Even Longer (aka. "Not Dead YET")

Yeah, I'm totally sucking at ... well, really most everything. But especially blogging on a regular basis. (I mean, every day might be overkill ... but even just ONCE a week would be better, right?)

(Then again, I have some friends that haven't blogged in months/over a year ... so I SUPPOSE that I'm doing okay after all. But only by THAT comparison. And we aren't really supposed to compare ourselves to others all that much, right?)

(Whatever.)

OKAY ... so ... what all is going on.
So, let's see ... and I don't know that I'll be going in any particular order.

Forefront on my mind is that the Facebook group for my friend Kim McDaniel, the one who passed last month, might be closed/gone.

And, when I got that news the other day, I just about lost my breath. Because, well, it was one thing that we all had left of her. Sure, people aren't posting a whole lot. ... But, and I only know what I do, since I'm not THAT good of a stalker, but I know that I'd go and look over pictures that people had posted. Or reread some of the stories that people shared about her and her life/influence.
And, well, my first response was, "Oh no. I'm not ready." The thought of it disappearing into the void was like losing her all over again.

My mom was there when I read the post about closing that page. And, since she always has good advice (though I don't always take it), I did go and download some of my favorite pictures of Kim.
And I'll post what I shared, so that you can know a little more about my friend.

While Kim was living in [our town], I was blessed by the opportunity to be one of her Visiting Teachers (in fact, I was really bummed when she was transferred to another route). It gave me an opportunity to ask her if she was sincere when she announced at a ward social that she was into gangsta rap -- since it was announced in a tone that COULD have been sarcastic.

She was always full of humor. I'd say that she was a force of nature embodied -- she's great. It was a highlight to go visit her. I know that she was always very concerned about asking for any help -- feeling that people might/would feel that she was taking advantage. I never felt taken advantage of. In fact, in talking with other members of the ward, we would have loved to have had more opportunities to serve her and her family. We love them.

I loved sitting by her in Relief Society ... and I'll confess that when we sat together, I did not listen to the lesson nearly as much as I should. But we tried not to be too loud or distracting.One time, Kim came over for a baking day. We made cinnamon rolls. She ended up sharing a good portion of those she made with the staff at her doctor's office ... which is just like Kim. She was considerate and kind like that.

Tuesday, I was making some cheddar biscuits. And a thought forefront on my mind was, "Oh, when Kim's better, we have to make these together." (We were overdue for another baking day. We were going to have one together and try our hand at something savory. But it had been postponed for about a year, due to busy schedules and her health.) I knew that these were the biscuits that she and I should make together WHEN she was better. I didn't care if it would take a year, ten years, forty years ... but-- dang it -- we HAD to make these.

Then, the next evening, I got the news.

So, well ... thank goodness for the resurrection and all ... I'm just going to have to wait for a while longer to make those biscuits with her.

She and I would also trade links for funny videos on YouTube. One of her absolute favorites was the Jimmy Fallon/Will Ferrell "Tight Pants" skit. She's right. It is really hilarious.

I miss her. And our ward is really, really so sad that we didn't get to keep her for longer. Which speaks volumes about how wonderful she is and how much she means to us.

But, yes, there -- in a nutshell -- is my Kim.
Michael still thinks that I should have gone to the funeral. But ... well, I don't know. I don't like crying in public. I had responsibilities here. It was a really long drive ... And, more importantly, it wasn't going to bring her back.
But, using the Purex fresh-scent crystals, when I smell our laundry, it's almost like she's around. Just her scent.
Taking the warm laundry out of the dryer, it's almost like getting a hug from her. which still makes me feel special, since she was (self-professed) not huge on hugging people. But I would get hugs from her.

So, there's that. And I realize that it's been over a month. And that is a very long time. And a very short time. And I know that I wasn't as close to Kim as I should have been, as her friend. I feel that I SHOULD have been more aware ... more ... something. Better, anyways. 

And I know, also, that she'd tell me to cheer up and that I was doing fine. 
But it doesn't bring her back, you see. And I hate having to MISS people.
I mean, it's bad enough when people move away (or I move away). BUT we can always call, text, mail letters, connect on Facebook ... all that stuff. Or that we could manage to be in the same place at the same time and SEE each other.
Dealing with death, though ... I just don't like it that people go somewhere too far to contact directly (at least that I can't hear them or see them or hug them or whatever). It's just not fair that they go somewhere that I can't (at least not yet).

... 
...

Well onto less Allanna-is-a-brooding-sad-sack things.

Let's see what all I've been up to lately.

This morning, Bubbles was in the bathroom sink, having spilled all the mouthwash. 
I was ticked off, sure. But the bathroom DOES smell quite minty-fresh. So, there's that.

Bruise and Bucket had their Primary (Church Children's group for ages 3-11) Program last Sunday. 
They both read their lines very well (loud enough and clear). They sang with the rest of the kids. AND their Sunday School class (4/5 were there) sang the verses of one song, with the rest of the Primary joining in on the chorus. Michael and Mom were VERY impressed that we could HEAR Bucket quite well (since she's quite stage-shy).
It's really awesome to see how they're growing (and to see Bucket doing so much better in dealing with her nerves. ... Priesthood blessings DO help a lot).

Grandma I (the kids' great-grandmother) and Aunt S (Michael's aunt) came out for a visit, since they live quite a ways away (a couple thousand miles, anyways). We got to hang out with them a bit, never as much as we'd like. But it was good to see them. And we had some family snapshots taken, so that was nice.

We took the kids to the zoo a few weeks ago. There's some (a LOT) of construction happening. A veterinary/zoological  medicine school is going in. They're expanding the Asian elephant enclosure. The train tracks are being worked on. They were resurfacing some of the walkways ... So we did MOST of the zoo. (Not the elephants or the Pacific Northwest exhibits) ... I do rather miss some of the Northern-northern (Alaskan/Canadian tundra) exhibit. But we do quite enjoy having lions at the zoo ... so, well, it's a little bittersweet.
A nice plus, though, was that we ran into Jenny and Joseph and their kids at the zoo. It's been way too long since we've gotten to hang out, so just getting to see them was a bonus, indeed. ^_^

Bubbles had her flu shot. The rest of us should get ours.
Michael will be getting his other wisdom teeth pulled tomorrow ... FINALLY.
They're infected/bad and his last dentist (Aspen Dental, I'm looking at YOU) wouldn't pull them because "they're close to a nerve." So, instead of giving a referral or whatever, this dud was just going to let them rot. ... Which they have been doing for over a year.
Michael's been in a lot of pain.

He finally caved and called K, our brother-in-law, who's a dentist and specializes in extractions at his clinic. Sure, we'll be doing a bit of a road trip, but it'll be worth it for Michael to NOT be suffering on the daily. Poor dude.

The kids brought home their school pictures.
Bucket's looks great. Her hair is even STILL in place.
Bruise's, though, ... his hair's a little disheveled. But the biggie is that he has this half-smile (not showing his teeth at all, so it's almost a smirk) with DEAD EYES.
The boy almost looks stoned, poor thing.
So he'll have retakes this time. Crazy boy.

I had PTC (Parent-Teacher Committee) meeting last week. Took notes. Typed them up and got them back to the staff for translating into Spanish and putting on the website/facebook page. Go me, right?
Last month, the library at the school was PACKED full of parents.
This month, they forgot to schedule the robo-call from the school. So we had maybe a dozen people show. Oops.

Parent-Teacher conferences are coming up. We'll see how that goes. I think everything should be fine. Haven't heard anything bad (Except Bruise telling me that it's difficult to listen/write/speak Spanish. ... I hear you kid, says your mom who keeps trying to respond in German. Can we get the gift of tongues and interpreting of tongues happening here? It'd make it a LOT easier to volunteer in the classroom, translate the PTC notes so that C in the office doesn't have to, and deal with Mr. Ruidoso-Neighbor ... though, honestly, since the police went over, he's been quiet as a mouse. And I do hope that he continues that trend. Bless. ... If not, I gave him a blanket warning. And I'll totes call up our city's finest right away in the future. ... Michael says that he probably has a lot more respect for me now. ... I just want to know what all went down that one night that had at least THREE officers go to their house the next day. Dude ... did he take a swing at one or something?? No freaking idea.)

We had our last dinner with Sister Palmer. She's heading home, since she's reached the end of her mission. Per her request, we had scrambled eggs and German Pancakes/Dutch Babies (which let me FINALLY use my German Pancake pan that I received as a wedding present over a decade ago. :P). I also made biscuits (from a can) and gravy (not from a can) for the omnivorous diners (i.e., everyone else).

Last weekend, Michael drove down to help Dad and L move. They still don't have the keys for their newest place, but there was a place to put things in storage in their new town for the time being.
Dad actually called later to request that I tell Michael and [my stepdad] how much they appreciate their help. ... My dad isn't always quite so thoughtful. So, obviously, L is a good influence on him. Mom and I were pleasantly surprised by this incident. (Go Dad!)

