I Don't Want to Be the Waltons, but Still...

Well, Mom and Dad Smith just barely walked out the door, loaded their suit cases in the rental car, and drove away. Allie was awake to say good-byes, but I don't think it has really sunken in that they're not coming back. She'll probably wake up from her nap in an hour or so, wondering what happened to Grandma and Grandpa Smith. Oh, it's hard-- living so far away from everyone. Growing up, I never realized how nice I had it. I mean, not everyone gets to practically live with their grandparents. But I actually thought it was weird that both sets of grandparents didn't live near us. Go figure. And while now, as an adult, I wouldn't necessarily want the same situation my parents had, I admit it would be nice to be at least a little bit closer to family-- you know, close enough to where we would be able to drive there in under two hours, or even just close enough to find a nonstop flight, which is impossible out of Orlando.

I do like living here, though. It has taken me nearly two years to come to that conclusion, but I honestly can say I like it here. The people are friendly, the air is fresh, we're near the beach and fun parks, its winter weather can't be beat, and it's green. It just really bums me out that everyone it so stinkin' far away. I miss them. I would love to be able to just drop the kids off for an afternoon while I go get errands run or go to the doctor. Or even while we go to the temple.

Although, being back here, completely alone, perhaps has strengthened the bond of our little family unit, having only each other on which to depend. It's a good thing we're pretty independent naturally. It' really not that stressful to just figure life out on our own-- sure, we make tons of mistakes, but thankfully we have the Spirit to help out.

One thing I have to fight, though, is that nagging little voice that has this knack for guilt-tripping me-- You know, you're the one that chose to live so far from everyone, or Do you know much it costs for anyone to come visit? or Think about how sad your parents are to not be able to see these girls grow up-- after all, your grandparents saw you grow up. How fair is that?

Yeah, that voice isn't helping. I wish I could smack it upside the head.

Trouble is, we really didn't have all that much choice when it came to living here. We had two choices when the offers came in-- San Jose, CA or here. Hmmm... let's see, live in a shack in the ghetto, or own a new home in a clean, safe neighborhood. No brainer. Besides that, we put a lot of prayer into our decision, and we know this is where we need to be right now-- that moving here was a good decision for us, the right one even. But sometimes I wonder if we're just going to have to be far away forever, torturing our parents with them never being able to see their grandbabies, or if eventually we'll get an opportunity out west that provides us with the means to also comfortably live out there, too. I don't know. That's one thing that can be tough about life-- having faith that the Lord sees all, knows what's best, and as long as we are obedient will help things to work out as he sees fit. And for a control freak like me, being humble enough enough to allow someone else to have the reigns is hard-- knowing the Lord sees what I can't see is pure torture at times.

I really need to stop squinting so hard.

A Simple Testimony

Last night we had our last choir practice of the season until mid-August. We've been practicing for our upcoming "gig" this coming Sunday to sing the prelude for the Florida Day service at the National Cathedral in Washington DC. After running through our entire program, David wanted to go through the beginning of each piece. See, our program is a capella, and rather than using the pitch pipe to play each starting note, he'll merely be playing the the "key" note (if there's a more technical name for it, I don't know it), and we have to find our notes from there.

After getting only halfway through the program, David noticed we were having issues with phrasing. He worked with us on it for about ten minutes, and then, as he often does, used the Mormon Tabernacle Choir as an example, in this case, of terrific phrasing. He adores MoTab. He went on about how amazingly their phrasing is in spite of having 300 people. Then one of the men, a really nice guy, chimed in with his usual dry wise-crack.

"And they're not even Christians!" Everyone laughed. I shook my head, with a smirk on my face, and turned a bit red. Unfortunately, although I knew he was just kidding, and Nancy reassured me of this, comments like that get my blood boiling a bit.

Trying to smooth-over the awkwardness of the moment, especially since I really don't think he knew there were any "Mormons" in the bunch, I waved my hand in the air in "sista" fashion, and blurted out, smiling, "Oh, don't even go there!" They all laughed harder. David also tried to smooth things over, by saying how he has never seen a group of people so dedicated to their religion and their families as members of the Church, which I thought was very kind. My wise-cracking friend couldn't leave it there, though...

