Joe Friday, "All we want are the facts, ma'am."

It happened again...

I'm at the library right now, logging in merely to let you all know that until further notice, I can't access my blog from the house. So, I won't be blogging for a while. Sorry, dudes.

Allie's Dance Camp

Here's a video of Allie (second from left-- notice how she has no shoes :)-- see "Missed the Boat" post) doing the doll's dance she learned in dance camp during the past two weeks. This is only half her class-- they "performed" the dance for the parents on the last day, Thursday, in two groups. What cute little girls!

At the end of every one of the six classes, the teacher gave the girls time for free dance... which is something our free-spirited little Allie really needed-- that time to really break out and do the "fancy" stuff she was wanting to do. By the way, have you noticed Sami's little exclamations here and there? She wanted to be a part of it all so badly, poor thing. Maybe next year...

Missed the Boat

Oh, darn it, I hate days like this! Days where I wake up and one little incident sets me off and puts me in a horrible mood for the rest of the day. Of course, I completely realize it's all my fault, which makes it all the worse. Will I ever get this mothering thing right? Sure doesn't seem like it often times, with all I do to fail miserably.

Allie lost her ballet slippers this morning (of course I just found them thirty minutes ago, but that's beside the point), the morning of her last day of dance camp, which included a little recital. Somehow she misplaced them, and except for looking in two places she refused to look for them ALL MORNING, and preferred to just sit and pout or cry because "they were gone!" not to mention I was darn angry. I'll admit, I threw my own fit about it, ranting and raving about how I had to get myself ready and that she needed to get off her duff and start looking, and then I had a good cry. I did apologize to her, but I'm still in a really bad mood. I tried to be positive during her class, but she just messed around the entire time-- jumping like a maniac, unable to maintain focus for more than thirty seconds, making faces at the other kids or me. Ugh. It didn't help that after I get us all buckled in the car to go home, and am pulling out of my parking space, that Allie declares with a gasp, "My necklace!" She had worn her butterfly necklace to class (even though I tell her "no jewelry") and the teacher had her take it off and set it aside. So, we had re-park and all get out of the car to go back to the second floor and retrieve her necklace.

Having already been in a bad mood, this did not help.

So just now as I was going about the house, picking up toys and magazines, I lifted up two copies of The Friend from the banana chair seat to see those darn ballet slippers. I quietly took them in to Allie, and she clasped her hands by her heart in joy. I held my arms out and she wrapped her little arms around me in a tight hug, grinning that cute, cheesy little grin of hers. I left the room, and it occurred to me where I went wrong this morning (besides the fact that I threw a fit). I'm sure many of you moms out there have already figured it out.

How many times do we read in church magazines or hear conference talks relating experiences where the mother taught the child in such a situation to pray for help and guidance? Sure, they were only ballet slippers, but they were important to Allie... and to me apparently. Instead of calmly suggesting we pray for help and then go searching with a clear head receptive to the Spirit's promptings, I chose to get angry and nag the poor child. Way to go, Mom. When I realized this, I doubled over and bawled. I totally missed an opportunity to teach the power of prayer. I'm sure the opportunity will come again, but I tend to beat myself up whenever I mess up... which means I spend my life black and blue.

I just need to put it all behind me, and be determined that I won't make the same mistake next time. Can't guarantee it, but at least I can be more conscientious about it.

Called to Serve

I bore my testimony in Sacrament Meeting yesterday, having been really touched my the testimony born of a young man who attended Scout Camp with Kevin last week. This 12-year-old got up to the podium of his own free will and expressed his gratitude for the wonderful experience he had at Scout Camp. Did he talk about the hatchet throwing or swimming or canoeing? No, he talked about the scripture study their troop had together each night and how that really strengthened him. Wow. Suddenly it was all worth it. I knew that allowing Kevin to be gone for a week at camp, which took up a week of vacation time, was a sacrifice that was well worth it if it is building young testimonies preparing them to be determined missionaries and wonderful fathers and leaders in the future. They needed him. And while I kind of like having him around here, I get him all the time, but those boys don't get these camp experiences everyday.

And, really, that is what church service is all about-- building the kingdom by strengthening those that are its foundation. I'm often asked by those that aren't of our faith, "Why can't you just say 'no'? You don't have to do it." I'm not offended by this in the least, because I realize they just don't understand. They don't understand that while I can say no, and while I realize I don't have to do anything, I want to serve. And I want to serve because I know the gospel is true. I know that the true gospel, the organization of the Church, and the Priesthood were all restored by the Lord through Joseph Smith. And because of that, because the Spirit has testified to me that Joseph did indeed see God the Father and Jesus Christ, I know that my Savior, my Redeemer lives. If I didn't, I wouldn't have any desire to accept callings of service with the thought that I wouldn't get anything in return, that it would just be taking up time.