Dad C had a bit of a medical scare ... at first we thought it was a kidney- or gallstone. Turns out it's an enlarged prostate. The doctors are keeping an eye on it.
And we're glad that it's nothing more serious.

While the missionaries (Sister Palmer and Sister Bent) were over on Tuesday, Bruise's spacer (for a tooth that was extracted a couple years ago) came out (again).
However, this time, instead of snapping off, it came off all in one piece, with the cap it is attached to.
I called their dentist's office yesterday morning ... and ended up rushing us all out there.
They glued back on the cap, so the spacer is all back in place. (There was no damage to the capped tooth. No sensitivity to water or air. Everything still fit perfectly.) Got Bruise and Bucket to school just over an hour late.
Bubbles used the potty at the dentist's office. Then wet her pants at home.
She used the potty at the restaurant, when Mom, Bubbles, and I went to lunch ... and filled her diaper at home.
... Maybe I just need to keep her out of the house more? :P

Nursery (the young children's class at church -- ages 18-months to 3-years) is going better. CH and I make a good team, I think.
We've had a smaller class lately. Meaning that there are between 9-12 children in the class (as opposed to the 15-18 that CAN/DO usually show up). And, since T (the other Nursery leader) takes the older ones (who'll be in Primary in January) for most of the two-hour-period, it's been a lot calmer.
We've mostly just been playing it by ear. Pretty lowkey.
Sometimes we get out the play dough or puzzles or cars and dolls ... we have snack and a lesson ... sometimes we have singing time. For the last 5-10 minutes, we sometimes play with bubbles (which makes me a little winded and we're both all drippy with soapy-water by the end of the block). But, yes, it's a lot better than my first month in Nursery.
And I have fun with CH. Lots of fun, really. We're of quite a similar sense of humor. That does help. And I've known her for nearly a decade, so that helps, too. It's a different dynamic, since she was in YW (Young Women's, the girls ages 12-18) and I was a leader (YW Camp director and then YW Secretary) ... but it's still pretty fun. Almost like having a little sister, I suppose.

I've started reading more books lately. That's a good thing. I've missed my daily escape.

Also, on Pinterest, I've gained some followers ... so let me brag.
A couple weeks ago, I got an alert that I Chad Hawkins started following me. And I was all, "why does that name sound familiar ...?"
ONLY BECAUSE I HAVE HIS BOOK (well, ONE of his books, "The First 100 Temples," since my Institute [Gospel Study] teacher, Brother Kirby was quoted in it) ... and I was then quite impressed.

Then, the next week, LDS.net started following my "Churchy Stuff" board. And I was quite chuffed.
THEN, I got a notice that my "Churchy Stuff" board has been added to those followed by LDSLiving.
Could have knocked me over with a feather, y'all. So I feel rather famous. Since I respect all three of those people/organizations.
Which makes me feel that I must be doing something right with that board. (Now just to IMPLEMENT all the awesome scripture-study and other skills/ideas that I've pinned, right? ... And to cook more of those yummy recipes from my cooking board ... and to work a lot of it off from my healthy-type-stuff board.)

The kids all have their costume-stuff. I didn't make anything. I let them all choose. So, there's not really any common theme or anything. Bruise has known what he's wanted to be for a year. Bucket went back and forth between about a dozen choices. Bubbles chose between two things ... I have no idea if I'm even doing anything costume-wise for myself. Oh well.

I think that's most everything that I should put in my brain-dump.

Well, that and I had a fun cameo in my Roxy-sis's dream the other night.
In her dream, she was at a family reunion (no, we're not really related), and started feeling light-headed and passed out, coming to with her cheek on the floor, unable to get up ... everyone was gone.
I prance in, drop a pile of kitty kibble in front of her nose, giggle, and run out.

Which is the kind of surreal thing that happens in MY dreams ... so, well, even when my dream-self goes traveling, at least she's pretty consistent. So, yeah. Good times, yo.

Insert some pithy title, please. Thanks.

I keep remembering (or mostly remembering) things that Neil Gaiman said that I hadn't yet written down ... and, well, he was so amazing that I do want to share more!

(Truly, if I'd have thought that a cell-phone video would have turned out at all well, I'd have been sorely tempted. ... But then I couldn't clap, could I??)

But, due to wonderful sales, The Ocean at the End of the Lane bumped Dan Brown's Inferno from the New York Times' Best Sellers #1 spot.

And what did Mr. Gaiman have to say about that?
"Curse you and your intricately-crafted Renaissance [fantasy/fiction/ ... Neither Michael nor I can remember the EXACT word. But it was darling]."

And he knew, around the age of ten, that he wanted to be a writer. He knew that if he did not at least try writing, he would die. And if he tried and failed? That'd be okay. And he go into hotel management or something else.

Truly, I'm a little jealous of people who KNOW what they want to be.
I'm in my early 30s (when did THAT happen?!??) and I still don't really know what I'm doing.
I mean, I'm a mom. I'm a wife. I take care of the house. I cook. I read lots of books. I try not to be boring. I try to be kind and compassionate and understanding. I try to love everyone. I try to love myself. I try to live my religion ... Maybe that's what I am. I'm a TRY-er.
At least, when you're a try-er, it's not like you can really fail.
Just leave Yoda and his philosophy out of it. I don't want to hear it right now.

Besides that, Bruise had some sort of allergic reaction ... on his FACE (and earlobes and neck and a couple little spots on his arms). It appears that he got SOMETHING on his hands and touched his face. I only noticed it last Wednesday. Friday, when it wasn't getting better, I started giving him some Benadryl. It's looking lots better. (And the chlorine-water this morning seems to have helped, too).
It doesn't itch or cause him discomfort ... it just looks ... well ... odd.
At first, I thought it might be acne ... except for the fact that he's NOT nearly old enough to start puberty like THAT.
But he's doing fine ... my shaggy-haired little man.

Bucket ... even though there are times that she knows just which buttons to push ... she is really a VERY sweet and compassionate girl.
I'm, well ... I'm in a bit of a rough patch.
To say much more feels like a drama-queen thing.
But, let's just say that I've really questioned what kind of person I am.
(My mom assures me that I'm not a terrible friend. Michael assures me the same. Does anyone who doesn't have such a vested interest in me want to weigh in? If I'm a terrible person and an awful friend, I'd much rather prefer to know ... so that I can improve my quality of friendshipness-essence.)
And, well, since I broke down in tears again (and I don't like crying in front of my kids. It feels ... unprofessional. They have enough work figuring out who they are. I should be able to hold it together and not stress them out too much) ... and Bubbles had just woken up.
As I changed her diaper, Bucket told me, "Don't worry, Mom. We'll take care of her. You go take a rest."

She is her father's daughter. (Except when she's infuriating ... then that's ALL me. I can admit it.)

And I did take a rest ... and I felt a bit better.
Not ready to take over the world or anything ... but not quite so vulnerable to cry at the drop of a hat.
(At the same time, let's please don't take any chances ... Keep your hat-dropping to a minimum, if you don't mind.)

In other news, the kids started swim lessons today. And they had a great time. Even if I brought them there over a half-hour early. Whoops. (Better early than late, right?)
We got to sit and chat and watch the swim team practice and a class of older ladies exercise.
And Bucket and I talked about how it's not really important if one is "fat" or "skinny." But that being HEALTHY is most important. I hope that sticks.

And a gal from our ward, before the wards' boundaries were all reorganized, has her two sons in swim lessons at the same time (different classes), so it was very nice to get to chat with her. She's a friendly gal and is very fun to talk to. (Which makes me hope that I haven't lost all social skills ... I mean, I can write a great business letter ... maybe I just suck at being personable? But, no, another friend likes me plenty ... so ... well, maybe it's not that.) But I get to look forward to chatting with her for another eight days.  So that's nice.

I don't really know what to make for dinner. I have a pot of rice nearly done.
Not that 2/3 of the children really care for rice. And what should I serve with it?
I'm sure that I'll figure out something.
(Oh well, I was going to have Michael swing by the store on his way home and grab some sausage ... He's obviously listening to the radio and isn't picking up the phone. Oh well.)

Well, I think that's about everything that I can think of to write ... I'm finding myself staring off into space. Not the best use of my time ... and, well, if I'm not that interesting to MYSELF, I feel awful for you reading this blog.

Good news, my mom'll be coming up. I've been missing her. She had put her back out ... and then was having dizzy spells. Neither of which lend themselves well to driving for a few hours to visit (enthusiastic) grandchildren.
So I'm glad to be able to see her. I've been missing her a lot.

I should clean up the house, though. It'd be a nice idea, right?