"No matter how many wives they have!" Oy.

David smiled and said, "Don't even go there! Well, I think we're done here."

"Good call!" I said to him.

I really do know it was all in good fun, but at the same time, I'm sure my friend's comments reflect what he's been taught-- what many Christians have been taught. We've been told by Christians that we worship Joseph Smith, that we don't believe in the Bible, that we don't believe Jesus Christ is our Savior, and that (this is the kicker) that we're brainwashed. Well, for those that want to know, here is my testimony...

I know that Jesus Christ is my Savior. I know that through the Atonement, he suffered not only for our sins, but felt each one of our pains, frustrations, disappointments that he might better succor his people. I know that it is only through Him, that it is possible for us to return to live with our Father in Heaven. Just as Paul said that it is only through grace, the grace of Christ, that we are saved. If the Atonement did not occur, there is no way, that by our own merits we would be able to return home. Nonetheless, while it is by faith in Him that we accept that grace, it is also recorded in James, "...faith, if it hath not works, is dead..."

I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. I know that while yet a young boy he saw God the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ-- two distinct, separate beings, but one in heart and mind. I know, that just like the prophets of old, he was called of God-- literally by God, like Moses or Abraham or Samuel. I know that the Book of Mormon is holy scripture, not to take the place of the Bible, but to be a companion to the Bible. Ezekiel talked of the "stick of Joseph" and "the stick of Judah" becoming one. The Book of Mormon tells the story of descendants of Joseph of Egypt that crossed the sea to come to the American continent to avoid the destruction of Jerusalem at the time of the reign of Zedekiah. Being the "other sheep" that would "hear (his) voice," spoken of in John, their decedents saw and heard their risen Lord and felt His wounds. For them, just as He had done in Jerusalem, He organized His church, giving the new apostles the same Priesthood authority He had given in the old world. I know the Book of Mormon is that stick of Joseph, and I know the Bible is that stick of Judah.

Have I been taught these things? Of course. But have I just left it at that? Not at all. In the Church we are taught of doctrines and principles, and are encouraged to ponder them and pray about them, on our own, privately, that we might gain our own witness of their truthfulness. I have done just that, and the Spirit, the Holy Ghost, has born that witness to me, through a powerful, invigorating burning of the bosom, that these things are true.

In bearing my testimony, I have not meant offend. I have only desired to share what is in my heart, especially in light of last night's happenings. Perhaps many of you now have a desire to Bible-bash with me, but I refuse to do that. I don't claim to be any expert when it comes to the scriptures. My testimony is not a matter of who was more convincing-- the Church or other Christian sects. It is a matter of what the Lord, through the Holy Ghost, has spoken to my heart.

Wow, that turned much more serious than I was originally planning. If you're now looking for something light-hearted, read the next post. :)

If Only She Could Do That For Herself

After hopping out of the shower yesterday, I noticed it to be eerily quiet. I started to quickly get dressed in anticipation of finding a disaster, but after a minute, I heard Sami's trademark whine as well as some noises from Allie I couldn't really make out. Relieved at hearing the noise, I went back to leisurely getting dressed, when I noticed Sami's whines to be getting a bit louder with more of an anxiety to them. I rushed to the girls' rooms, and saw both of their doors closed, but the sounds were coming from Sami's room.

I eased open the door to see Sami lying on the ground with her thumb in her mouth and her pink fleece "bwaydjuh" (blanket) up to her face. Her shorts were on the floor, her onesie unsnapped, and a diaper loosely attached around her bum. Allie was sitting on the floor near her, looking confused as to why I looked so confused. Suddenly I realized the diaper looked new, unused.

I calmly asked, "Allie, what did you do?"

"I changed Sami's diaper!"

I bit nervous about what was exactly in the used diaper, I asked, "Did Sami poop, honey?"

"No, she just whizzed."