Truthfully though, while I know such callings are a sacrifice of time or maybe even money at times, the rewards come in blessings-- blessings of increased compassion for others, or perhaps developed talents or skills that may have remained buried or undiscovered. But the best blessings of all come when you realize your efforts, with help from the Lord, have strengthened the testimony of another.

Nothing is more rewarding than that.

In the Past Month

This week really hasn't been as awful as I had anticipated. Wow, that probably sounds extremely pessimistic. In explanation, Kevin was away at Scout camp-- got back just after 11 o'clock Saturday morning, when the girls and I were at a birthday party. He left at about 4am Monday morning to meet the boys at the church and make the drive to La-No-Che. I never like this week, since it gets kind of lonely... adult-wise. I mean, it's hard to feel lonely with two firecrackers for daughters like ours around, but I do miss talking with Kevin about the day after the girls go to sleep. But to explain why it wasn't "as awful" as I thought it would be, I was just really busy. I had a million little errands to run in the afternoon, and in the morning I was running around from swimming lessons to dance camp for Allie. Then after getting the girls in bed, I had dishes and laundry folding to do. Kevin would call, I'd read my scriptures and say my prayers, and then it would be time for bed. And I was exhausted! My only downtime came during nap time after lunch where I would either crash myself, or have a chance to read emails or blogs or "window" internet shop. I really was much busier than usual, but, honestly, I think it was a little tender mercy from the Lord. He knows this week always seems long for me, and by keeping me unusually busy (beyond the norm) it went a lot faster for me and was much more tolerable. The girls and I had our moments of butting heads, but for the most part we really enjoyed each other, and I really don't think they got as sick of mom as I thought they would.

The three of us went to the Independence Day parade in Downtown Melbourne Friday morning. There was a lot of campaigning going on, which was great for the girls. With how much candy they got, it rivaled Halloween. Next time we'll bring Sami's plastic pumpkin. The Samuelses invited us over that night-- swimming in their pool, screaming in fear at their harmless little dog (the girls did, not me), wolfing hotdogs and hamburgers and homemade pie, watching movies, and, of course, lighting off fireworks. We spent nearly two hours out on the driveway, the young kids throwing harmless poppers at the concrete, and the big kids and adults lighting the "big boys" at the street. They do make me nervous, but it's all in good fun and Allie loved it. The fireworks they lit really were quite spectacular--had they been in California, the cops would have locked them up and thrown away the key. Yeah, they were that good. Of course, Sami didn't last thirty second outside with the noise and fire before bursting into tears and begging to go inside. Linda kindly carried her inside to watch a movie in their mini theater.

Kevin seemed really positive about his camp experience this year. His new Scout Committee chair, who is a dad to one of his Scouts, came for the whole week, too. Sure, the boys whined about having to do this or that (personally, I would have smacked them upside each of their heads had I been there-- I hate whining, especially from boys), but in the end they always took part, and I'll bet they enjoyed it. On Thursday, Kevin, along with two of his boys, participated in and completed the mile swim. They had woken up at 5:30 every morning until then to practice. I think it's great that Kevin did it, and I'm proud of him. I think it's really cool, though, that these young boys had the will to challenge themselves like that, and I'm sure they are feeling so much empowerment for it. I told one of their dads (who is our bishop) yesterday morning at our ward's holiday breakfast about his son having done it, and he was pretty proud of his boy. I just think it's great.

As I mentioned earlier, the girls have been in swimming lessons for the past month. Allie may not be the most graceful swimmer around (heck, she's only four), but she has no fear. She honestly believes she can swim really well, which can be scary-- she has this false sense of security in her abilities. But her teachers and I have worked hard to drill it into her that she needs to swim with an adult, and hold on to the side when the adult isn't looking. She's wild, man! This week was their last week of lessons for a while, and her teachers let her class jump off the diving board if they so had the desire. As I suspected, Allie was the first one on the board, having jumped off just as the teacher had put himself in position to grab her. The other kids were hesitant, not so sure about it, but Allie was in heaven, belly flops and all. I was bummed I didn't have my camera. Sami, on the other hand, lives life with a bit more caution than her sister. She and I swam together for the Parent/Tot class, and while she did have her bad days of clingy-ness and whiny-ness, she really did well overall and was very brave for the most part. And she may not jump in unless she's holding my hands, or won't want to go underwater unless I go too, but the fact is that she will do those things. But it is really cute when she turns to me in the water and declares, "I want to go under with you, Mom!"