And I called and set up pesticide service. It's not doing well in our battle against the ants. Ugh. Hate those insects. Why can't they just stay outside?? Whatever. They'll be sorry. In a few weeks. Mwhahaaaa.

Stuff I forgot to post because it was late ...

Some more things from the signing yesterday ...

An audience member asked Neil Gaiman why he started raising bees.

Neil stated that everyone should have a hobby that has the potential to kill you.
That and, his more sincere answer, was because he was reading about colony collapse back in 2006 (I think) and he wanted to do something to make the world a better place.

Another question addressed the fact that many of his books' dedications thank people that have allowed him to stay in their houses to write. Does he prefer to write away from home?

Neil Gaiman does like to follow a bit of Ian Fleming's advice (Ian Fleming = author and creator of James Bond ... and he, incidentally, hated the writing process). Fleming's advice was that one should hole up in the worst hotel in a place that you wouldn't want to go out to enjoy for three weeks. Because there'd be nothing else to do, you'd have no choice to work on your novel. So you should go somewhere like Poughkeepsie (And here, Neil confessed, "I like Poughkeepsie.") and crank out that novel.

Neil said that he prefers to be a little bit uncomfortable ... and that he has the fortune to have many friends with more houses than bodies in their family. And that he is talented at asking, "Hey, can I stay at one of your houses for a bit?"

In fact, for his US-version of Neverwhere, he holed himself up into a room at the Marriott in the World Trade Center ... the room didn't even have a window. He's never finished anything so quickly ... because he just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

And, another book he wrote be accident was Coraline. He intended it as a short story for his elder daughter. ... He finished it ten years later.

Another question was about how he decided which stories/ideas to write about and which to save for later ...
He responded that he chooses, first, to write what people would want -- because it makes them happy and gets him paid.
And, if there are a lot of things coming up, he tends to decide to write what NOBODY'S asked for. Since it feels unfair to work on ONE thing which would make someone mad that he wasn't working on THEIR thing. And he couldn't work on the other thing, because the FIRST person would get upset ... so he works on his own thing so that EVERYONE can be upset and it's all fair.

He's also had issues with Wikipedia. He hasn't really checked his page since about 2003, when it was full or errors and downright lies. He wrote to the people in charge of the site with corrections. They asked him how he knew these things. "Well, I'm the person they happened to."
"That isn't an authority. We need a written source."
So, he mostly gave up ... however, he's noticed that if he writes a blog post addressing any issues brought to his attention, because it's WRITTEN, that gives him authority ... in regards to his own life.

He also made some great little jokes about how nobody knew that Portland had days like that day ... The weather was sunny and in the nineties. (Usually, people think of Portland like how Meryer's Forks, Washington is written. :P He didn't SAY that, but we all know it.)
But he was VERY concerned with how we were all cooking in there ... which is very sweet of him to be so concerned.

Like I said, he was so very personable and so very nice.

And, when he reads, he does all sorts of voices ... and when he's NOT reading dialogue, his accent is lovely, regardless.
And he knows how to laugh at himself, which is quite sweet, too.

Yes, I am aware that I'm a fangirl. Shush. It's not like I didn't know this previously.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

So, after how not-good yesterday was, today more than made up for things.

The kids and I hit the Old Navy $1 Flip-Flop sale ... with a 10% off coupon.
Yeah, I love it when I save about twice as much as I spend. That's really nice.

Then we dropped the kids off with Mom and Dad C and Michael and I headed up to the big city for my birthday present (Remember how he surprised me with tickets to Neil Gaiman's book signing? Yup!).

Since we got up there early (as planned) and finally found a good parking spot (for a good price, too!), we went to the Chinese Garden. It was our first time there without kids ... and, well, it's a lot nicer without a tandem stroller and impatient kids. ^_^

We moseyed our way around ... watched the koi, smelled the flowers (well, I did. Michael tried NOT to smell the flowers or be bothered by the pollen. :P), watched a Gray Heron swoop in and land on the top of one of the small bridges' roof (and, apparently, gargle for a quarter hour or so), and even went to the tea house ... for NOT tea.
Michael had the mango nectar. I branched out and tried the Sweet Winter Melon juice ... which is very different, but not at all unpleasant -- it's rather like a non-carbonated root beer with strong caramel flavor, but as thin as water (so not like a syrup, though it TASTES like it SHOULD be a syrup).
And, on the receipt, I was tickled that it was poetically called "GOURD JUICE."
And we ate Mao Do (edamame ... but with spices on the outside of the pods) and Bao stuffed with spinach.

And, well, it's a good thing that we ate then, since (after a quick side trip to Powell's bookstore) we were waiting in line outside the Crystal Ballroom for over an hour. And it was nearly another hour before things started.
A musician took the stage for three songs (my favorite was the accordion-accompanied letter to a giraffe-rancher about how the musician REALLY wants a giraffe. ... DUDE, did YOU have any idea that there's a GIRAFFE RANCH in eastern Washington?!?? But they don't do tours, apparently. That was a let down.) and then a gal spoke about Neil Gaiman's influence on her life and her career (drawing and writing).

THEN NEIL GAIMAN TOOK THE STAGE. Well, the dais, really ... but STILL!!

And his accent is even better in real life. And he was just as wonderful, funny, and brilliant as he is on the internet.

He told of how his latest book, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, was a bit of an accident. It was supposed to be a short story he wrote to his wife as she was across the world recording her album.
(Also she doesn't like fantasy ... which is what he writes. "But she likes me.")
It turned from a short story into a novelette ... then a short novella ... then a LONG novella ... then, when it was finished, he checked the word count and emailed his publisher that, sorry, it's not a novella, "I wrote a book by accident."

He also told of the real-life bits about the story (how, when he was seven, his family's Mini was stolen by a man who accidentally gambled his AND his friends' savings away at the pub ... then the gambler stole the Mini and crashed it to commit suicide ... And how the farm at the end of the road had been there since William the Conquerer came. And how he (Gaiman), as a child, figured that the brick farmhouse had ALWAYS been there and that the family living there had always had the farm.)

He answered questions from the audience:

• Q: "Who has the weirder fans? You or Clive Barker?"
  A: Clive ... to the power of a million.
  Gaiman's fans are NICE. Even when they scare little old ladies owning a bookshop in Dayton, OH (The ladies running the shop had NEVER seen such hair colors or piercings), they prove how nice they are (By the end of the day, the ladies were exclaiming what NICE people they were, how they'd never had such wonderful customers).
  Gaiman's fans have never sliced open their arms and demanded that the author sign the book with their blood.
  Gifts for Neil Gaiman are harmless ... like a giant stuffed My Little Pony done up as Death (from Sandman). Barker, instead, gets a carved wooden staff with SEVEN cats' heads impaled on it.
  Neil Gaiman loves his fans.
• Q: "In one to three words, describe your writing process."
  A: "Glare. Drink tea."

There were a couple other questions, including a sweet request from a fan for a kiss. (He complied with a peck on the cheek. She was thrilled. It was ADORABLE.

He read to us ... the third chapter of his book.
After questions, he allowed us to vote if we'd rather get to the signing right away, since it was SWELTERING, or if we'd want to hear from a not-yet-published book.

I'm sure you didn't have to guess that OF COURSE we wanted to hear more.

And he has a children's book coming out in September. And, from the excerpt, it will be AMAZING.
And, as Michael said to me, if/when they make it into a movie, Martin Freeman should be the lead.

We waited for about another hour to be put into line to have our books signed.
Michael's copy of "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" is made out to The [C] Family. And Neil Gaiman also signed out copy of "The Graveyard Book". And Michael called him "sir."
Neil Gaiman signed my copy of "Instructions"  and, in my copy of "The Ocean," inscribed my name and a heart.
I corrected him on my name's pronunciation. He thanked me for coming. I thanked him for doing this. He told me that he felt guilty, since it was so hot and we'd had to wait so much. I assured him that it was worth it.

I also have, among others, a picture of Neil Gaiman and I grinning at each other.

Yeah, this is a birthday present that's seriously hard to beat.

And, really, Neil Gaiman was SO charming and SO nice. The gal in line in front of us had him sign and inscribe a book for her friend. When he learned that she had one book for herself (which had just his signature), he made sure that he inscribed HER name on that one, too.
Such a nice, nice man.

So, yeah ... my husband made this possible by buying our tickets as soon as the site went live. There were 1,000 tickets ... and they were sold out THAT MORNING.

Yup, Michael is THAT AWESOME.
He made a really awesome day possible. Because he's amazing.

And, after all that, we went and grabbed some dinner, got the kids, and came home.
So that we can get ready for church tomorrow.

(Even though ... I am rather sorely tempted to read the rest of "The Ocean" ... the third chapter IS just so good, you see.)

The last couple days ...