She told me what she did exactly, and pointed to the used diaper. I looked a little ways past Sami's head and saw the old diaper open on the floor, with apparently used wipes laying around it. Thankfully, Allie wasn't lying-- no poop.

I sighed in relief, hugged Allie, told her she did a good job, but that she needed to talk to Mama first before changing Sami's diaper the next time. She really did do a pretty good job, though. Of course, she couldn't get the onesie re-snapped, nor could she put Sami's shorts back on, but the diaper, although a bit loose, was put on the right way and attached correctly-- I would bet there's many a dad in the world that couldn't do that.

Now if we could just get Allie to change her own diapers, life would be complete.

In the Past Month

What a pleasant surprise! We took the girls to the adult session of stake conference last night. Since the Young Women had been at girls camp all week and were all just returning yesterday at around 4pm (which I'm sure is why someone decided to not have them babysit children last night), and since I needed to leave by 4:30, I figured that wasn't enough time to round up a babysitter. Having gotten there an hour early, at 5pm, we ate our picnic dinner, and went inside to save seats in the chapel and then practice with the choir. After practicing we made our way to the chapel, trying to figure out on whom to pawn our kids while we sang. After rounding someone up, we began getting settled in our seats when Jill came over to us and said, "Hey, I just found out Linda Samuels has a nursery going in the back of the church. There aren't many kids, but they could definitely take Allie." Oh, wonderful, sweet Linda. We ended up being able to hand over Sami as well, so both of us sat with the choir in the stands the entire two-hour meeting. Linda is actually the stake Young Women's president, and perhaps she just understood that while her Young Women would be too exhausted from camp to want to babysit a bunch of wild kids, the members of the stake would soon be just as exhausted (not to mention completely missing out on the spiritual edification they were so looking forward to) from trying to keep their children contained-- they expect that in a family meeting, but not in a meeting designed for them. Needless to say, she humbled me-- her willingness to serve and sacrifice without being asked (at least, I don't think she was, but I could be wrong), and without anything in return. And while the topic last night wasn't one considered to be a favorite among church members (Family History), it actually did benefit me, which would have been less likely to happen had we been tending the girls the whole meeting.

Today was the general session of the conference, and I must say the girls did surprisingly well. On any normal Sunday we can't make it through the hour-long Sacrament Meeting without taking both of them out at some point. So, I figured in having to sit there for two hours, we'd probably see our own seats inside the chapel for about ten minutes of the entire meeting-- you know, for the opening and closing hymns. But, you know, we didn't have to take either one of them out once. Not once! That's not to say, though, that I was able to listen intently to the meeting the entire time, but I did catch phrases here and there, as well as overall meaning, and, most importantly, we did get to listen to the last few talks on the importance of temple attendance given by the members of the stake presidency because (get this) the girls both... fell asleep. That's right, folks, they fell asleep in our arms. Oh, glorious day! For those that know our active children, that never happens. Allie hasn't fallen asleep in my arms in, well, I can't remember how long it has been. And since we had to be at the chapel and hour early to practice with the choir, we actually got to sit in the padded benches up near the front, which is a heck of a lot nicer than sitting on the hard fold-out chairs in the cultural hall (a.k.a. gym) with all the other hyper families like us who got there too late for a good seat. So, other than our friends the Terrys who sat right in front of us, we were surrounded by nice, quiet elderly people. Of course maybe they didn't appreciate us invading their territory, but on the other hand, maybe they enjoyed having some wiryness around to keep them awake.