Allie also started dance camp this past week. Was she ever excited! The morning of, I went in to her room to "wake her up," having found her already up dressed in her leotard, tights, ballet slippers, and a pink, sparkly tutu she had found among her dress-up clothes. The first day, I sat and watched her... and Sami bawled the whole time-- she wanted to dance, too. But Allie was hilarious to watch. She really thought she'd be doing the fancy stuff, but the teacher was teaching her things like (gasp) first position and pointing your toes. For shame! So, she would do as her teacher asked, then quickly break out of position to protest, "But I want to dance!" She wanted to get to the good stuff. Her teacher has a lot of patience.

Earlier in the month my little sister Mallory finally was able to come out for a visit. It was fun to have her around to talk with, and the girls loved her to pieces... which I don't think was only because she gave them a small present everyday. A little bribery never hurts now and then. :) We braved the beach one day with the girls, attended a Relief Society pool party, took the girls out to lunch a couple times, and helped them paint a plate and a bowl as Kevin's Father's Day gifts. At the end of the week, we made the drive to Disney's Animal Kingdom in Orlando, which was Mal's first choice of the parks-- neither of us had been there. We had a good time, but it felt more like an extremely commercialized zoo than anything. In the middle of the park, the designers put a gigantic tree covered in tribal-like animal carvings where, at the base, they showed a 3-D movie about bugs. Since Sami is terrified of bugs, we had avoided it until we decided we really wanted to go explore the tree. It wasn't until we were going in line for the movie that we realized it wasn't like the Swiss Family Robinson's tree house at Disneyland where you could actually explore independently. There was nothing to explore-- just the movie. I was hesitant, but then saw that the main character from A Bug's Life, Flik, was the "host" of the movie. I reasoned with myself, All right, if a cartoon character is hosting this movie, how scary could it be? Flik's motive in the computer-animated movie was to familiarize the audience with various bugs and their purposes. The catch? They were all poisonous or aggressive bugs, the first one introduced being a gigantic hairy spider that shoots balls of something at creatures it wants to capture and eat. Before the first "shot" had finished, Sami was crying and trembling, her head buried in my shoulder. It wasn't long before an acid-throwing termite made his way out, the seats in front of us spraying water all over us. Allie seemed to be getting a bit jumpy at this point. I looked around for an exit sign, but I couldn't find a single one, nor an employee to help me. Then a mechanical grasshopper appeared to the side of the screen, which brought on the screen a gigantic hand with a can of Raid (or similar) that spraying the "poison" in attempt to kill the grasshopper, meaning the room was filled with clouds of water vapor. By this point, Allie was screaming along with Sami, and I couldn't see anything to know how the heck to escape. Mallory was dying laughing at how terrified the girls were, and I was panicking because I was blinded by the vapor, and that stupid hand on screen kept spraying more Raid. Finally, when the fog lifted we ran to the side of the theater where a flashlight appeared out of the dark, and an employee led us to fresh air. This all happened two days before Father's Day, and the girls still talk about the monster (the grasshopper) at the Animal Kingdom. Wow, was that ever a bad idea!

Well, now that I've written a novel, maybe I should stop and let my fingers breathe.

What if...?

Our home teacher came over yesterday. He shared with us the month's message from the Ensign, an talk written by President Eyring, 1st counselor in the First Presidency of the Church. Our discussion of the safety and peace and blessings that come from heading our prophet's counsel somehow switched into a very lengthy discussion about being prepared for calamity. The members have been receiving the latter-day counsel to "be prepared" from every prophet, and perhaps that's how we got that point. For years, and more today than ever before, we have been taught to live within our means, get out of debt, work hard, have a short term and longer term food supply, and accrue savings. Our home teacher brought up an interesting point, though.

He said, "And you know that if something happens and our neighbors have no food, that they're going to say, 'Hey, those guys are Mormons-- they have stuff!' and they'll come to us!" A good reason to "warn" our neighbors-- to gently suggest they get something stored away... just in case.

Warn our neighbors? Hm. Had never occurred to me.

But really, what if something happens? What if the price of gas continues to rise so drastically that it's difficult to get to work, or even the grocery store? What if we lose our jobs for several months, or even a year? What if there's a terrible natural disaster and the grocery stores are closed for two weeks or more? What if there's another Black Tuesday? What if the Dust Bowl repeats itself? The questions could go on.