I did not take take a nap. Or do yoga. Or anything else, really. Mostly just hung out online and got caught up (again) on the Mental_Floss blogs and Neatorama. ^_^

So, the kids haven't had their card turned. And, it appears that IF they DID, that if they behave, their card can get back to green. Nice idea.

Tuesday afternoon and evening ... what did I do? Gosh, at this point, I barely even remember ... Oh, I used my Zeno on an inflammation next to my nail (ingrown nail? Hangnail?). It didn't feel very nice. (When I use the Zeno on a zit, it doesn't hurt or feel all THAT hot. This? I was aware. Ow. ... But between that, Michael pulling the hangnail out, and rinsing it with Isopropyl alcohol and using a bandage with Bactarin on it, it's feeling better. Lots better.)

And Michael and I watched clips of Whose Line is It Anyways on YouTube ... laughed until we cried.
This one is my ALL-TIME favorite at present:



I also really recommend the Songs of Horror (or should I say "Songs of HOR-RORR" ... just watch it, you'll understand.)



Good times. Good times.

Also, in full disclosure?
I do still hold Ryan Stiles in a special place in my heart (Srsly, the man has AWESOME taste in shoes.) ... But I've now really become a Colin Mochrie girl. I adore him. He makes me smile. /confession.

Yesterday, Mom and I got the kids to the bus on time, then chilled until my dental check-up (She ran to the store and checked Facebook at the house while I was gone). After I got back (Guess who has two thumbs and a lotta [mostly shallow] cavities??? THIS GIRL!!!!), we went out to lunch (Taco Bell, in case you wondered) and to Bath and Body Works. Then we divvied up lipgloss. And then we waited for the kids' bus to drop them off.

Bucket had, for some reason, eaten school lunch.
She HAD a sack lunch with her ... but ... well, School Lunch was chocolate milk and hamburgers and vegetables. So there was a DISCUSSION about REMEMBERING. (She also had this same discussion with her teacher, too. *rolls eyes*)
And we went to Salem to Motherhood Maternity, where I got three pairs of pants. And we got the kids Gardening gloves (just in time for the service project this weekend!) at The Elephant's Trunk.
Then we STARTED to head home (thanks to Google Navigation) ... and had to stop at McDonald's so Bruise could go to the bathroom and pouty Bucket (because she didn't get a TOY or something THIS shopping trip) got fries. Bruise and I got yogurt parfaits. Mom got a drink (which Bucket got to choose ... because she was THIRSTY. Crazy child. But she was in better [NOT POUTY] spirits then).

And we got home, relaxed and ordered pizza. Which was for dinner and the kids' lunch today. (Their request.) And, after Michael got home (late ... EQ duties. It's good that he can serve), we ate dinner and got the kids to bed after they took a bath.
Mom was impressed that I'm able to read tongue-twistery tales (I was reading one of the Rootabaga Stories). I was especially pleased, since it was one that I'm not that familiar with. ^_^ *preens*

Then we folded laundry while watching Eerie, Indiana. It's been so long since I watched that show. Good times. (Even though, later, while waiting for Bri, I kept falling asleep. I was tired after driving in Salem.)

Bri did come over and got hugs from Mom, Michael, and me (the kids were asleep in bed) and some snuggles with Freyja-cat ... and we got to chat. ... Then we all needed to get to our respective beds. We were all feeling that it'd been a long day. ^_^

And that brings us to today ...
I got up, packed the kids' lunches, did Bucket's hair, and headed out to my dentist appointment (Mom took the kids to the bus and got them on there safe and sound. And fed them breakfast).

I had five small cavities and one large cavity filled. I told my dentist and his assistants, "Let's just get it all done and over with. I promise I'll be a good patient."
I keep my word. The two swabs of numbing stuff (that tastes like menthol cherry ... and then like skunk spray and cherry) along with two shots of Novacaine ... 80 minutes later, I was walking out of there ... feeling like 1/4 of my lips belonged to Angelina Jolie. And I had my five fillings.

The only thing we didn't do is a rebuiling and a crown, since my insurance doesn't cover that.
Or TMJ. So I'll be getting myself a night guard from the store and trying that. Better $20 than $400 ... or over a thousand, if I went the oral surgery route. Since it'd ALL be out of pocket. *sigh*

And I scurried home, hugged my momma before she left, and checked facebook and chatted with Bri online.
Then I ate pizza, once my mouth wasn't numb anymore ... and got the kids off the bus.

And ... I had Bruise read to me. It's wonderful when he realizes that he DOES know how to sound-out and READ words. He's getting so much better. That's a good thing.

Well ... either I do or DON'T have rehearsal tonight. This is a little confusing ... Ugh.
Bri and I are trying to get answers. So I'm closing up.

Picture day tomorrow, btw. Wish me luck in giving my daughter a CUTE hairdo.

Well ....

Remember how I mentioned SOBBING through the last bit of Annie?

Then Michael and I watched last week's episode of Glee last night (since the season finale is tonight ... then SYTYCD is on THURSDAY!!!!) ...

I was a hot mess. (Not too surprising with an episode titled "Funeral," you know.)

Then I shared a couple articles with Michael:

How Slavery Really Ended in America (via New York Times)
(About Major General Benjamin Franklin Butler, Fort Monroe, "contrabands," and the Emancipation Proclamation. ... It's six pages long. And TOTALLY WORTH IT.)

Shocking Photo Created a Hero, But Not to His Family (via CNN)
(About James Zwerg, Freedom Riders, Civil Rights ... this is the one that gets me bawling.)

As wonderful as out nation can be ... we have some horrible things that happen.
At the same time, as horrible as things are ... there are some AMAZING people who do AMAZING things.
I don't have words to encompass how awed I am by Zwerg's humility ... or how heart-wrenching it is to read about the guilt he carried around for decades. Poor man. Poor, wonderful man.

I need to step it up.
Seriously.

Crazy Dream Chronicles - Blood and Kisses

NO, IT'S NOT TWILIGHT.
Or even anything Charlene Harris.
Stop interrupting, okay??? :P

So, here's (what I recall of) my dream from last night:

I was an actress in some action show for TV. Kinda like Xena or something.
And I looked a lot more like Felicia Day than myself. Like, I was thin and my hair was red and it was longer ...

BUT somehow, practicing something in my dressing room, I totally sliced my shoulder, right by my bra strap. And it was deep. And it was bleeding. A LOT. (Like the one time, irl, where I got a scar helping a friend move. It was a cut and, since I was wearing a black shirt, I didn't realize it was bleeding. Or even anything more than a scratch. At least, not until I ran over to my apartment and started taking care of it. Oy.)
(But this was WAY bigger and deeper than that. Like, I really needed stitches.)

SO, there I was cut and bleeding. And I didn't want to bother anyone. And I think that my make-up artist was somewhere else. So ... I went over to the next dressing room/trailer/whatever (my dream wasn't very specific), where the male co-star was.
And I knew that, in this dream, I wasn't married. But I might have been dating someone. And my co-star? I tried to avoid him. Since he came off as a bit smarmy or something. But he bothered me.
Still, I needed help. Since I couldn't even put a band-aid on my cut by myself. And it was bleeding and I needed to get it to stop. And we were going to be shooting. And I felt dumb enough anyways.

He lets me into his dressing room. I take off my shirt and you can see that my top (underneath. So, yes, I still dream that I wear garments. No wonder I avoid the smarmy guys. Because what if they want to do more than talk??!?!?) is covered with the blood seeping from that cut. I move my top and bra strap a little and he's very gallant and helps get me taken care of. (I know that more than a band-aid was involved. But I don't know. I'm an Ed major, not a doctor, okay???)

And there's this change in the atmosphere, y'know? I excuse myself back to my dressing room to get changed and cleaned up. Since, y'know, we have to film some more scenes in a bit. And I'm okay enough that I don't have to tell anyone else how I apparently attempted to fillet myself as I practiced some stunt in my room earlier.

Then we're on the set, ready to shoot some scene.
And it's a scene where we kiss.
So we do. ... And it's really nice. Like, getting lost in the moment, coming back to reality all dazed and eyes unfocused ... that type of nice.
As in, the director is clearing his throat when we didn't stop when he said "cut" ... especially as how, up until then, I had put as much distance as possible between my co-star and myself. Which kinda annoyed the director.

And, as my head slowly stops spinning and we pull away from each other, I can only think ... well, "wow" ... and that I need to break up with my boyfriend.
And wonder how much of the dizziness is caused by the kiss ... and how much is caused by blood loss.

.... And, um ... did I mention that Mr. Used-To-Be-Smarmy ... um ... hee hee ... was Nathan Fillion.

At least my dreamself has good taste. He's reportedly just as charming off camera as on.
Be still, my little fangirl heart.