As for other happenings this past month, Allie finished her term of swimming lessons. Unfortunately, I forgot about the registration day for this term, and by the time my brain kicked in gear the toddler classes were full. I felt bad about spacing it, but she hasn't seemed to notice. I think the swimming lessons have helped, though. We went to a Memorial Day ward picnic on, well, Memorial Day. The ward tends to have their two yearly BBQs at Veteran's Park, which, like many other parks in the area, has a swimming hole. Of course, the deeper part of the "lake" is roped off, so the water never got above Allie's shoulders. But she jumped in there with her friends Aura and Jose and never once was nervous. She even seemed to try to swim, and spent a good portion of the time trying to see how long she could keep her face in the water. At the same time, I do believe she's still cautious enough not to jump into a pool of water that looks deep. And to ease my mother's mind, yes, I still watch her intently around water, especially after the incident at the community pool a few months ago when I happened to be there by myself. On that day Sami was sitting outside the pool, since she decided she hated the cold water, and I had been teaching Allie how to tread water. Sami began to cry for some reason, so I put Allie back on the steps, and said I needed to check on Sami, who had been sitting patiently not too far away from the edge of the pool. I said, "Allie, wait right right here." And I stepped out of the pool for not more than five seconds when I had the distinct impression to turn back around. I'm glad I heeded the prompting. There Allie was, struggling to tread water, with her terrified-looking face barely above the water on which she was choking, and her eyes as big as saucers. I jumped back in and pulled her up and hugged her. She was fine, but after that she refused to even allow me to hold her in the deeper water. Can you blame her? So, the swimming lessons have at least helped to undo some of the damage I did that day in the community pool. Although, what would have happened if I hadn't been teaching her how to tread water, since that's what was at least keeping her nose above the water? Food for thought...

As for news on little Sami, she is officially a walker now. While she has been taking steps for the past month, it has only been in the past week or so that she has decided walking would be her main mode of transportation. I think she started to see the benefits-- no rug burns, it beats trying to crawl in a dress, and you look bigger and more intimidating. I must say the tops of her feet have been much cleaner lately. I've also actually been surprised at how much she has been talking as well. I figured since she has a talkative big sister to do the talking for her, that she wouldn't have a reason to say much, but she has loved mimicking people. And really without being taught has caught on to "Thank you" (which sounds like a sing-songy "tay too") and "bless you" (or "bess oo,"and while saying it she imitates your sneeze... which means she basically yells it whenever I sneeze). And from all the counting we do around here to get her sister to hop-to-it when it comes to accomplishing tasks, she has caught on to that, too. The other day I was counting to ten to get Allie to do something, and after I got to five, she said, "sis." Then after I said seven, she said, "aht." Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.

Happy June to all! Oh yeah, and a happy hurricane season, which started with a bang on Thursday with the formation of Barry. Our stake president asked us today to fast for a mild hurricane season, which he thought was funny considering he just asked us a month or two ago to fast for rain. Good times.

Drat!

This weekend is stake conference, with the typical adult session being held tomorrow night, and then the general session on Sunday. For every adult session they have gotten the Young Women to babysit, so that it's actually an adult session. Plus, people don't have to be fighting over babysitters, or pay someone to be able to attend a church function without their children, since that is the whole point of the meeting in the first place. It always killed me in Wymount, BYU Student Family Housing, of all places, when the stake presidency would schedule an adult stake conference session... in a stake where there aren't any Young Women to even pay to watch your kids. And it's not like you could ask a friend to watch them, 'cause they were supposed to be at the meeting, too. So, the "adult" session ended up being full of screaming children, just like the session for families the next day.

After Kev got home this evening, he played with the girls for a bit, then messed around looking at some basketball highlights on You Tube. Finally he came in the kitchen where I was working and said, "I've got some bad news." Coming from Mr. Sunshine, that's never a good sign.

"Apparently, they're not having babysitting tomorrow night at the adult session."

"What?! I've been telling people there will be babysitting! And what are we going to do, 'cause we're both singing in the choir? Besides, that hasn't been announced to people, and guaranteed people are going to make that 30-minute drive with their kids in their PJs, thinking Young Women are going to be there to watch them. And, how is the Bishop supposed to get that message across to the entire ward by tomorrow?" I know I sort of bit Kevin's head off about it. I'll admit I'm bugged. I know it's not his fault, but I suppose I jumped down his throat a bit because he didn't seem to care all that much, which made me feel guilty for caring so much. It's almost like I felt like I had to convince him that it was a big deal.

I tried to email the bishop to see if he has any insights into this dilemma, but I haven't gotten a response yet. But I suppose I should start preparing for the worst, and come up with a plan to deal with this... rather than sitting here like a geek complaining to you all.