As our home teacher pointed out as well, people didn't go to bed on an October Monday night in 1929 knowing the stock market would crash the next day. Those who bought gas-guzzling trucks and SUVs a few years ago never thought the price of gas would go above four dollars.

Those who walked to their offices at the World Trade Center the morning of 9/11 would have never thought of the way their lives would end so tragically that day.

Calamity and difficulty strike when we don't expect it. And I'm not saying this to alarm. I'm just... well... keepin' it real.

And we certainly can't rely on our government to save us, nor should we.

But this is why President Eyring was reminding us that there is "safety in counsel." So no matter what hits us and when, that we need not fear because we are prepared, just as we have been told to be-- that inspite of the chaos surrounding us, we can be at peace with ourselves. We can be self-sufficient.

Our prophets have known what lies ahead, I am sure of it. Perhaps I, too, need to be more diligent in heeding their counsel. I know it is a warning from the Lord. (And on a side note, I personally think the best "insurance" one could ever have, comes from paying tithing. I and my parents have never lacked what we need, no matter the circumstances, and I truly believe it's from being obedient to that law.)

And even if you don't share my faith, is there any harm in being prepared? Can any of us really afford to "take our chances"?

I certainly can't.


For more information on emergency preparedness, see www.providentliving.org.

Scriptures

Lately we've been reading as a family about Rameumptom in the Book of Mormon, the tower where the Zoramites would take turns to stand and pray a very misguided prayer. Last night I was gone taking a test, so Kev read with the girls on his own. When I came home to find the girls had gone to sleep, I asked how the evening had gone. Kev smiled and told me how scripture study went.

He had explained to the girls that the people would get up on the tower and pray "bad" prayers.

In all seriousness, Allie responded with, "Oh, like, 'Dear Heavenly Father, we do hit'?"

I died.

Allie's Preschool Program

I thought I'd include a video from Allie's end-of-the-year program at her preschool in May. She cracks me up!

The Lyricist

The other day I pulled out an old audio cassette from my childhood-- John Denver and the Muppets The girls love it. Several times a day I find them humming the tunes to such songs as "Grandma's Featherbed" or "Hey Old Pal."

I just walked in on Allie dancing around my bed singing "... we're going camping..."... or so I thought. After hearing her singing it a couple times in a row, I had to listen one more time to be sure of what she was singing.

"... we're going canning."

Canning? "You're going canning, Allie?" She nodded and smiled. "What are you going to can?"

"Water!"

Hmmm... Maybe "food storage" has been a more common topic around the house than I thought.

In the Past Month... or two

Just when we thought we had our Blogger problem fixed-BAM!- it wouldn't let me in a again for over a month. I was just about to write a regular old email update, when I thought, Eh, I'll give it a whirl. It let me in with no problems. I don't understand it. Facebook is still jacked up for me, though. I feel terrible because about twenty people from high school and my BYU freshman ward have found me and requested to be "my friend," meaning they can see my life's info and vice versa. But I can't "accept" anyone.

I apologize for not sending an update last month, but it was for good reason. I just wasn't feeling well. Fatigue. Nausea. Headaches. Gee, from those symptoms you'd think I was pregnant or something! Actually... I am pregnant. Yes, I'm thirteen weeks along into this one, and due December 13th. All seems to be healthy so far. I had a bleeding episode at eight weeks, that sent me to the ER thinking I had miscarried, but apparently it was subchorionic, and the baby was fine. We decided to tell the girls this past Monday night why Mom's tummy was getting bigger.

I said, "Allie, have you noticed that Mom's tummy has been getting bigger?"

"Yeah." She kept her head down, picking away at her dinner.

"Why do you think that is?"

Her answer surprised us. "Mm... 'cause you have a baby in your tummy."

Kevin and I looked at each other with wide eyes, and I told her, "Well, Allie, you know what? You're right, there is a baby in Mom's tummy!"

She looked up, her eyes popping out, and she and Sami asked, "Can I see it?"

They were disappointed that they couldn't see it yet. I told them they'd be able to hear the heartbeat at Dr. Foster's office the next morning, but Allie was still hoping he'd "cut the baby out of Mom's tummy." Morbid child.