So ... there you go. Another unsolicited look into the deepest recesses of my psyche.

Strangely enough, this is one of my few celebrity crushes who isn't married. Weird.

But, yeah. Acting, blood, macking on Fillion ... what a strange dream.
I was a little annoyed that Freya kept waking me up. ... And then the kids got up. So I don't recall all the details. Oh well.

Good thing that Michael's not the jealous type. And, as I told him, "In my dream, I wasn't married. So it wasn't cheating!!!" And he just gave me that look. ... You know, the look I get a lot. From lots of people. The one where they smile and roll their eyes and shake their heads. The look that says, "You are crazy. Nobody really is going to judge you. Good thing you're so adorably adamant. Silly Llanna ..."

Because Michael believe that the vast majority of the time?
Dreams are just dreams. They don't mean anything. So don't fret about them.
Sometimes, yes, a dream is more than just a dream ... but usually?
Don't worry about it.

I'm glad he feels that way ... since, wow, my dreams are wack.
Not wiggety-wack. Just the regular kind.

Somewhat productive ...

I'm almost caught up on laundry (just not the folding-or-putting-away-parts).

I had Michael take back the DVDs to the library on his way to his meeting last night.
I had dinner made for him and the kiddos.
Bri and I snacked on GF kettle/carmel corn while we watched Easy A.
(Pop corn in a pot on the stove with some vegetable/canola oil. Stir in brown sugar. Add some salt. YUM!)

And we also spent time watching funny things on YouTube. And talking about P90X, since she's going to buy it.
(Hey, I'm not quite ready for that YET. Once I stop breathing like a whale as I do WiiFit exercises, I'll think about it. And I need to be able to do push-ups. Because there's NO FLIPPIN' WAY I can do pull-ups yet. I know my limitations. And I'm no help to my family if I'm in traction.)

And we went through my iTunes library. And it was a fun visit. I don't hang with my girls a lot anymore. But I'm glad that Bri's and my schedules worked out so well. And that Michael is fine being the testosterone wheel after he gets home from EQ meetings. ^_^ (Thanks, love! I appreciate you!!)

I've gotten caught up on dishes. I have part of a load to do in the dishwasher. But everything else is clean! YAY!

And, oh, but I NEED to get the kiddos dressed for the day.
AND to go through their drawers and get THOSE organized.
I do not know how to describe the expression on my face as I consider this ... but it's not a happy face.
It's more of a gritted-teeth, rolled eyes, looking askance type of face.

Because, I'll admit it.
When I do it ... the kids, Michael, and EVERYONE ELSE who MIGHT be in the house needs to stay outta mah way. Because I need quiet and NO INTERFERENCE.
It's that OCD tendency ... I want these drawers organized. And if ANYONE gets in my way, no matter HOW much I love them ... well, it's not pretty.
I kinda wish that I could totally rearrange their room, somehow ... probably involving a TARDIS, so that there's enough room to have almost all their clothes on hangers that they can reach (to get their clothes AND to put them away). And anything that can't be hung up could go in shallow bins. Like their socks and underoos. Or they could each have one drawer for each type of clothes: shirts, pants, pajamas, summer things ... that sort of thing. Then they could put their clothes away in some type of organization.
INSTEAD OF JUST SHOVING A PILE INTO THEIR DRAWERS AND THEN WHINING TO ME THAT THEY CAN'T FIND THEIR UNDERWEAR!!!!!!


Not that THAT ever would have happened. NooooooooOOOOOooooooooooo. *shifty eyes*

/rant.

Last night, after I put the kids to bed, Bruise REALLY WANTED to snuggle with someone. It wasn't going to be me [or Bri, either] (because Easy A? NOT appropriate for my babies. Just saying). Couldn't be Michael, since he was at his meeting. And Bucket didn't want to. "Because then I'll be up ALL NIGHT!" was her reasoning. Heh.

So I told him that I loved him. And that, if they both went to sleep RIGHT NOW, I'd make them waffles in the morning. (Not a bribe. They had to EARN this.)

I made waffles. Because I honor my promises to the kiddos.

I also have showered and gotten dressed. I am debating on putting on much makeup today.
Because, really? My skin's looking pretty good. No new zits. And the one that WAS lurking? Decided to die down.
(WHAT?? No, really! I was amazed, too!)
I still have some red spots from ones that are healing ... and my eyes look tired. And I wouldn't say no to some mascara. But, really? I don't look too shabby at all.

Which, considering the fact that I JUST had angry bees in my head? I can't believe that I feel so charitable towards my appearance.
I mean, really, as I was about to get in the shower yesterday, I took a look at myself and was all, "You know, for what all I've put my body through ... I don't look bad at all."

(And then the little voice inside my head was all, "*triple-take* Whaaaa? ... Oh, yeah. Not bad at all. I mean, there could be improvement. But, you're right.")

Truly? I'm a little freaked out. But Michael should be happy.
And I hope it lasts. Because maybe it'll be easier to be motivated to work out and eat smaller portions and healthier foods if it's not accompanied by a huge serving of self-loathing and guilt.

Still, I'll totally admit that I'm so glad to see in video clips and in movies that even skinny girls have upper arms that are a little flabby. It makes me accept myself a little more.
And, really? I totally respect that Kate Winslet is against being photoshopped. And that she speaks out when magazines do it to her.

I haven't seen all of "Killing Us Softly," a documentary about how advertising uses and affects women.

But what I've seen ... I agree with. And it's not the first place that I've heard and read about it.

So, now I find myself reading and watching advertisements much more critically. If I don't see ANY pores on a model's nose or cheeks? I find myself being a LOT more skeptical of claims.
Because, really, being ham-handed with an airbrush or Photoshop? Not proving product claims to me. Unless, of course, this company is going to send someone to photoshop ME in real life. (Didn't think so.)

At the same time, though, I have to remember that making women feel bad about themselves, their skin, their features, their weight ... this is how a lot of these companies sell products.
If I ever went into advertising, I hope that I'd be good enough to create ad campaigns that would make people feel good for using the products. And not fill them with self-loathing.
This is why I do like a lot of the Dove advertisements.
And, for the most part, Garnier does focus on the positive. Or on product claims/science.

But, honestly? I'd LOVE to see advertisements and fashion week filled with a huge proprtion of average people. The ones who aren't size 0-4. The ones that aren't completely toned or slim-hipped.
I'd love to see how these designers can make people like ME look.

It's easy to make a model look like ... well, a model.
I would LOVE to see these designers step up to the challenge.

Like I've mentioned, Betsey Johnson did this with her Pink Tag line at Fashion Week this year.
She had friends and employees model the pieces.

Aren't these girls darling?

Now I know that I would look good in this outfit!
If it were on a size 0 girl, I wouldn't even look twice!

Yes! A pregnant woman!
And she looks wonderful!

Is it just me, or does her face look kinda like Reese Witherspoon?
If I ever wore strapless dresses, I'd consider this one.

I like that you don't HAVE to have washboard abs to show some midriff.
And they look like they're having FUN in these clothes.

This gal is ADORABLE.
And I really hate rompers. ... But those boots? ... SO tempting. ^_^

Now, don't they look nice??

There is still the problem that Johnson's clothes aren't made over a size 12.
Still, as the article over at About.com says, there were some stylists in the audience who appeared to be trying to not show their abject horror at these regular-Janes working it on the catwalk.
Why the shock? These are all beautiful ladies! And, really, it's a much more honest look at the type of people that will be wearing designer clothes. We're not all slim and tall.

I'm average height. AND I'm not slim. I'm obese. ... And even when I WAS at the healthy BMI, my boobs made it hard to find things that fit well. As much as I love the LOOK of a button-up shirt, I had to face that if I wanted one, either it'd fit my waist OR the girls. NOT BOTH.

And then, after I gained weight, I just learned to hate shopping for clothes.

(Shopping for shoes? Make-up? Accessories? Those are all FINE. They don't fill me with (1)self-loathing, (2)depression, or (3) MURDEROUS RAGE that designers seem to think there is only ONE AND TRUE body type ... therefore I am a complete freak of nature and should just wrap myself up in sheets, since CLOTHES obviously aren't made to fit mutants like me. And then I should probably hide under a rock and scare children with my hideous size 16 self, with my ample chest and zaftig, hourglass figure.

Yes, there's a reason I don't like shopping for clothes. And it's not JUST because I'm cheap. (Though, that IS a factor. ... Really, a shirt and skirt can run around $40. FOR ONE OUTFIT!!! ... With $40, I could get a basket full of make-up or cheap DVDs. I could buy BOOKS!! LIKE, FIVE OR EIGHT BOOKS! OR more, if I'm at a used book store, even.)

And, with my size, it's difficult to get stuff that fits at resale places. Unless I want to solely dress in baggy things that don't look good anyways.

Yes, I'm picky. I'm vain enough that I WANT to look good, to show off my figure to its best advantage.
And, really? A muu'muu isn't going to do that. (I'm not knocking muu'muu dresses. They have their time and place. And, really, my hair isn't right for them most times. I need big hair to go with a big dress. Or else I look like a little head stuck on a huge dress. Yes, I have issues.)

Still, until I manage to get myself back to a healthier weight, hating my body/myself isn't doing anyone any good. I've had YEARS of experience ... and it's not had any good results.

So, I'm going to DEAL with the fact that my body is NOT that of a model's. And that, even so, I have every right to be pretty, to look good, to like how I look in clothes and out. That my face and my hair don't HAVE to be my best features. That I am deserving of clothes that make me look and feel good.

Sorry, Michael ... I think that I need to buy another Sunday skirt or two. Until I fit into the new black one I bought last year. I can wait for a while, though. But the desire is there.

30 Day Challenge - Day 7

 A picture of someone/something that has had the biggest impact on you

My wonderful Mom

My patient husband

The munchkin brigade. Prior to Day One, they've had quite an influence.

Look! I've gone above and beyond! They asked for ONE picture!
Here are three!!

Now, these aren't the ONLY influences. I like to think that I've learned and grown a little through each person that I've been blessed (or otherwise) to meet.

Most people that know my mom and me tell us how similar we are. And it's true. I'm DEFINITELY her daughter. (Just like Bucket is DEFINITELY my daughter.) My mom is who primarily raised me since second grade (even though my folks didn't divorce until I was starting sixth grade. He was away taking independent living classes or working). My mom's the one behind my religious upbringing. And I'm grateful for that.

My mom's one of my best friends. She put up with my TRYING teenage years. She's awesome. (And, yet, she never believes it!)

Michael's a huge influence. He's truly the perfect mate for me. He puts up with all the bad parts ... and acts like it's not that big of a deal. And he loves me in spite of myself. He keeps me calm and grounded. He reassures me. He's my rock. And I'm very, very grateful to be sealed to him for eternity. Anything else would suck in comparison.

The kiddos, my Bruise and Bucket. Ever since we were aware of them (May 23, 2005 ... and that's just when we thought there was ONE. We didn't know for nearly a month that there were TWO.), they've been a big influence. From a few days after we learned that we were going to be parents, and we're talking to my uterus as we sat in the car at Baja Fresh ... to even now (as we're all hacking and under the weather). 

I used to be so absolutely SCARED of being a mom. I, who can barely keep a HOUSEPLANT alive ... how could I be responsible for another person?!?
And, then, to learn that I would be having two babies at once?
Frankly, it was rather terrifying.

I actually was a little sad when they were about to be born ... not because I didn't want to meet them. I DID ... but because once they were born, not only did I lose my free time for a long while, BUT (more importantly) because after they were born, I'd no longer know EXACTLY where they were, HOW they where ... I wouldn't know FOR SURE that they'd eaten well, that they were just warm enough, that they could feel how much I love them by their very environment. And that worried me.

I'm not the most patient or most selfless person. I'm not the best mom ever. But, every day, they're teaching me more and more. 

Other influences (in no particular order. And do not feel left out if I don't mention you by name. Like I said, I try to grow from my interactions with, like, EVERYONE):

• Jesus Christ - (like, duh, right?) Like the Primary song says, "I'm trying to be like Jesus." And it's true. He's the example that I am trying to follow. (Notice that I don't say how successful I am. :P)
• My family - all of it -- I think of Mom C whenever I fold towels (thanks!!). I find myself thinking of grandparents and siblings-in-law as I do various activities. Or when I try something new. Or when I read or hear a joke. My family is awesome. Inside jokes and love ... that's where it's at.
• My friends ... who, to me, are just extended family. You guys are awesome. 
• People I've met through working.
• People at church ... Seriously, today TWO of my friends from church brought us dinner. Because I'm sick. And they love me. I am completely undeserving. And I KNOW that I'm completely spoiled.
• Some celebrities influence me. Without the Brothers Green, I wouldn't have learned about Kiva loans (well, not as soon as I became aware of them). Without a lot of celebrities, I would be a less funny, more boring shadow of myself. And this includes artists, writers, scientists ... the whole gamut of famousness-essence.

I really am like a sponge. I tend to soak up personality traits and idiosyncrasies of those around me.
I think this is why I was counseled to surround myself with friends who will uplift me.
And, so, if I seek you out, KNOW that I think highly of you.

My friends and family are awesome. And I know that I can never say it enough. But you are.

In which I wish I could do more ...

I mean, really ... I'll admit that I'm a lazy person.
(Seriously, my house is NEVER spic and span. My desk is CONSTANTLY in a state of disorder. I procrastinate. I have wonderful intentions that I don't get around to ... like the Christmas cookies that I keep MEANING to make.... *sigh*)

And this might help explain why I'm always so amazed by the wonderful things out there to help people:

• Kiva loans - kiva.org 
• Heifer International
• World Vision - Both of these places allow people to donate funds to purchase livestock to help others in need to be self-sufficient (and, in turn, to pass along some of their new livestock's offspring to others).
• FreeRice.com - Answer trivia (Vocabulary, foreign language, grammar, science, math, geography, etc) and, for each correct answer, you're awarded a donation of 10 grains of rice to countries in need.
• HungerSite.com - click for a donation of food to be made. (There're also other sites linked. The Breast Cancer site donates money toward mammograms to women who wouldn't be able to afford them otherwise. Children's Health helps get immunizations and medicine to children. Another helps buy books for children. One helps buy rainforest land so it will be protected. And one helps pay for food for animals in shelters.)
• Letssaythanks.com - You can send a free postcard to servicemen/women for free via Xerox. You choose the design and a message. You only give them your name and hometown.

And, yes, those are kinda small things ... but they serve some (NEEDED) good.
(I'm not going to lie, I tear up something fierce when reading the World Vision catalog. For many people out there, these animals (and the work, wool/fur, eggs, milk, manure, etc) are a ticket to being able to thrive, to be self-sufficient; to be able to afford a home, clothes, food, and schooling. ... This astounds me. I'm so incredibly spoiled. And, really, would it kill me to donate, what, $50 to help another family to get out of poverty?)

And then ... well. There are the people out there that make a huge difference.

• Bill and Melinda Gates' foundation helps millions of people. (Say what you will about Mr. Gates' business dealings ... still, there's good things being done with some of that money. Which makes me feel better.)
• Mother Theresa ... need I say more? She was an amazing powerhouse of a woman.
  She embodied selfless service.
• Dr. Hawa Abdi - She's a Somalian doctor who's stood up against the militants who tried to run her out of her own clinic (for being a woman). She is raising money to restore her clinic back to running condition to take care of the thousands of refugees who have flocked to her clinic for protection.
  When her life was threatened, she didn't care. She's hardcore. And I'm in awe of her courage and strength.
• And this amazing, amazing man: Mr. Narayanan Krishnan
  
  (Thanks to my friend, Dianne, for originally sharing this on facebook.)
  

But, yes ... I think, especially at this season, it's always a VERY GOOD THING to be reminded of the reason for this holiday. We were given the most wonderful, most needed, most ... BESTEST gift ever.

There's no possible way for us to ever give anything of the same value in return. 

But couldn't we make more of an effort (myself included!) to show our appreciation and gratitude in our daily lives by serving those around us?

This year, I find myself listening, over and over, to a certain song ...

There's magic in the air this evening
Magic in the air
The world is at her best, you know
When people love and care
The promise of excitement
Is one the night will keep
After all, there's only one more sleep 'til Christmas

The world has got a smile today
The world has got a glow
There's no such thing as strangers when
A stranger says hello
And everyone is family
We're having so much fun
After all, there's only one more sleep 'til Christmas

'Tis the season to be jolly and joyous
With a burst of pleasure, we feel it arrive
It's the season when the saints can employ us
To spread the news about peace and to keep love alive

(spoken):

Merry Christmas! So long!

There's something in the wind today
That's good for everyone
Yes, faith is in our hearts today
We're shining like the sun
And everyone can feel it
The feeling's running deep
After all, there's only one more sleep 'til Christmas
After all, there's only one more sleep 'til Christmas day 

(Copyright isn't mine. It belongs to The Jim Henson Company and Disney.)
(I hope they don't mind my quoting it. Because these lyrics are wonderful and they make me very, very happy. Paul Williams [who wrote the song]  ... I have no words. You're just too cool.)

But ... yeah ... if anything will motivate me, it should definitely be these great examples. ^_^

Come, Listen to a Prophet's Voice - Wrap Up

 So, yes ... as you can tell, I did enjoy General Conference.
Being able to HEAR it really helped.

And following the #twitterstake was great, too. It made me glad, very glad to have such technology available.