This past Friday was Kevin's off-Friday, so we spent the day at Sea World. At the end of the day I asked Allie what her favorite part of the day was, and she declared it was playing in the water-- the play area with water jets and toys for the kids. We had packed along swimsuits and extra sunscreen. I was sure her favorite part of the day would have been riding the "grown-up" ride Journey to Atlantis with her dad-- a somewhat eerie ride with a terrifying seemingly nearly vertical drop, kind of like Disneyland's Splash Mountain. Yeah, they were put in the front row, and she wasn't even fazed. I saw the picture on the screen, and Allie was clinging to the rail, gritting her teeth and squinting, but Kevin was the one with his mouth wide open in mid-scream, his eyes popping out of his head. I'm excited for the day I can ride Sea World's Kraken with her, their psycho roller coaster. Sami's the one who gets scared easily, though. She had to cling to her dad claiming, "I'm scared!" when the Sesame Street characters came out during the Elmo show. We just rolled our eyes. I think she plays it up 'cause she knows she'll get some attention. She's a manipulator, that one.

At the end of May, Allie ended her first year of preschool by participating in their end-of-the-year program featuring the children singing the cute songs they had learned since Christmas. It took Allie a couple songs to get in the groove. That girl has some pipes. She has way more volume than I've ever had-- maybe it's a confidence thing. She is not shy about singing out. One grandfather commented to me, "So, was your daughter the little singer?" She was right in the middle, belting out every song , so it was hard for anyone to miss her. My friend Aimee, Jackson's mom, came up and said in her Tennessee drawl, "Allie is quite the little singer!" She had such a blast this past year. For her, private preschool was definitely the right thing. I had contemplated doing it myself, but then, when I screwed my head on straight, I realized that Allie in-particular not only needs to be social and interact with other kids often, but needs to get time away from her mom and little sister. Plus, I honestly just didn't want to have to worry about planning lessons. But what a difference it has made for her demeanor! Mrs. Tiller has been a peach of a teacher, and Mrs. Williams, the school's director is one of the most loving, positive people I know.

Tomorrow the girls start their month of swimming lessons, and they can't wait. Allie has been asking me about it for a month, literally. I'm not really looking forward to the parent-tot class with Sami, though. I know her, and she's going to get irked with me for not letting her swim by herself. That is her favorite line these days, "No! I do it by myself!"

She has also gotten into this repeating conversations-thing. As Kevin and I talk at dinner, she'll try to get involved by repeating what we're saying, since it must be important. It's cute. We look at her smile. Maybe we just need to actually involve her in the conversation more...

I really hope Blogger keeps working for me, so I can write more updates and posts. I haven't been able to post any of my creative writing either...

... not that you all really mind all that much.

Mischief Maker

I really wish I understood my kids-- what makes Allie so emotional (sometimes I wonder if I'm really raising a sixteen year-old in a four year-old's body), and why Sami insists on creating mischief. Everyone knows Allie struggles with logic, but not everyone realizes how much trouble our mild-mannered little Sami conjures up. Emptying drawers of toiletries, eating her toothpaste, drawing on the file cabinet with a tube of Chapstick, emptying an entire container of salt into the banana chair, drawing on her face with a highlighter. I'm sure there are many out there thinking that's "small time" compared to the disasters their own little dears make in their own homes, but for someone whose first child has really never felt the need to get into trouble, this is torture!

My blood pressure probably shoots through the roof the minute I have to get in the shower. Please, Sami, don't get in to trouble. Then I call for her every few minutes to see if she comes quickly. If not, I jump out, dripping wet, and yell through the house until I find her. Usually I just find her looking at a book. I always figured Mom's shower time would be the prime time to make trouble, but I realized something. Most of the mischief occurs in my bathroom, so if I'm in there, I've taken away her Resort O' Fun. Most of the time, she gets me when I've turned on a movie in the afternoon, a time when Allie's quiet and when I'm busy. Then I realize Sami's quiet, too-- bad sign. Take today, for example...

I had put in a Blues Clues video, which both girls began watching. About thirty minutes in, I realized Allie was in the living room alone. Sami was quiet and nowhere to be seen. Ah crud. You guessed it, my bathroom. Just the other day she had gotten into my makeup bag while I was gone and her dad was mowing the lawn. We had scolded her, but apparently she didn't learn her lesson. She sat on the floor of the bathroom, my makeup bag in front of her, her finger digging out the lipstick from the tube. I said, "Sami!" which startled her, and she cried, knowing she was busted. She looked up, and lipstick and concealer covered her lips (and tongue, I soon realized), and mascara surrounded one of her eyes (how does she not poke her eye out?). I cleaned her up, and told her what she did was naughty and that she would need to go in "time out." She did so with no fits, even without her precious blanket. But geez!

Are boys worse than this? At least I don't have to worry about them stealing my makeup... I hope.