Things that I took away from the meeting:

• We are loved.
• The Atonement was given to us because we will make mistakes.
• Regardless of what the world thinks or says, we need to do what is right.
• Listen to the prophet and our leaders. They are called of God. They are inspired to lead us.
• We are blessed to be able to receive individual revelation. We are not restricted to ONLY following our leaders blindly. The only mediator between Heavenly Father and ourselves is the Savior.
• We need to develop our own strong testimonies.
• We need to be examples to our children.
• This is a good time to be alive. Things aren't as dire as they might seem. There is still lots of good in the world.
• Members of other faiths are doing a wonderful job of living lives of testimony and service
  (I LOVED hearing this, since I have many friends who are not Latter-Day Saints. And I think it'd be wonderful for them to know that they are being thanked, publicly, by our leaders).

And, YES, I did print myself off a copy of Ezra Taft Benson's talk about the 14 Fundamentals in Following the Prophet.
I did order myself a copy of "God Loveth His Children" about the church's official stance on same-sex attraction and homosexuality. I need to be well-versed when people accuse me, personally, of hating those who are not heterosexual. I need to be able to defend my church when people not of my faith try to tell me what my church teaches.

----------------------------

(Not to be totally catty ... but I know that it could sound that way ... Who do you think really understands a religion? A person who has been a member for most of his/her life? Or someone who is not? ... I've been to a Catholic Mass and a funeral by a Catholic priest. That doesn't make me an expert. I've read a book by a woman who became a nun ... and has since left that calling. I'm still not an expert. ... Why should I believe someone who's trying to tell me that I'm wrong, that I [and the church] are homophobic bigots out to destroy democracy ... especially when he or she is trying to TELL me what I believe? ... I really just have never understood that.)

(Now, if they wanted to give me a standardized test about my knowledge of religious history ... that'd be one thing. But you really can only tell someone what you believe. Just sayin'.)

-----------------------

So, yes, I'm left with the impression that I need to READ MY SCRIPTURES.
I need to FOLLOW THE PROPHET.

I need to TEACH MY CHILDREN and help them to recognize the Spirit's influence to they can gain a TESTIMONY for themselves.

I need to work on being better about eating dinner together as a family, at having family home evening.

I need to cultivate an attitude of gratitude. (Time for another bout of the Gratitude Challenge?) And I need to be sure to express my gratitude to others.

I need to really, really develop a habit of daily scripture study.
(I've gotten better about getting out and exercising more ... here's my next step!)

I need to be more involved politically. I need to read the voters' pamphlet more. I need to make myself aware of the candidates and their stances. I need to pray for guidance in voting for who would best affect and lead our town, county, state and nation.

I need to stay optimistic and not to get bogged down by all the evil that is in the world. The world is still full of  wonderful people doing wonderful things. 

I need to repent more often and be more humble and teachable.

I need to work to create a haven of our home. I want it to be a place where our family and friends have refuge from all the influences of what is not desirable for us.

These are good goals. Now I just need to put them into practice. ^_^

That's what's going to take the effort. Wish me luck!!

Perfection ...

There are times when I read something and I just sit and think to myself, "GOSH. How powerful. How eloquent. ... I wish that I'd written that."

Here's a link to one of those articles:

And ... I really do agree with that.

I am NOT perfect.

• I yell at my kids when I get frustrated.
• I get snippity with my husband.
• I don't read my scriptures everyday ... let alone STUDY them.
• Sometimes, I forget to pray by myself.
• I'm not in the habit of praying over meals all the time.
• My house is NEVER going to be featured in Better Homes and Gardens or any of those magazines featuring BEAUTIFUL, CLEAN houses.
• I can be very sarcastic.
• I can be over-sensitive ... and then I overanalyze other's remarks.
• I worry. Far. Too. Much.
• I use curse words.
• I'm materialistic and shallow and vain.
• I can be manipulative.
• I'm lazy.
• I'm never going to be supermodel slim.
• Some people think that because I'm LDS that I'm automatically a self-righteous, homophobic polygamist and an affront to God. Or that I'm narrow-minded and ill-educated. Or that I'm just brainwashed and treated as a second-class citizen in my own home and church. ... These are not true. But some people are CONVINCED that this is how it is. And there's no way to convince them that anything else could be the truth.

I have many more imperfections, don't worry. I'm completely aware that I am flawed.

And still, with all those things ... I'm still able to be happy.
Maybe because I'm honest about my imperfections.

Maybe because I KNOW that I am a daughter of Heavenly Father, that He loves me -- even when I'm not perfect, that my nature is divine and that I am of individual worth. And that NOTHING that anybody ever says or does will change that.

So what if I'm .... more cuddly than svelte? Who really cares?
I have opportunities everyday to improve upon my habits (or habits-to-be) of scripture study and prayer, to develop patience with others and myself, to love others with more charity.

I have unlimited potential ... if I allow myself to realize it. Yes, I will not be THE. BEST. EVER. at everything ... Heck, I may not ever be the BEST. EVER. at ANYTHING ... but I can try. 

Because any effort is a GOOD effort.

One thing that I do seem to be good at is loving people ... I'm not ALWAYS great at it ... but I usually can appreciate others.

One thing that touched me recently was that, out of the blue, one of the girls I was friends with in high school wrote me a message on Facebook. About how she really appreciated that I never judged her. That my mom and I were such good Christian folk that it gave her faith in Christ (since there had been others who had told her off for her behavior as part of their "Christian duty"). She wanted me to know that she was turning her life around ... and that she was a much happier person. And she wanted to thank me.

I mean, really, just THINKING about this gets me all teary-eyed. I don't really take any credit as doing anything out of the ordinary. This girl is my friend. I genuinely liked (and still do, of course, like) her. I love her sense of humor and her candid nature. Being around her made me happy. 

I really can't imagine who would have reprimanded her for her behavior. Yes, she and I had different lifestyles, I suppose. We didn't spend much time outside of school together. But I was always thrilled to be able to talk and joke with her at school. (In fact, to be completely honest, I always felt SO. FLATTERED. that she'd allow me to be part of her circle while we were in classes. She was more popular than I was. And I was touched by her kindness in allowing awkward, dorky ME to hang around.)

True, there are times that I've been MUCH. LESS. KIND than what I should have been. I became the ONE. FRIEND. of a girl at school. And I needed space. I wrote her a note saying that I felt stifled. And I shared it with my friends ... mostly to check and see if I was being too harsh. And they all signed it. ... And I gave it to her anyways.
One girl at school (who wasn't very friendly to the one girl) called me out as a b**** over that.
No, I wasn't proud.
In fact, I really wish that I had a do-over on that one.

And, truly, I consider it a HUGE kindness on the one girl's part that she has allowed me to be her friend on Facebook. 

Life is a growing experience. And to demand perfection of anyone who's just learning something is not reasonable. ... When you're learning to play piano, your teacher doesn't sit you down and demand that you play sonatas flawlessly from memory on the first day. When you're learning a sport, they teach you the fundamentals before expecting Olympian-level performance.

I strongly believe that life is the same way.

We all are going to make mistakes. It's a learning experience.
Our duty is to LEARN from our mistakes and the experiences of others. To learn to make better choices and to deal with the consequences ... especially of choices that we shouldn't have made (or other's choices that were forced upon us).


We are free to choose our responses to the situations with which we are faced. 

We are free to choose if we will respond with love and joy and a willingness to learn and grow ... or with hate, despair, and irresponsibility.

I do worry about the choices that my children will have to make as they grow. And that's why it's my job, as their mother, to help them learn how to choose wisely for themselves. And to know that they are loved, regardless of what happens ... that Michael and I will love them and do our best to help them (or to find someone who can) solve their problems. And to rely on their Heavenly Father's love and guidance to help them through this learning experience.

Let's be kinder to each other. And to ourselves.
Perfection can be exhausting.

Back in the Saddle ... not a literal saddle though. It'd be cool ... but it's not true.

We made it to storytime. I didn't even try to take a shower. I just reapplied deodorant and made sure I didn't stink. The kiddos stayed up near the front, listening to stories and songs (sometimes participating) and watching the puppet show. Bruise was THRILLED to sit with B and L, a couple of his friends from his class at church. It was cute, watching Bruise and Bucket, clutching Stripers and Black Misty-Cat (a toy tiger and a toy black panther, respectively), sitting with their pals.

Then I took them to McDonald's. It wasn't raining, so I figured they could play ... except that the outside walls in the play place enclosure were being painted. Oh well. We still had fun.

We got home and watched Fairie Tale Theater's version of Little Red Riding Hood. And I got a voicemail from Michael asking if we had any hot water yet. ... since his shower was cold that morning. What?
I checked. ... Nope. No hot water.

He did come home about an hour early to work on the water heater. We had to replace it. It's all done, since he's a total rock star.
I was totally virtuous by heating up water on the stove so I could wash the last of the dishes ... Yes, Virginia, there IS a time that I'm caught up with the dishes! Woooo!!!!

Bruise had a meltdown (mostly due to the fact that he was cranky from NOT taking a nap) because Daddy couldn't watch the Lego movie that we checked out from the library with them. RIGHT NOW. Poor guy.

Michael went and bought a water heater, took the old one out, and (with my help) got the new one situated ... when it was time to leave for his meeting. I had him eat first (Yes, I even made dinner. Go me! And this was without running water! And I cleaned the dinner dishes and got the dishwasher loaded, too! I KNOW! Crazy, huh??).

He did have me measure a pipe's diameter. He needed to buy some parts at Home Depot on his way home. I got it right. He got pipes put together and glued (since these are PVC pipes, not the huge and expensive metal ones). Then we waited and were able to turn the water back on. And waited for hot water ... which got fixed this morning. One of the wires had broken. But Michael fixed THAT ... and we got to have WARM SHOWERS today. And he came with us to storytime, which was fun.

Also, last night, when we first turned the water on, the kitchen sink's faucet was being all weird. We had fine water pressure from all the other faucets in the house ... Turns out that a bit of glue from the pipe that Michael put together got stuck in the aerator on the faucet. That was another quick fix.

I did manage to get together with my Jenny to go walking/jogging today. Her middle child and my munchkins played at a park while we did laps (GREAT DESIGN FOR A PARK, by the way. Totally awesome). She and I are both sporting blisters. She has two. I have one ... and some tenderness on the ball of one foot. It was great getting together with her. We got to visit AND work out. Go us!! Now we have to plan which 5Ks we want to do. We joked that we're only going to do ones with the best shirts. Ha ha ha. (At this point, I think doing ANY will be a good thing.) We did walk over 5K today. And it took us almost an hour. Then we let the kids play some more, she fed her youngest (who had peacefully napped in his stroller the whole time), and we walked back.

And, on the way home, I had a drink of water from my pink 1L bottle ... and the kids BEGGED for a drink, because they were SO THIRSTY. And then spilled 1L (minus an ounce or so) on the floor of my van. *sigh*
So I told them to stop talking. And next time, when I ASK them to wait until we get home, to ACTUALLY stop whining and wait. It's not like we were all that far from home! *sigh*

Jenny and I did plan that, when it IS raining, we'll have a back-up plan of doing laps around the mall. It'll be dry and we can use our smaller strollers. She will use her odometer on her iPhone (seriously, what apps DON'T they have?) and all will be well. ^_^

In other (related news) my legs and feet are SORE. And I need a shower.
And I get a HOT shower. ^_^ Yay!

I think that's really all that I have to write ...

Well, that and I think it'd be fun to Disco dance. Like the routines on SYTYCD. But I'm not in shape for that yet. I need to build up my stamina and endurance. But it would be AWESOME.

Yes, I like Disco music. DON'T JUDGE ME!

In which I confess: Body Image

I am going to admit this now. I weigh over 200 pounds.

Okay, so it's like 205 ... but still ... I've never weighed this much ... except for when I was pregnant. And I managed to lose about 40 pounds healthily in the space of a week that way.

I don't have that option right now.

I would say that I don't know how I've let this happen. But I really can figure it out.

I don't exercise. I never have really found an exercise program that I can make a real habit of, let alone one that I love. (And, when I DO manage to get into an exercise habit, I somehow get sick ... including where I cough enough to leave myself lightheaded. Yeah, fun. And not conducive to an exercise regime.)

I also really enjoy food. I like flavors, I like texture ... I love sweet things ...

I'm still fitting into most of my regular clothes, so I somehow missed when I jumped from around 180 to that last twenty pounds. ... Unless I just have access to only faulty scales.

I could joke that, hey, at least the earth finds me wildly attractive ... but ... yeah. It's not the most helpful.

So ... Here's what I'm asking:
How do YOU get motivated to improve your lifestyle?


I know that I have to make changes. Diabetes runs in my family. EVERY SINGLE GRANDPARENT OF MINE (including most that have married in) HAS/HAD DIABETES.




At the same time, being down on myself about the fact that I'm never going to be a size zero isn't helpful to ANYONE.


I really don't want Bucket to grow up thinking that she is fat or whatever.  That's not the legacy that I want my daughter to get from me.


I'd much rather that she KNOW that she's a little bundle of amazing. She's a beautiful and clever miss with a sense of humor and oodles of flair.


.....


So, instead of longing for the body I had in high school (when I actually worked and had gym class and danced in theater class) and barely had time to eat, I NEED to come to grips that I am in this body.

The body I have is MINE. And it is worthwhile. 


So, yes, I am carrying around some extra insulation/padding. But, still, my body is a good body.


And here are some reasons why my body is good:

• I have nice skin. It's soft and it heals quickly when accidents happen.
• My bones are strong. I've only ever fractured one once. My bones are good. They support me.
• My muscles are strong. I often take people by surprise when I jump in to help lift and carry things. Part of my strength does come from the fact that I'm STUBBORN. I didn't have brothers, growing up, to help lil' ol' me ... so I just got used to doing it myself.
• I also am rather flexible. My joints are good. 
• I am overall a healthy person. I have a good immune system. I'm not sick often.
• I have a face that is unique and easily recognizable.
• I have a more-than-decent singing voice and a pleasant speaking voice. I can project when I speak to reach a large group of people.
• I can carry my children with ease. I can walk around without problems. I can scurry across the street. I am quick enough to kill flies. I am brave enough to kill spiders.
• I have hair that is still healthy after the abuse that I heap upon it (bleaching and dyeing, really).
• I have nicely-shaped hands and feet.
• I have lovely ankles that look especially nice in heels.

Really, when I think about it this way, my body is amazing. It's carried two healthy babies at the same time. It's nursed those babies into healthy children. It allows me to care for my home and family. It's danced for Veterans and has held crying friends. It's a body that loves and lives. It's a body that laughs often. It's a body that bends and lifts and squats.

It's a good body.

It really is.

No, it might not be absolutely perfect. It doesn't look like a supermodel's or even like most of the pictures in the magazines.

But it's a good body. It's a body that is rather healthy. It's a body that works and carries out many duties each day.

And I'm really lucky to have it.

---------------------

I was feeling down on myself earlier. Yes, Mother Nature is getting ready to deliver her lovely gift. *rolls eyes* And I was looking at myself and thinking about what a pink, puffy, BLOB I was ... and then I realized that THAT was the hormones talking. And I'm better than that.

My body is better than that. It deserves better.

And then I saw in the latest (September 2010) Glamour magazine an article about Operation Beautiful, which is an online movement to encourage people (especially women) to love themselves and their bodies, to rethink the definition of beauty, to "stop negative self-talk or 'fat-talk'."

Operation Beautiful began with Caitlin Boyle leaving encouraging notes in public restrooms for people to read. And she's invited anyone and everyone to join in (send a picture of the message you've left) or to share their experiences finding notes.

A few months ago, I was at the local Borders. And I had to ... go powder my nose. As I was in the stall, I noticed something written on the toilet paper holder. Just a scrawled "You are beautiful."

It made me smile. I hope that nobody ever repaints it. 

When I was living in the dorms at college, I often browsed in the college bookstore. There was a mirror that I SHOULD HAVE bought. It was a tiny little mirror in a BIG frame. And it was cute. The frame was red and black and had a couple little cartoony-stick-figure girls smiling along with, in big yellow letters, "HELLO GORGEOUS!" ... or was it "YOU LOOK MARVELOUS!"? Something like that. Completely adorable.

------------

My point today is this: I propose that we all try to be a little kinder, a little more compassionate, a little more accepting .... of ourselves and our bodies.

If we don't love ourselves and value ourselves, we can't really love and value others.

As Christ said, "Love thy neighbor as thyself." (Matthew 19:19)
We are commanded to love perfectly, as Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love us ... and that includes loving OURSELVES just as much as we work to love, value, and cherish our spiritual brothers and sisters.

For me, it often seems easier to accept others as they are than to deal with my insecurities and issues. I don't know why this is. But I have to also remember that not only is everyone around me (everyone who has lived and will live, too) is a precious son or daughter of God ... but that I. AM. TOO.

I am a Daughter of God. I am precious. Heavenly Father loves me just as much when I am 200 pounds as He does when I was 135. He loves me regardless of how well I fit into a size 7 (or a size 16 or any other number). He wants me to be happy. He wants me to feel loved and accepted ... by Him, by my friends and family, and also by myself.

Like Christina Aguilera says in her song, I AM beautiful, no matter what they (or I) say ... And I am going to work harder at not letting words (especially my own words) bring me down. Starting today.